Page 121 of Sweet Surrender

We’re at a table with all of his best friends and yet, he quietly lets me know my place, that I belong.

“Hi.” I slide my hands over his and squeeze like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“You sure you don’t want to play with us?” Rocket asks.

“Nope. I’m good,” I say, shifting so my back presses into Jase’s chest.

“Why not?”

“For starters, I’d take you all to the cleaners. And then there’s the fact that I’ve been warned about each of you.”

Jase puts a hand over my mouth and plays along with my lie. “Shh. Those secrets were supposed to be between us.”

Everyone laughs.

Vince, who’s already halfway through his beer, snorts. “I, for one, am glad you’re not playing. I have a feeling you’re right. You’d be handing our asses to us in minutes.”

Rocket grins, tossing a chip into the center of the table. “You think?”

“I know,” Jase whispers into my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

I ignore the three smirks directed at me. They’re still getting a kick out of the whole fake marriage thing, like it’s their personal inside joke that I somehow got roped into. And honestly? It is kind of a joke—until Jase does stuff like this.

Stuff like holding me too easily. Touching me too casually. Acting like I belong in his space.

I clear my throat, pushing that thought far, far away. I turn my attention to Vince and Hawkin as Rocket deals the cards. “I liked meeting your wives at the gala.”

Hawkin nods, glancing at what he was dealt and folding on the spot. He tosses them back onto the table. “Quinlan said you were welcomed into the BENT Bitches with open arms.”

“I was flattered to become an honorary member.”

“Ooh, can I watch your club meetings? I bet those are sexy as fuck—” Rocket says, dodging the poker chip Vince flicks at his head.

“You ain’t watching shit,” Hawkin says.

I tilt my head. “Is this how it is all the time with you four?”

“Yes.” Rocket’s grin is mischievous.

“And yet you still have wives?” I tease.

Vince lets out a dramatic sigh. “It’s the charm. It’s a long, drawn-out process, but we wear them down until they have no choice but to love us.”

“More like they exhaust them until they just accept their fate,” Rocket adds. “That is why I am still single.”

There’s more razzing over the comment, but I’m too distracted by the way Jase squeezes my hip and how his lips brush my ear when he says, “Guess that means I still have time to wear you down, huh, Cookie?”

I stiffen, refusing to let the warmth in his voice get to me. “You’re not even in the running, drummer boy.”

“Ouch.” Jase presses a hand to his heart, his laughter ringing out as he looks to the guys for sympathy.

None is given.

“I mean, she’s not wrong,” Hawkin says, hiding his grin behind his beer.

“Definitely not,” Rocket agrees.

Vince just shakes his head. “Poor guy never stood a chance.”