Page 20 of Colton’s Mate

Callie giggled. “So true. I need the pockets in it to stash my millions and billions in tips, though.”

Kitty turned to Brandon, who was glowering at the guy on the closest barstool, arms folded, looking dangerous. The guy squirmed uncomfortably, and finally picked up his beer and left. His shoulders were hunched as if he was afraid of getting a knife in the back.

Brandon helped Kitty onto the empty stool and kissed the top of her head.

“Making empty bar stools appear: best superpower ever,” Kitty said to him. “You’re my hero. And also, Callie’s working here. How did I not know this?”

Brandon reached over and gave Callie a quick one-armed hug, then said to Kitty, “Because A) you don’t listen when Colt and Remy talk—”

“Oh my god, who does?”

“—and B), Callie doesn’t have to report everything she does to you.”

Kitty gave him a ‘shocked and dismayed’ look. “Of course she does. What are friends for, if not to be all up in each other’s business?”

Brandon shook his head and spoke to Callie. “Ignore her. This is what happens when you grow up in a crew of less than twenty-five people. You forget there’s such a thing as privacy.”

“I do not know this word,” Kitty said. “Someone explain.”

“See?” Brandon said.

Just then Callie felt an odd fluttery sensation starting in her stomach, and instinctively turned and looked at the door. Colt and Remy had just walked in, wearing identical forest-green shirts that clung to their broad muscled shoulders and jeans that hung low on their hips and showed off their asses, and exuding identical ‘I-will-give-you-multiple-orgasms-and-make-you-scream-my-name’ vibes.

Their blond hair was mussed in a way that looked casual and probably wasn’t, and they somehow managed to have the identical perfect amount of sexy scruff on their faces.

Callie could practically see the panties melting all over the room. In fact, she thought hers might be starting to scorch just a little.

Right at that second, Colt glanced over and looked directly into her eyes. A small smile touched the corner of his mouth.

Yep. Panties melted. Sheeyit.

He gazed into her eyes for a moment, and then the smile got just a little bigger. Remy waved to her and moved off to the far end of the bar, where a bunch of girls were standing, staring at the twins.

Colt made his way across the room. Callie had orders up, but somehow all she could do was stand there and watch Colt come toward her.

She kept forgetting how breathtaking he was, until he was right there in front of her, taking her breath away.

“Hi,” she said brilliantly.

“Hi.”

There was a short pause, and then they both said, “Look, I’m sorry about the other day—” and then they both stopped and laughed awkwardly.

“You first,” Colt said. “Because I’m a fucking gentleman.”

“Oh. Well, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I kind of lit into you about taking things over, the other day? It’s a little bit of a sore spot with me. Obviously.”

“Yeah,” Colt said. “I get that. I didn’t mean to. I’m just—you know. A twin. For us, life is a team thing. So, people wanting to do things on their own? Kind of doesn’t compute.”

“Oh.” Callie had never thought of it that way. “Right. Okay. So we’re all good, right?”

“Sure.” He waited, still watching her. “So, then, is that thong dance still on the table? At all? You wouldn’t even have to buy me dinner.”

Callie rolled her eyes and backhanded him on his rock-hard abs. “Go try that line on somebody else. There must be someone here drunk enough to fall for it, but it’s not me. Shoo. I’m working, here.”

She turned away toward the bar, resisting the urge to fan herself.

So. Hot.