Four Seconds to Lose
Page 57

I fight the urge to pull her in to me but I can’t keep my gaze from dropping to those round tits and my mouth instantly parts, remembering the softness of them against my tongue. When I look back up, Charlie’s eyes have darkened slightly.
“Good to know.” With a wink and a firm, slow rub up and back down my arm, she turns to Dan and says, “Storm wanted me to tell you that she needs you at the grill. Tanner’s out of control.”
With a heavy sigh, Dan mutters, “Did he bring that damn spray gun again?”
“Yes.” Charlie giggles. “And it’s ridiculous.”
Shaking his head, Dan smiles warmly down at her. “Okay, tell her I’ll be there shortly.”
With my glass to my mouth, my focus trails Charlie out the door, her hips swaying teasingly. She knows I’m watching. She must know.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you, man. Wow.” Dan’s brow furrows. “A bit young, though . . .”
“Twenty-two.”
He blows a mouthful of air out. “Well, if you were ever to give in to an employee, I wouldn’t blame you for that one.”
Too late. And I’m going to do anything I can to give in again. Tonight.
“Until then, do you want me to call Mercy to deal with your little problem?” Ben asks. “She’s fantastic. And discreet.”
I level Ben with a glare. “You’d better be f**king joking.”
“Of course I’m joking! I haven’t touched her . . . yet.” His face splits into a wide grin.
“Good, because I’d seriously fire your ass.”
“Well, then . . .” Ben slaps his hand on the coffee table. “Consider this my notice.”
By the looks that exchange between me and the others, we’re all wondering the same thing—is Ben serious?
He winks, then offers in a more somber tone, “I landed a full-time gig at a law firm in town. Just found out this morning.”
“Seriously, Morris?” Nate presses.
“Yep.” Ben’s arms stretch out over his head, his hands nesting behind his neck as he sighs heavily.
I wasn’t expecting to lose Ben so soon. “But, don’t you have another month before you get your bar exam results?”
He waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, but I aced that. I’m not worried. They’re not worried. I’ll just be considered in a probationary period until I’m official.”
My previous annoyance with Ben instantly vanishes. I close the distance as he accepts a congratulatory slap across the chest from Nate. I offer him my hand, which he takes firmly, a glimmer of satisfaction in those blue irises. “We’re gonna miss you, buddy, but that’s amazing. You’ve done well.” He really has. After blowing his knee out and losing his shot as a star quarterback, Ben leveraged his brain—one most people wouldn’t realize he had—to put himself through law school. Now, after years at Penny’s, Ben is moving on.
The tactless brute bows his head, a rare pensive look flashing over his face. I’ll bet he hasn’t bothered to mention it to his dad. The cranky old scrooge would somehow twist it into a failure. I think that’s why Ben is such an easy, happy guy all the time. He’s deathly afraid of ever being compared to his own father.
“Seriously, dude, don’t go out there with that. It’s embarrassing. I’ve got a picture of Charlie onstage that I can send to your phone, if you need it while you deal with your issue in the can.”
The moment’s over.
Chapter twenty-six
CHARLIE
I shouldn’t be here.
“Ahhh . . . this is the life,” Ginger sighs, sinking back into her chair with a fresh margarita in hand. “If only we didn’t have to work tonight.”
I grunt in agreement, taking in the stunning stone patio area that overlooks an enormous oddly shaped pool with several alcoves. The entire space is adorned with various tropical flowers. Sitting where we are, we’re completely protected from the sun with a pergola and lattice.
“Thank God for the breeze,” Ginger adds, and my eyes follow hers to the two oversized ceiling fans affixed to the beams above us, working overtime to circulate the hot summer air.
The sound of flames sputtering pulls my attention away to the far end, where Tanner—completing the “Cousin Eddie” look with a straw hat, black socks pulled halfway up his calves, and sandals—is demonstrating to Dan why his use of the two-handed squirt gun on a grill should be marketed. Alternating between head shakes and low chuckles, Dan finally gets Tanner to surrender his weapon and leave the grilling to him.
To the newly appointed DEA agent.
I shouldn’t be here.
But I didn’t really have a choice, I tell myself. Ginger was hell bent on bringing me. When she admitted with a smile that Cain was hell bent on her bringing me, too, any hope for an argument died on my lips.
When Storm directed me to take a tray of veggies to a room down the hall, I didn’t expect to be walking into a group of men talking about me yanking on parts of Cain. Coming from Ben’s mouth, it’s not exactly shocking, but still. I’m not sure how I kept the blush from my face. I was sure my knees would buckle for a moment when they all stopped to stare at me.
By the look on Cain’s face, he was both surprised and very pleased to see me. By his blatant ogling, I’m pretty sure he wants more of what he got last night. That thought makes my entire body hum with excitement.
“You okay? You’ve been quieter than usual today.” I turn to find Ginger watching me intently.
“Yeah, fine. Just tired,” I murmur through another yawn. I feel like I could sleep for days.
“Late night?”
“Yeah.” I help myself to a carrot. Tired and hungry. I haven’t eaten all day. My body is all kinds of messed up.
“Hmm . . . So, did you finally break that stoic horse and work him in good?”
“Ginger!” My wide eyes dart over to Tanner. He’s within earshot, but his back is to us and he keeps it that way. Given that he’s avoided all eye contact with me since my near-nude fiasco with the deliveryman yesterday, I’m not surprised.
Thankfully, Storm passes through the doorway at that precise moment, balancing two bowls against her belly, exclaiming loudly, “Chow time!” Cain trails behind her, his strong arms laden down with more food. I noticed earlier that he kept a bit of the scruff on his face, shaving everywhere except the area around his chin and mouth.
I really loved the feel of that soft scratch against my skin.
My heart automatically starts racing and I catch myself smiling, memories of last night hitting me deep in my belly. All other realities fade into the background and my problems somehow become less urgent, less serious. That’s what being around Cain does for me. He’s a mental shield against all that is bad in my life. Even stripping onstage turned into something I could sort of enjoy—in a twisted way—because of him.
“Cain! We were just talking about you,” Ginger chirps, relishing any opportunity to tease her boss.
“I’ll bet,” he mutters dryly, disappearing behind me to place the platters down on a side table. A second later, I feel cool hands curl around my neck and his index fingers slowly trace along my collarbone.
He must feel the hard swallow in my throat as I try to calm myself. What is he doing? Does he want everyone to know that we slept together last night?