Page 22 of Strike Zone

“I could’ve dealt with that guy myself.”

“I know. We all know, Dee, but God, does everything have to be a fight with you? Can’t you two call a truce for the night, and let’s have some fun?”

“Fine.”

“Shake on it.”

“Are you kidding me?”

She stares me down with the same look Mom used to give me when we were kids, the one you don’t mess with. “No.”

I extend my hand out to Linc. “Thank you for defending my honor… even though I didn’t need you to.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Truce?”

“I’m not fighting you, southpaw.” He takes my proffered hand, and the chemistry between us flares. I know he feels it too when he pulls away as if he’s just taken a hit of 120V. “I need a drink.”

“Now there’s something we can agree on.”

“Halle-fucking-lujah.” Anders slings an arm over each of our shoulders. “Now that we’re all friends, there’s a bottle of whiskey at the bar with my name on it.”

This place is packed. Fifty people didn’t sound like a lot in theory, but it’s wall-to-wall bodies as we weave our way through. I draw the line at the bodyguards hovering while we party. They’re stationed at the entrance to the VIP section with strict instructions not to judge me tomorrow for whatever debauchery transpires tonight.

Brooke and I are quick to fall into our college days of tequila shots, lime, and salt. Nothing like a good salty lick before downing a shot. Three drinks in, and Anders is already trying to steal my drinking partner for a dance.

“I need my extremely hot wife for a while. She looks smoking in this dress, and I need her grinding against me in it.”

“That’s what the bathroom stalls are for.”

As he takes her hand and pulls her to his side, he gives me a wry smile. “You don’t really think I’d risk anyone else hearing her when she comes, do you? That shit is mine and mine alone.”

They disappear into the crowd, and I’m left with Linc.

“Now I know where you get your chauvinist dirty talk from.”

“I taught him everything he knows. How do you think he snagged your sister?”

“We need more tequila.”

“Will you dance with me if I do a few shots with you?”

“I’m not that drunk.” He doesn’t even bother to reply but heads for the bar and re-appears a few minutes later with a bottle of Patrón.

He sets it down on the table and turns to leave. “Enjoy your drink.”

“You’re not going to drink with me?”

“No, I’m going to go and flirt with the cute blonde who was trying to give me her number while I was getting your tequila. I know it comes as a shock to you, but most women find me irresistible.”

“One shot.”

“Fine.” He fills one of my empty shot glasses, grabs my hand, and shakes some salt on it. “You get one.” Lifting my hand to his lips, he pins me with his ice-blue gaze as he licks the salt from my skin before downing the shot and biting a wedge of lime to chase it down. My traitorous body ignites at his touch and fills with desire.

Chapter Six

LINC

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