Page 9 of Theirs to Corrupt

I force a smile. “Yeah. Fine.”

She nods, understanding in her eyes. “They’re a handful.”

“Nothing I can’t deal with. It’s…” I come up with a story that’s really close to the truth. “I babysat all night, so I’m tired.”

She nods.

Cheryl and I are kept busy delivering drinks to all the patrons, and I have to walk by Link and Pax’s table several times.

Now I begin to see the method to his madness.

Keeping me near?

The thought is ridiculous, and I shake myself to rein in my galloping thoughts.

Why would two insanely gorgeous men want something to do with a woman who is barely scraping by with this job and the occasional babysitting gig—anything that pays under the table so I don’t have to show identification or file taxes.So that no one knows who or where I am.

At one point, I might have had the opportunity to meet Link at a party or something, but that was when my?—

This time, I shake my head, ruthlessly cutting off my ruminations.

That part of my life is over.

Tessa has vanished.

And Nikki is determined to be a survivor.

In a small act of defiance, I deliver their order last. And I slide the first drink in front of Pax.

Then Link reaches for his glass and intentionally touches my hand.

Sensual awareness crashes through me.

If he hadn’t been paying attention and caught the glass, I would have dropped the whiskey.

“Thank you, little dove,” he murmurs, his voice soft and intimate, husky.

Not trusting myself to speak, I hurry away.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of drink orders and country ballads. Every time I approach Link and Pax’s table, I feel their gazes on me, assessing, evaluating. Their scrutiny unnerves me.

Finally Pax signals for the bill.

Like last time, Link offers me an enormous tip.

Though the money is nice, I wonder about his motivations. “I don’t need to be bought.”

“For the conversation you didn’t hear?” He smiles, knowing I’ve inadvertently revealed the truth.

Damn it.I have to be more careful. If Nikki is to get away with this ruse, I can’t afford slipups.

“Once more, you earned it,” Pax says, ignoring his boss’s jab. “For serving the whole bar.”

Well, except most people tipped me when I delivered their drinks.

Still, I pluck the crisp bills from Link’s fingers, taking care not to touch him. I’ve had enough of that unnerving experience.

If he wants to shove hundred-dollar bills at me, who am I to complain?

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