Page 4 of Recklessly Yours

I frowned at her. “Who?”

She rolled her eyes. “Brittney.”

Okay. That was common knowledge around here, and even if she weren’t married, there was no way I’d go there. Jackson’s sister fell into the same category as Rhett’s. Getting involved with a friend’s sister was a terrible idea. Although apparently Jackson missed that memo. He’d married Ashley, after all.

With a nod to Savannah, I glanced over at the curvy brunette who stepped up and took a shot glass.

“Kelly’s married too.” Savannah sighed dramatically. “Hattie and I are the only single ladies here. Sucks to be your dick.” Brow arched, she looked me up and down. “I’d totally sleep with you, though.”

“Oh my god, Savannah.” Hattie rolled her eyes as she sidled up next to me. “Leave the poor guy alone.”

As she picked up her shot from the bar, her arm brushed against mine. On contact, my body went rigid, and I was taken back to that party a couple of years ago. To the hours we spent chatting and—admittedly—flirting.

I stole a glance at her. She was still as gorgeous as she was that summer. While her sisters were objectively good-looking, she possessed her own natural, simple beauty. If she was wearing makeup at all, it wasn’t much. Her highlights were subtle, making it hard to tell whether she’d had them done in a salon or had just been out in the sun recently.

“You’re making him uncomfortable,” Hattie added.

I bit back a groan. At the moment, it was difficult to tell who had the honor of that discomfort—the far too brazen sister, or the sweet, irresistible one.

Savannah gave her sister a pout, but her expression quickly morphed into a wicked grin. She raised her shot glass, and the rest of us did the same. Then, once we’d clinked them all together, we threw them back.

Despite my opinion of the wild Williams sister, I couldn’t deny that the burn of the tequila felt good.

Hattie held her shot glass in a strange grip, with all her fingers curled around it, almost like she was trying to hide it in her fist.

Weird. I ran my gaze over her, taking in her purple nail polish and the forced smile that was failing to hide a glimmer of annoyance.

Savannah interrupted my thoughts when she threw her hands up and moved back into the crowd.

“Come on, let’s dance,” she yelled over her shoulder.

Brittney and the other woman—Kelly, I supposed—followed her. Hattie, on the other hand, sighed and placed her full shot glass back on the bar.

My lips curled up. Interesting.

How did none of us notice she hadn’t tossed it back when we did?

“You didn’t want your drink?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m driving home. Pretty soon, Savannah will be drunk enough not to notice when I sneak out.”

I cocked my head. “Why didn’t you just say no?”

“Then she would have made a stink about it.” She shrugged. “I’ve had twenty-seven years to learn how to work my siblings.”

Impressed, I grinned at her. Even I, who rarely missed anything, hadn’t noticed that she didn’t take the shot. Although given a few more uninterrupted minutes of perusal, I might have realized it.

“I don’t want to be stuck here for longer than I have to be.”

I chuckled. “Not having fun?”

“At this lovely party full of couples and kids? I’m having the time of my life,” she deadpanned. “Can’t you tell?” With that, she shot me a wink and walked away.

A small chuckle slipped past my lips. Damn. I’d almost forgotten that about her. She was quiet, sure, but every time I talked to her, she made me smile. Probably because it only happened once every few years. Maybe I should start remembering that.

I blinked. Wait. No. I shouldnotremember that.

I was not dating the Williams sisters. Any of them—married, crazy, or mute.

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