Page 88 of The Devil's Scars

“Gimme a hint,” he begged. “Just one.”

“Black silk and lace.”

His breath actually stopped in his chest. “You bought it? The set that I pointed out?”

“Maybe.”

“Baby…”

“That’s all you get, Scars.” She stepped back a bit, smiling that fucking heart-stopping smile at him. “If you want to know for sure, meet me in our favorite back room in an hour.”

“An hour!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “You’re gonna make me wait an hour?”

“I am.”

“So cruel,” he said dolefully. “So heartless.”

She giggled again, then looked over at the bar, where Wolf, Cole, the twins, and Rebel were sitting. They were all grinning at her, making kissy faces and noises, and laughing uproariously. She rolled her eyes at them, knowing that she looked exactly like a disapproving school marm, and they burst into peels of laughter again.

Scars heard them, turned to look at his brothers too. “They never get tired of teasing us, do they?”

“Apparently not,” Zoe said, with a massive mock sigh that she was sure the guys clocked from the bar. “Then again, they did have quite the pool going on when and how we’d get together. Seems they thought we were one hell of a long shot.”

“Because of you,” Scars said as they crossed the room to the guys. “The big bet was on if you’d ever get your stubborn, pretty little head out of your ass and give me a chance.”

“Eight hundred bucks to Wolf for believing in me,” Zoe said wryly. “Nice of him to give me half, though.”

“Well, well, well,” Wolf said to them now, standing up and gallantly offering Zoe his bar stool. “How are the lovebirds today?”

“Horny,” Zoe told him, just to get a reaction. “Sooooo horny.”

The other men didn’t even blink.

“Figures,” Cole said, setting a beer in front of Scars and a Coke in front of Zoe. “I swear, every time I see you two together, I feel like holding up a match to see if it catches. Electricity and flame, man. You two are smoking.”

She blushed, and Scars gave her a sexy little wink.

“Want to hold up a match, baby?” he asked her. “See if we make fire?”

She laughed, shook her head with affection. Scars’ cell phone rang then, and he glanced down at the number. He moved away from the bar, said to Zoe, “I’ll just take this, OK?”

“Sure,” she said, taking a big swig of mercifully-alcohol-free Coke. “I’ll just sit here and be ruthlessly and relentlessly teased.”

“Nah,” Dux said, his blue eyes sparkling with warmth and humor. “Me and Drake need to talk to you about getting matching tattoos, so you get a break from the ruthless and relentless teasing.”

“Yeah?” She right way slid into professional persona. “You guys always get matching tats, or this is something new?”

Drake shrugged, ran his hands through his dark hair liberally sprinkled with gray. The salt-and-pepper looked fantastic on the twins, especially with those Arctic-blue eyes, and Zoe called them The Silver Foxes, which made them laugh and tell her how right she was.

“We have gotten matching tattoos before,” he told her. “But we have some individual ones, too.”

“OK. Interesting. I’ll look forward to seeing your ink.”

“Why wait, honey?” Dux said.

“What?”

Bang on cue, without a word, probably using that weird twin telepathy that they had, Dux and Drake whipped off their t-shirts in perfect sync, and Zoe suddenly found herself staring at two gorgeous muscled torsos, both covered in salt-and-pepper hair, which looked just as damn good on their chests as it did on their heads.

---