Page 34 of Trashy Foreplay

“I’m sure, thanks.”

After the bartender goes off to fetch our drinks, Lesley turns to me and grips both of my arms. “I had no idea you knew the owner.”

“I don’t really know him.”

She quirks a brow. “Well, he seems to know you.”

“Okay, I met him once. He’s my boss’s brother.” Just thinking about Cash gets my blood pumping. Our run-in today at the market left me in a state of chaos. That whole encounter feels like a dirty secret I’m keeping.

“Wait, hold up a minute. Are you saying that hot-as-fuck man is related tothoseMontgomerys?”

“Kaden is Cash’s twin.”

“Jesus, Jules. Imagine being the bologna in that sandwich.”

I imagine it all too well, but Kaden isn’t part of the picture, which leaves me baffled. How the hell can two men who are near replicas of each other, down to the timbre of their voices and the storm in their eyes, affect me so differently?

“Control yourself,” I say with a nervous laugh, hoping she won’t catch on to how I’ve imagined all kinds of things with Kaden’s brother. “You’re here for business, remember?”

“Damn straight! You’ve gotta talk to him for us. It’s obvious he’s into you.”

“Talk to him…?” No way is she asking what I think she’s asking.

“Yeah, hook the band up. Please?” She bats her long lashes at me. “If anyone can get us a gig here, it’s you.”

Fuck. After everything Les and the guys have done for me, I can’t tell her no. But the thought of asking Kaden for anything fills me with unease. Just like she picked up on Kaden’s interest only minutes ago, I also felt it from the moment we first met at Mont Center. If only he were Cash.

If only Cash weren’t married.

If only…

“C’mon, Jules.Pleeeease. I promise I’ll never call you Julie Bean again.”

I burst out laughing. She called me that once, and after learning that it was a pet name my sister gave me, she swore to never do it again. “No need to pull out the big guns, Les. I’ll talk to him.”

She dances in her seat, squealing her excitement. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. This is meant to be—I can feel it.”

Shane places Lesley’s drink on the counter before setting a tall glass of ice water in front of me. “Sure I can’t get you anything else?” His mouth is wide and sensuous, and if I weren’t so hung up on a man I can’t have, I might find the bartender attractive.

“I’m sure.”

“Holler if you change your mind,” he says before moving away to tend to other clubbers.

I turn my attention on Lesley again. Sipping her drink, she looks at me with teasing eyes.

“What?” I ask, raising a brow.

“You’ve got ‘em eating out of your hand tonight, Jules. What’s your secret?”

Mentally, I scoff. Maybe I’ve got a flashing neon sign on my forehead that saysonly interested in unattainable men. Seems like it’s human nature to chase what you can’t have. “I’m not the only one. A certain brooding guitarist only has eyes for you.”

She almost chokes on her drink. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

The mirth in her expression disappears, and I almost feel bad, except that turning the conversation on her takes it off ofme.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she says, but as she sets her drink down on the counter with a frown, I know that she knows exactly what I mean.

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