Page 55 of Garrison's Creed

Winters stood. “Sugar, girl. Thanks much. We owe you.”

Her smile was as sweet and fake as her name. “That you do. Where’s my boy? Why didn’t he call me?”

She pivoted on the heel of a stiletto that might as well have been a pointed dagger. She snagged Cash with a stare, and he stood helpless, not sure what the fuck he should do. Extend a hand?Shake the woman’s hand. It was a plan. He stepped forward with every intention of a proper hi-how-ya-doing, but she snaked a pink painted nail through his belt loop and threw the other arm around his shoulder.Fuck.

“Cash, baby. No call, no show. What’s the deal, babe? Our boy, Mister One-Woman-Man, has to call. Tsk, tsk, baby. Tsk, tsk.”

The first lesson in sniper school was controlling the mind and body. Controlling breaths. Slowing the heartbeat. Acting and reacting perfectly in the worst possible situations. Well, this might be the worst possible, but there was no way his heart was listening to his commands. For every “slow the eff down,” it sped up. Right now it was going through a bang, bang, bang crescendo.

“Sugar.” He coughed a hello and shrugged out of her perfumed embrace. Nicola slammed them a glare so powerful, he was surprised to find his feet still on the floor.

Sugar took in the room. “I’m not sure that I know everyone.” Who knew Sugar could do anything understated, sarcasm included? “Cash, introduce me please, darh-ling.”

This sucks.

“Sugar, I don’t believe you’ve met Nicola. Nic, Sugar owns a gun club I belong to. Gun range, shop, stuff like that.”

Sugar purred, “Yes, stuff like that. Nicola, was it?”

“NicolaGarrison.” Nic for the point. That was good. He’d take it.

“Sister?”

“Not a chance, Sugar.” Nicola smiled, cold and frosty for the win, at least against Sugar. Nic still looked homicidal.

A door down the hall banged open. Jared walked in a second later and slammed to a stop. “You’re Sugar?” His mouth hung open. “Cash’s Sugar?”

Sugar made some sort of hell-yes noise. There was no Cash’s Sugar. The two of them were casual and occasional, nothing that allowed for possession, and all about blowing off some pressure, when it was needed. And it hadn’t been needed in a while.

Jared slapped his thigh. “Well, fuck—”

“Shut up, Jared.” Cash didn’t have time for this shit. Sugar needed to get out. Fast.

Jared looked at Nic. Sugar looked at Nic. Everyone but Cash looked at Nic. He was content to shoot daggers at Jared. Rocco choked on his biscuit. Winters’s eyebrows rose as he caught on to Cash’s nightmare. Goddamn it.

Sugar sized Jared up, combat boots to jarhead cut. “You’re Jared?”

“I’m everything. Jared will do though.”

“Humble, I see.”

“You look like your name.”

“I look like a lot of things, Jared.Doesn’t mean you’re right.”

They squared off. Everyone was tense. Pissed off women were trouble. Pissed off at him was a disaster, as far as Cash was concerned. “Alrighty, Sugar. We have to get started.” If Jared wasn’t going to wrap up this meet and greet, Cash would. Sugar needed to get gone. Now.

“Soon as someone pays up, I’m outta here, cowboy.”

“Right. Let’s do this. Come with me.” Jared walked out, probably expecting Sugar to follow. He needed to learn a little more about her before he could make those educated guesses. Sugar did what she wanted, no matter who was looking or ordering.

“So, Cash, baby. You coming over after this job’s done?”

“He’s not. But thanks for inviting him.” Nic was on it, spitting sweet sarcasm. All Cash could do was watch.

“Not sure I was talking to you.”

“Not sure I care.”

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