Page 57 of Luck of the Draw

Brennan placed his hand on the base of her chin and turned her face back toward him. “Skye. You’re definitely not stupid, and I’m not stupid enough to think you are.”

“Hmph.”

“I promise nothing is wrong.”

“Something is,” Skye insisted, pulling her chin out of his grasp and turning away, “but you don’t want me to know, and that’s still okay. It’s none of my business. I just hope you know that I care, and I’m concerned.”

Brennan kissed the side of her face. “I love that you care. You’re a sweetheart. But please don’t worry. I know I don’t have much time left with you, and I don’t want any of it wasted with worry.”

She sighed and knocked her knuckles on the table. “Why don’t you deal in my handsome date here, Jeffrey?” She patted the seat next to her. “Have a seat while I beat your ass, honey.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He did as he was told, and now they were talking. This was exactly what he wanted to do with the rest of his night—at least until later. He raised his hand in the air, and the cocktail waitress arrived at his side in a matter of seconds.

“Hey darlin’, would you mind drumming up a couple of shots for us?” He made a circle with his wrist, gesturing at the group. “For me, and my lovely Lady Luck, and Jeffrey, and one for you too, sweetheart.”

“Oh no,” Skye said with a laugh. “Here we go. I’ve got precious little time during my trip, and Mr. Riley over here is trying to make me forget the rest of the night.”

“Well, baby,” Brennan declared, “they call this place the City that Care Forgot, so let’s get to forgettin’.”

She held out her palm to him. “Yes sir. Gimme some skin.”

He low-fived her. “Oh, I’ll give you some skin all right.”

She snorted and laughed, and it was cute as hell.

“Yeah, you’re laughing, but I’m serious,” he said, lips stretching into a wide grin before he leaned close to whisper into her ear. “I think we should have dirty, drunk monkey sex. On all of my beautiful furniture. How’s that sound?”

She laughed louder and dropped her head on his shoulder. “Let’s do it.” She twirled her finger in a circle. “Shots all the way around. Viva New Orleans.”

“I think you’re supposed to say that in French.”

Skye shrugged and nestled her head deeper into his neck, and he slipped his hand around her waist. “I don’t know any French. Do you?”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Only a certain kind, I’m afraid.”

“What kind is that?”

Brennan turned his face to hover over hers, and she smiled at him, eyes hooded as if she knew without him showing her, but he showed her anyway. A deep, lingering kiss; his tongue playing on hers in a way that would be impossible for her to misinterpret every intention he had for after they left.

* * *

The shots were probably toopotent.

And…there were too many of them.

And…it was now so late that it was early. At least Brennan thought it might be. He wasn’t altogether sure of a lot of things other than the fact that he was having a great fucking time.

Skye had taken up residence on his lap what felt like hours ago, and his thigh felt a bit numb. That was just fine because removing his hands or any other body part from her was an extremely unappealing idea. A group of people whose names he couldn’t remember had joined them. Jeffrey had ended his shift a while back. And Brennan wasn’t even sure if he’d been playing for an hour or more.

Skye lowered her head to his neck for the umpteenth time, which felt better and better every time she did it, and he squeezed her thigh. She yawned against his neck, and he turned his face to catch her mouth with his before she closed it.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve yawned, baby girl.”

“Ha. You can’t even count at this point, so I don’t exactly trust your assessment.”

“What a patently false accusation. I can count just fine.”

“Oh really. Prove it.”

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