Page 28 of Texas Hold Em'
She disappeared into my bedroom and closed the door. Seconds later, we heard a blow dryer turn on.
“She going somewhere?” Jackson asked.
“Not that I’m aware of,” I said.
Mason chuckled. “Just getting dolled up for you, then?”
“Piss off,” I said.
Mason held up his hands in a display of innocence. “Just saying, man. She’s a beautiful girl. I wouldn’t blame you if you, you know, wanted to take her for a test drive.”
“She’s a viper,” Jackson grated. “No test drives.”
Mason shrugged one shoulder. “In my experience a well-fucked woman is a hell of a lot less trouble.”
Jackson’s eyes narrowed.
I grinned, glad the heat was off me finally. “Does that apply to Suzie?”
Mason gaped like a fish out of water. “That’s not what I meant.”
Jackson moved toward the Vice President. “What did you mean?”
“I was talking out of my ass,” Mason said hurriedly. “Tex, youknow what I’m saying, right? It was a joke, Jack. Honestly. I don’t fuck—I don’t—Suzie isn’t—shit.” He ran his hand over his head and his shoulders slumped.
I laughed. “Just don’t let Suzie hear you talk like that, Mason. She’d tie you to the back of her bike by your balls and open the throttle.”
Mason winced and tugged at the front of his jeans. “Shit, man.”
Jackson grumbled. “Not a half-bad idea.”
The blow dryer stopped humming in the bedroom. What was that girl up to in there?
I lit another cigarette and puffed on it while Jackson backed off Mason and cast irritated glances at the bedroom door. “We should send her back to Austin. For all we know they wanted her dead last night, not you Tex.”
“Like I said, she can handle herself,” I said.
“She’s bad news,” Jackson said. “I can feel it in my bones. We’re better off without her.”
“You were the one who told me to keep her close,” I said.
“That was before she started walking around like a smart ass. If we keep her around, best case scenario she’ll be collateral damage. And worst case? She’s not on our side. She’s playing the long game. She could be our undoing.”
The bedroom door opened and Carrie stepped out.
My jaw nearly hit the floor.
Mason cleared his throat and didn’t take his eyes off her as she moved across the apartment and grabbed the keys to my Chevelle hanging by the front door. She wore a pair of skintight leather leggings and a cropped red shirt the color of wine. Her lips were painted the same deep shade, and her long blonde hair was shiny and lightly tousled. If the boys hadn’t been here, I’d have pinned her against the wall and ruined her lipstick, among other things.
“Where the hell are you going?” Jackson asked.
Carrie lifted her chin. “I have a plan of my own worked out.”
Jackson let out barking laughter. “Give me a break. What sort of plan requires the whore getup?”
Carrie smiled not-so-sweetly. “For your information, these areyourgirl’s clothes.”
Jackson held his tongue, and I held in my laughter. Carrie wasn’t afraid of him. Not even a little bit. Hell, I wondered if she was afraid of anyone or anything.
