Page 45 of Tangled Kisses
“So, what’s rule number two?”
She lifts her beer, eyes gleaming. “No locals. You can’t date anyone from Tangled Vines. Keeps things clean, keeps it from getting messy in town.”
My stomach dips. Well. There’s strike one.
Not that Griffin was an option. He never was. But at least now I know for certain—whatever passes between us, it’s only flirtation. Nothing more.
I should feel relieved. No more what-ifs. No more lying awake wondering if the way he looks at me means something.
So why do I feel worse instead?
I clear my throat, forcing myself to appear casual. “Like Jimmy?” I nod toward the bartender polishing glasses at the far end.
“Exactly. Or Colton.” Piper gestures with her bottle toward the other side of the bar.
I follow her line of sight. A blond man in a fitted Henley leans against the jukebox, laughing with a group of guys. Broad shoulders, an easy smile, and the kind of presence that fills a room without trying.
“The firefighter?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“The very one.” Piper’s grin widens, a touch too smug. “Local hero. Runs into burning buildings, saves kittens from trees, has abs that apparently put Greek statues to shame.”
“Sounds like someone’s been paying attention,” I tease.
She waves me off, though her cheeks tint pink. “Even if I did, it doesn’t matter. Rule’s a rule.”
This coming from the queen of rule breaking.
“Do you actually enjoy the work?” I ask.
Piper shrugs, unbothered. “Most of the time, yeah. It’s fun. I’ve met some interesting people.”
“And done some interesting things.”
She smirks. “Sis, I was a sex fiend long before I entered this field.”
“Why? Sex is overrated.”
“Translation,” Piper says, “your ex was a terrible lover.”
“He was fine, I guess.”
“No, he was stingy and a serial cheating asshole who never got you off.”
I huff out a breath and take a swallow of beer. “That, too.”
“That’s unacceptable, Reese.”
I throw up my hands, noting the mischievous glint in her eyes. “What do you want me to do about it? Some people enjoy sex and others don’t. Simple as that.”
“Absolutely not.” Piper stands and waves her hands at someone behind me, motioning them over. “Griffin. Just the man we need to talk to.”
Oh, no, Piper. What are you planning?
Then I catch it. Her classic ‘I’ve had a bit too much to drink, and now all bets are off’ smile.
Griffin slides onto the stool beside me, all easy swagger and dimples. He tips his head, that smile wicked enough to melt the strongest resolve. “What can I do for you lovely ladies?”
Piper bangs her fry down like a gavel. “My sister has had a tragic run with terrible men.” She raises her glass in a toast to no one, her tone growing theatrical. “And she needs—no, nay, shedeserves—to be laid properly. To experience the full depth and breadth of the female orgasm.”
