Page 18 of Poison Pen

“You know literally nothing about me,” she deadpanned.

“And I liked nearly all of it,” he tossed back, wagging his eyebrows.

“Alright.” I stepped forward, some strange instinct making me want to put myself between my best friend and the woman who I was starting to suspect might actuallybea little crazy.

But I had found that I liked a bit of crazy now and then.

“I think Betty has had enough of your slick country charm, Rivers.”

“Hold on,” she cut in, waving the bottle she was still holding like a weapon. “Don’t go speaking on my behalf, mister. Maybe a little slick country charm is exactly what the doctor ordered.”

“Well, now, Miss Betty,” Easton drawled, his words suddenly peppered with a ridiculous western twang I’d never heard him use before. “If’n it’s a cowboy yer after, I think I might just be fixin’ to rustle me up a bride.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I said, landing a solid punch to Easton’s arm. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard leave your mouth, and that really is saying something.”

“Give him a break,” Betty said with a giggle. “I think he’s cute.”

“He’s definitely not cute, Betty.”

“Again, my name isn’t Betty.”

“It’s not?” Easton asked.

“No.” But she still didn’t tell us what her name actually was. Instead, Betty hefted the bottle I’d handed her into the air by the neck and spun on her heel. “And now, gentlemen, I bid you good day. I have a bottle of whiskey in my hand and a couch calling my name.” Pushing the door open, she flashed us a wicked smile, before backing out the door.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then Easton let out a low whistle, looking at me with his eyebrows raised.

“Please tell me you’re hittin’ that,” he ground out. “Because if you’re not, can I have a try?”

Taking a deep breath, I counted to five, trying to remind myself why punching my best friend and business partner in the face was a bad decision.

“I literally just met her.”

“But youwantto be hittin’ that, am I right?”

Was he?

I wasn’t sure. Betty was attractive, no doubt, with that dark hair and gorgeous olive skin, and big brown eyes that seemed to be perpetually narrowed at me in annoyance. There was no denying the fact that I liked looking at her.

But, was it smart to get involved with a woman who lived in the building I was starting a business in?

Probably not.

Was that going to stop me?

Probably not.

“Let’s just focus on what we need to do here,” I said instead of answering him, his knowing smile making it very clear how transparent my deflection attempt was. “I’ve almost got the last shelf installed. It would have gone a fuck of a lot faster if I’d had a second set of hands to help me out, but my partner was somehow missing in action. Again.”

“Hey,” he defended with a laugh. “Lunch is the most important meal of the day.”

I opened my mouth to offer some sort of witty retort, but a sudden noise and a scream from the front of the building drew us both up short.

“Was that—” Easton began, but a second scream cut him off.

“It was.” I sped past him, practically elbowing him out of the way in my haste to get to the door.

I may have only just met her, but I had recognized Betty’s voice—and the rage that scream contained.

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