Page 159 of Rock Chick Rescue

Daisy’s laugh tinkled again. “This is soundin’ better by the minute.”

Not to me.

To me it was sounding scarier by the minute, but I had no choice. If I didn’t want to get raped (eventually), shot at anymore and owe a posse of new friends for saving my life and my somewhat tainted virtue, I had to kick in.

So we lifted the dregs of our second martini and toasted our plan—Daisy with a giggle, Indy with a grin and me with a belly clutch.

* * *

It wasan hour later and we were slowly nursing our fourth martini (because two was enough, four was just plain crazy) when Daisy’s eyes locked on something over my shoulder and she sucked in breath.

“Oh sweet Lord, if I didn’t have Marcus, I’d get me some ofthat.”

I looked over my shoulder and saw Eddie scanning the room. His eyes hit me and he started coming our way.

My belly curled in a happy way.

I ignored my belly, turned back and told Daisy, “That’s Eddie.”

Daisy’s eyes dropped to the badge Eddie wore on his belt.

“Eddie, as in Eddie Chavez?” she asked, her eyes getting wide.

I nodded.

“Seein’ as my baby’s in the business he’s in, I don’t normally like cops, but this time, I’m makin’ an exception,” she declared.

I felt a hand curve around the back of my neck and I tilted my head to look up. Eddie bent low and his mouth touched mine. My happy belly curl went into overdrive, then he straightened and took in Indy and Daisy.

“Ladies,” he greeted.

I introduced Daisy.

She put her hand in his and said, straight out, “Sugar bunch, you arefine.”

Eddie smiled, but didn’t say anything. Then again, whatcouldyou say?

His eyes turned to me. “We’ve got an errand to run,” he reminded me, like I’d forget.

I got up and waved to the girls.

“I’ll call you later,” Indy said, giving me a look.

I nodded to Indy as Eddie steered me out of the room. It took a lot of steering. I had a serious buzz on.

When I wandered into him, Eddie looked down at me and his hand at my back slid around my side and he pulled me to him but kept walking.

“You drunk?” he asked, sounding amused.

“Maybe just a little bit,” I admitted. “I think I should have stopped at the third martini.”

We’d cleared the bar and were standing by Eddie’s truck, parked at the curb. He pushed me into it with a hand at my belly and got close.

“So, you’re saying youdidn’tstop at the third martini?”

I shook my head.

“And you’re maybe just alittle bitdrunk?” he went on.

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