“Fuck off.”
His hearing was better than a typical human, just not as good as a wolf. Another delight of having old friends—the arguments carried on for years. “You want me to open a can of whoop-ass on you?”
His friend twisted in his chair. “Ignoring for a brief moment the all-too-desirable damsels who are flirting with us, are you ready for this year’s challenge?”
“I take it we’re not canoeing the length of the Yangtze River?” He’d come so close to winning last year, he’d been positive Damon wouldn’t dare another physical challenge. Yet here they were in Nevada. “We’re trekking across the desert, right? No food, no water. A true Survivorman in the best tradition of shifterdom.”
“Unfortunately, there are a few too many satellites perusing this section of the state. I don’t think we want anyone wondering why there’s a grizzly trekking through the area. Hell, do you want to end up hit by another tranquilizer dart?”
Jim chuckled over a previous year’s disaster. “I never expected the RCMP to find us that far north in Québec.”
“You’re lucky I figured out which zoo they took you to after you got caught.” Damon put his empty glass on the bar. “No, since I am the previous winner and get to set the challenge, I’ve worked hard to make it perfect. I considered organizing a game of wits—”
“Admitting defeat already, are you? Since you’re unarmed?”
Damon ignored his interruption. “—and instead decided that, come Friday, we’ll be biking to Crater Lake and back.”
Wait. “Okay, the biking thing works for me, as long as you’re talking motorbikes, but what the hell? Why did you tell me to get here on Monday if this doesn’t go down until Friday?”
“Can I borrow your phone for a second?”
Jim stifled his second what the hell and handed it over. “Not answering my question is immature. What gives?”
His friend shrugged, poking briefly at the phone. “I figured you need one thing right now. Time off.”
“Right. I’ll take the day off to do the ride.”
“And you’ll dive right back into work the next day.”
“So?” Jim glared, daring him to keep pushing.
Like the moonstruck-crazy wolf that he was, Damon only grinned harder. “So, consider this an enforced vacation. From now until we hit the road, you’re off the clock. You’re in Vegas. Play some games, find someone to screw. Have some fun.”
Damn it. His friend was asshole enough to force him to have a good time. “This is bullshit, Damon. Give me back my phone.”
“Sure.”
Jim watched in shocked disbelief as Damon deliberately dropped his lifeline to work into the beer pitcher the waiter had just set on the counter.
“You shit.”
Damon hauled the container out of reach before Jim could rescue his technology. “I know you have nothing vital in the works, because you had no idea where I would take us. Which means, as completely obsessive as you are, you cleared your calendar for the week. Suck it up and have a good time for a change.”
It was damn near impossible to stay angry with the loco wolf. “You owe me a new phone, and a new pitcher of beer.”
“Deal.” Damon thrust out a hand. “First thing when we get back from the road trip, I’ll buy you one with all the bells and whistles.”
Jim gave in and gave up, shaking his friend’s hand. It wasn’t that bad an idea—spending a couple days hanging out with the bastard. “We haven’t done this for a long time.”
“Maybe you haven’t, but I’m fully up to speed with all my moves, and ready for the next round.” Damon eased back his chair, tilting his head toward the women, making it obvious what kind of action was on his mind.
Hell, yeah. Jim made eye contact with the ladies who sized him up as if he were a tasty piece of cake. One of them licked her lips, and a hit of sexual heat rolled through his gut. If Damon insisted he had to stay and play?
Playing could be fun.
He slapped a pile of bills on the counter, motioning for the bartender. “Tell the ladies their drinks are on me.”
Jim planted a hand between Damon’s shoulders and forcibly directed him around the corner of the elevated bar. The women watched, rosy-cheeked and obviously pleased at their approach.
“Who says you’re out of practice?” Damon elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re such a dog.”
“Look who’s talking, wolfboy.”
His friend didn’t argue. In fact, he slipped between the women easily, hands landing on their shoulders as he kicked into flirtation mode.
With devoted attention to his task, Damon didn’t notice Jim jerk to a complete stop, captured by the most mesmerizing sight on the casino floor.