“Not a cherry. This is my sister, Madison. So hands off, right?” I pulled her up next to me.
Boomer reached out to shake her hand. “Now we know who got the looks in the family.”
Yuckity-yuck.
After enduring endless minutes with the dudes busting my balls out loud to my sister, I left to hunt Shy down. I located her, surrounded by a mob of potential customers, and decided to stand down so she could do her thing.
Didn’t mean my cock was ready to stand down, though.
An hour later I’d tracked her from one end of the room to the other.
The last thing I was thinking about was her recent infection.
I wanted inside her.
Immediately.
Pretty sure it showed in the stark, hungry looks I kept sending her.
I rolled my sleeves up over my inked forearms, lifting my eyes to hers when I felt her hot stare.
She braced back on the long counter, her glimmering gaze smoldering along my frame.
Foreplay.
Fuck-play.
One more hour.
She chatted with everyone. Charmed the shit out of ’em all. The cash register kept chiming. The drinks flowing. Including Retribrewtion beers.
When the shop reached maximum capacity, I whistled between two fingers to get everyone’s attention. “I’ve got something to add, y’all. You see, what Shy here forgot to mention was that the whole making her money part earlier wasn’t exactly accurate.” I hooked an arm around her shoulders while she blushed deliciously. “She’s donating a large percentage of her profit to MUSC Children’s Hospital. So get your shop on, motherfuckers!”
“And that’s a mic drop, motherfuckers,” Tail shouted from the back of the room.
I got a roaring round of applause—or rather Shy did.
Then I noticed Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart, front and center.
Oh well. What are you gonna do?
I sent them a sort of sheepish wave before doing an abrupt about-face so I wouldn’t put my foot in it again with more f-bombs dropped.
But my speech worked like fucking gangbusters, clothes and accessories started flying even faster off the chrome racks.
Boomer dropped a bunch of cash on those high heels he’d been eyeing all week just dying to get them on Rayce’s dainty feet. In electric blue to match the streaks in her hair.
Even Tail picked something up. “You know. It’s always good to have a sorry I gave you the big kiss-off gift when a one-night-stand is about to slash your tires.”
Yeah. He was a total romantic.
Nicky Love showed, causing a big stir with new mom Cat Steele, who was as glamorous as ever.
Then Leelee Stone arrived—Nicky’s friendly competition in the romance writing biz. She was married to his best buddy, Josh Stone, so that shit always made for an interesting dynamic.
“Oh! I’d love to host a book signing here.” Shy shook both their hands, her eyes dancing, her face glowing, and her dress . . . clinging to all her perfect curves.
“Bring it,” Leelee answered, tossing back her pale red hair and thumbing her finger at Nicky. “He’s too busy changing diapers to write his next book.”
“Bullshit. My latest is signed, sealed, and delivered to my editor already, Indie Girl,” he laid down the smack-talk.
“But I thought you were all about being hybrid.” Batting her eyelashes, Leelee smirked.
Josh chuckled at his friend’s expense. “Like those shitty Japanese imports.”
I was distracted from their further baiting banter when I caught sight of a medium-build dude with slicked back hair skulking on the sidewalk outside the open front door.
Prowling toward Diablo, I parted the people standing in my way, almost body-checking them to get to him as sudden red rage pumped through my veins. A wall of summer heat slammed into my body as soon as I exited the store, but it wasn’t as hot as the viral anger amping me high.
I grabbed the dude by the back of his shirt, almost raising him off his feet. I pulled my arm back—prepared to smash his face in half—only to find my fist captured in someone else’s hard grip.
Glaring over my shoulder, I saw Boomer on one side of me, Tail on the other, both of them trying to pull me off cunt-face.
Cunt-face, whose shouts finally cleared the noise of blood rushing through my head. “Hey! Lay off, man! What the hell?”
I released him, and he spun around.
Not Diablo. Just some innocent bystander whose face I’d almost plowed my fist into.
I shrugged free of Boomer and Tail.
“Shit, sorry, dude. Mistaken identity.” I backed off, blowing out a few ragged breaths.
“What the fuck, Handsome?” Boomer pursued me into the shop.
“Like I said. Case of mistaken identity,” I muttered, pissed off with myself and the whole shit-stinking situation.
“So you just got an ax to grind with someone or something?” Tail dogged my heels.
“Or somethin’.”
Luckily Shy hadn’t witnessed my stark raving Mad Max moment. Neither had her folks.