“Twenty-five bucks.”
Cade pulled his wallet out of his jeans and counted out the fifty in crisp notes, plus another ten for two of the foil-wrapped burritos. While the barman rang up the sale, he turned around to watch Marlow with the rest of his team around the pool table.
“Take a shot,” the tall, solidly built woman with two stubby, incongruous ponytails coaxed as she rolled the white ball over the faded baize. It bounced off the cushion, and Marlow grabbed it before it could roll back. “Best out of three.”
“Another time,” Marlow said. He lifted his hand off the ball. “I’ve got other things to do.”
As he walked away, a big blond man—heavy shouldered and thick through the chest—leaned on his cue.
“What?” he jeered after Marlow. “You’d rather hang out with some wolf than us? Chasing tail now, Kitty-boy?”
Anger flashed through Cade at the slur. It tightened in the back of his throat, the old, hot knot of being judged not good enough. He took a step forward.
“Don’t,” the bartender warned gruffly. “I don’t allow trouble in here.”
Cade turned to glare at him. “Or what? I could buy this place with my pocket change.”
“Do it,” the bartender said, unflappable as he set the Grey Goose, two shot glasses, and sweaty foil-wrapped rolls down on the table. “I’ve been thinking about retiring. Be nice to have a nest egg. Marlow can take care of himself.”
That was self-evident. Cade’s temper had flared because of his own tender pride, not because he thought Marlow needed him. He supposed that wasn’t an explanation that reflected well on him, though.
“I don’t like assholes,” he said.
“Who does?” Marlow asked as he slid up next to Cade at the bar. He picked up the bottle to look at the label and raised his eyebrows. “Ah, breaking the bank with the mid-priced stuff?”
“I knew it’d impress you,” Cade said. He took the bottle back and gestured toward the pool table with his chin. “He going to give you trouble if he sees you drinking with a wolf?”
Marlow shrugged. “Franklin? No. He knows better,” he said. “Come on, let’s grab a table, and we can talk. Thanks, Jim.”
The bartender acknowledged that with a grunt; then, he winked at Cade.
“Hey, if that offer still stands tomorrow, have your people call my people.” He chuckled to himself as he headed down the bar to the next customer.
Cade narrowed his eyes and wondered how funny the guy would think he was if Cade did. His people were shit hot.
Not shit hot enough to get him out of it if someone at the Reserve lost a leg, admittedly. If they couldn’t intimidate whatever “people” a dive bar owner had, though, Cade wasn’t paying their retainer again.
He could decide on that later. For now, he grabbed the glasses and the food and followed Marlow over to a booth at the back, next to the jukebox. The table was scarred and stained, but the leather cushions on the benches were polished and clean.
“Franklin spends a lot of time on those Alpha Wolf dating forums,” Marlow said as he sat down. “You know, the ones that say you’re either the wolf or the sheep in a relationship? Only he thinks it works in the workplace too.”
“Does it work anywhere?” Cade asked.
Marlow shrugged as he twisted the top off the bottle. “He was married, but she divorced him. So, breaking even, I guess?”
He poured them both a shot of clear liquor and grabbed one of the burritos to unroll it. The released smell made Cade’s stomach grumble in sudden hunger, and he grabbed his own.
Eggs and peppers spiced with hot onion and carrot. Cade’d been hungry too many times as a kid to let food go to waste, even if breakfast burritos weren’t exactly date food.
“Piper was a good guy,” Marlow said as he took a bite of the burrito. He chewed and swallowed before he went on. “Nothing was ever too much trouble, you know? He’d help you move, pick you up if you were too pissed to drive, or hide the occasional body.”
Cade raised his eyebrows. He’d been confident he could find the information eventually—if Lem couldn’t find it online, then there was always someone whose tongue could be loosened with cash or the application of pressure—but he’d not expected it to come from Marlow. So he took a bite of his breakfast and chewed while he decided on an answer.
“He was a fixer.”
Marlow took his glasses off and tucked them into his pocket. “Sort of. I guess.”
“You’ve got gray eyes,” Cade said, as if it was an accusation.
