Page 69 of Holden’s Resurrection

“Leigh-Leigh—”

“Did you get the box open?” I rushed to change the subject.

“Yeah. What’s wrong?”

“I told you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Baby, your face is on fire and you look like someone’s been force-feeding you lemons.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. She’s fine, macho man. We’re not torturing her,” Bobby sighed.

Nixon chuckled and Holden’s gaze went to his friend. “They’re totally torturing her. They’re on step one of the initiation process.”

Oh, Lord, there was more?

If step one had me ready to bolt, I wasn’t sure if I’d survive step two.

“What’s that mean?” Holden asked and moved closer to me.

A wide smile formed on Nixon’s face. He hadn’t missed Holden positioning himself—and neither had I. That was a typical Holden maneuver—if he’d even caught a hint someone wasn’t being nice to me, he moved in for the kill.

“Brother, you’re moving in the wrong direction. If I were you, I’d get my ass out of here. When I walked in, Kennedy was asking if you were good in bed. That’s step one.”

“I was not,” Kennedy objected. “I was repeating Bobby’s question. I told her she didn’t have to answer.”

“Nice, throw me under the bus for asking the question everyone wants to know.”

“I don’t want to know,” Micky lied sweetly.

She so wanted to know, too.

“You asked how big his—”

The growl that came from Nix had Bobby snapping her mouth closed, and once again I couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter.

McKenna narrowed her eyes on Bobby. The death stare did nothing to stop the smirk on the other woman’s face.

“I think I should leave,” Holden croaked, and I glanced up at him.

Holy sweet mercy, Holden was blushing.

“Are you…are you…” I couldn’t get the sputtered words out of my mouth to form a complete sentence because I was bent over in laughter.

“Charleigh,” he grunted.

“I can’t…believe…you…are,” I said through my amusement.

“Like I said, we need to beat feet before the scorecards come out. I know one of them has a size chart hidden somewhere.”

Holden’s groan only fueled my mirth but I was sober enough to tell him. “Don’t worry, honey, I have your back.”

“Thanks,” he grumbled.

“Great. Now Holden’s slot will go unfilled,” Bobby groused.

And I was left wondering if there really was a scorecard, and if there was, did I want to see it?

“That might work in Holden’s favor depending on the order of names,” Nixon teased.