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“Since I have lost time to make up for on the brotherly score, you might want to know the ’rents are on the warpath. Since they’re gearing up for retirement, once they have more free time their concerns about your lack of a social life are gonna
take precedence. Big-time.”
“I have a social life,” Cory muttered.
Dillon ground the heel of his hand against his suddenly throbbing left eye. Suddenly the place felt like the inside of a toaster oven. “Your right hand doesn’t count.”
Ignoring him, Cory looked down at the tool belt Dillon had tossed on the stool between them. “What the hell’s this?” He withdrew a purple item from one of the pockets and held it up to the light.
Dillon blinked. What looked like tiny butterfly wings extended from the middle of the cylinder, and the rest of the shaft had ridges like a potato chip. He frowned. Or like a—
“Nice vibe.” Bobby the bartender smirked as he circled his rag over the bar. “Big plans?”
Cory dropped the vibrator as if he’d learned it was a live nuclear reactor. “That’s not mine.”
Bobby nodded understandingly. “His?” he asked, jerking his chin at Dillon, who’d snatched up the toy and already put it away. Well, back in his tool belt. His brother touching Alexa’s…pleasure tools seemed way wrong. At least he assumed it was hers. Who else’s could it be?
“Never leave home without it,” Dillon said somberly.
Once Bobby gave them the thumbs-up sign and moved on, Cory leaned closer. “She’s plying you with sex toys?”
“She was,” he said, unable to elaborate. Even thinking about what had happened at Divine made him want to rip the bar out of the wall. He’d done this. Not Cory. His stupid ideas and schemes had landed his ass in this very spot, and damn if it didn’t hurt.
More than anything ever had.
“Lucky bastard. By the way, just so you know—the Taste of Froot thing’s not happening.”
“No?” Dillon couldn’t claim to be displeased. Maybe now Cory would find other kittens to kick than Divine. Though he’d never think of Alexa as a kitten. She was too strong and independent. Too utterly capable of taking care of herself.
And how, judging from the accoutrements he’d just discovered.
“Too bad,” Dillon added when Cory didn’t respond.
“Victoria’s ecstatic. She doesn’t want me anywhere near her sister.” Cory’s scowl deepened. “A fact she’s made no effort to hide.”
“’Cause she wants to do you herself.” Dillon saluted Cory with his beer when he cast sharp eyes in Dillon’s direction. “It’s plain as fucking day, man.”
“You’re nuts.”
“You never use yours. Otherwise you’d see what’s in front of you. She’s hot.”
One eyebrow poised to leap off Cory’s forehead. “Victoria?”
“You don’t find her even a little attractive?”
The blue spread into a faint purple tinge at Cory’s hairline. “Well, of course, she’s attractive.” His eyes glazed like a sheet of ice. “But hot? No.”
Dillon grinned. Yep. Doth man protest way too much, even with doth beer.
“You’re having too much sex. It’s clouding your judgment.”
Not anymore. “Is there such a thing?” Dillon shouted over the sudden uptick in the music.
“Sex? It’s been over a year for me.” Cory lifted his voice. “Over a year.”
The music cut out again just as Cory made his declaration. The words echoed across the bar, as if he’d shouted them. Judging from the ringing in Dillon’s ear, he had.
The music shuddered back on with a screech and a pulse of sound. Dillon shook his head. “‘Splains a lot, if you ask me.”
