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“Or is it that women were put here on earth to drive us fucking crazy.” I snort.
“Your funeral, Conley,” Lawson mutters.
Dakota shoots another glare at me and points her finger in my direction, looking ready to pounce at any given second. I cautiously step back though she hasn’t taken one step. She doesn’t have to. The look on her face is enough to remind me why Lawson calls her Wildcat. However, I’m sure that’s for other reasons. But still, right now she looks like a lioness ready to attack. Fuck, she’s scary. “You’re an idiot. One fucking idiot who needs his head examined or to be kicked in the nuts.”
“Told you.” Lawson shrugs. “And now you’ve gone and pissed my woman off.”
I man up and pour the drinks, offering one to Dakota, who ignores it. I take a sip of mine. “And here I thought you loved me. What the hell did I fucking do?”
“You know,” Lawson says, kissing her on the forehead and getting one of the drinks. “I’m going to check to see if anything else is outside. Be nice.”
And he leaves.
“No stamina, that one. Sure you want to marry him?” I cock a brow, watching my best friend leaving me alone with his woman. His very much pissed-off woman.
But she’s not playing. “All kinds of idiot. Men. Every last one of you. That one out there acting all kinds of sweet, and then here you are being an ass.”
“Hey!” Lawson says from the other room. “You love my sweet act. It’s why you’re marrying me, Wildcat.”
Her mouth twitches. “I feel sorry for you.”
“That’s not what you say when I—”
“Lawson!”
“Wildcat.”
Then she turns and pins me in place with that glare of hers.
“I didn’t say a word. That was him. And you. Doing weird sex talk.”
“Don’t try and charm your way out of this one, Leland Conley. If you men had one brain cell between you, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t upset women. In your case, Sarah. My friend. My best friend at that. I have knives and a gun and I’m not afraid to use any of them. Onyou.”
“Me?” I put a hand to my chest. “What the hell did I do? She’s the one that’s got a problem, not me.”
“And you men,” she says like I haven’t spoken, “have short-term memories. Conveniently short-term memories.”
Lawson pops his head in. “Hey, I don’t have a short-term memory.”
“Not you.” She stabs a finger at me. “Him.”
“My memory’s fine.” I scoff.
“Then you’re a fucking asshole, Leland? Is that what you’re saying?”
I put one hand to my temple. “I don’t know what you’re talking about is what I’m saying.”
“Maybe try and think about what happened when you visited Waterman Heights four years ago.”
I frown at Dakota. “I remember it fine. I . . .”
Trailing off, I shut my mouth, then I open it again. What the fuck?
What in the actual fuck?
How does she know about my trip to Waterman Heights four years ago? I didn’t even know her back then.
Thinking back, I remember that visit. I remember the young, early-twenties chick with the baby face, insane appeal, and short black hair. What was her name? Sadie? And . . .
