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“I beg to differ,” Kavanaugh said, taking his shot. “You were nearly killed today. Take the lady home and remember what it’s like to live.”
“A bullet grazed his arm,” Red said, frowning slightly. “Are we counting that as almost dying?”
“No, we’re not counting it,” I said irritatedly. “All it did was sour my mood by tearing a hole in my brand new shirt.”
Red shook his head at that. “Those fuckers deserve to die for that alone. How would they like it if we went and tore their shirts?”
“Well, we did kill them, so I would imagine they’d prefer a torn shirt,” I answered.
I turned to Kavanaugh to tell him once again to back off my personal life, but he wasn’t there. I spun around, looking to find who his latest conquest was. “Where’d he go?”
Red nudged me, then jerked his head in the direction of the brunette/blue-haired woman at the end of the bar. I rolled my eyes, groaning to the heavens. If he was trying to set me up, I was going to kill him. Then he started walking my way with the woman in tow.
A huge grin split his lips as he walked toward me, guiding the woman by her elbow. “Lori,”he emphasized as if to tell me that she had a completely normal name and that I should give her a chance because of that. “This is Eli, the guy I was telling you about.”
Now I was worried about exactly what he told her. “Look, I’m sure my teammate is well-meaning, but whatever he told you is complete bullshit. I didn’t almost die today. I don’t need to get laid, and I most definitely don’t need help meeting women.”
Her lips twitched in amusement as she stared at me. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t almost die. I really don’t need to know about the last time you had sex. And I’m glad you can meet women on your own.”
I glanced at Kavanaugh, watching as he swallowed his laughter behind his hand. That fucker set me up. “And just what exactly did he tell you about me?”
“He said that you’re from Chicago. I grew up in the suburbs. I was actually just heading back there. I just stopped for a drink before the flight.”
That fucker set me up. I nodded to her, not knowing what else to say. I had really stuck my foot in it, but in my defense, what was I supposed to think? “Well…I hope you have a safe flight.”
“You too.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve always wanted to go to that big skyscraper…”
“Willis Tower,” Lori answered Kavanaugh.
“And the blue hair was a prank her friends played on her after she got drunk when her boyfriend of five years cheated on her.” Kavanaugh grinned.
“I’m still trying to grow it out,” she smirked. “But I’m getting used to it.”
Well, damn. She seemed perfectly normal. There was something wrong with this situation, though. There was no way she was normal, not if she was talking to Kavanaugh.
“Red, how about a game of darts?” Kavanaugh asked, leaving me alone with Lori.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
I wanted to grab his arm and keep him from abandoning me, but the fucker chuckled and walked away. It wasn’t that Lori wasn’t nice, but I didn’t like the idea of being set up, and I liked even less that I was now forced to spend time with her because someone else deemed her an appropriate love interest for the night.
“Your friend is kind of crazy,” she grinned, turning to the bar.
“Yeah, sorry about that. He thinks I need to get laid,” I said, chastising myself as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
“And do you?” she asked, not bothering to look at me as she flagged down the bartender again.
“No. Well, that’s not completely true. You can’t really have too much sex.”
“I don’t know,” she said, nodding to the man as he slid her a drink. “Is it too much sex if you can’t walk properly for a few days after a weekend of fucking?”
She turned to me and sipped her drink in this sexy way that made her eyelashes flutter over her eyes, giving her a dangerous look. Fuck, now I was getting hard in the middle of a bar. I shifted slightly, and she didn’t miss the movement. Her eyes flicked to my dick, which didn’t help the situation at all. I was going to need a drink.
“Bartender!”
Her lilting laugh had my whole body stiffening in warning. A woman that sent shivers down my spine was not a good thing. It was a warning system my body had developed over the years. To women, shivers were a good thing. To me, it was like a flashing light blinking overhead, telling me I was about to hit DEFCON 1. Others called it your body’s warning system, letting you know shit was about to get bad. I called it the pucker factor—like when you clench your ass and prepare for whatever shit storm was headed your way.
