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“No, sorry, darlin’.” Colt ruffled her hair as if she were a cute kid and not the woman he’d been fucking brainless for three weeks. “Wade just needs some help moving the amps over there so they can get set up for their show. Not really a job for you.”
Amps. Figured.
The coyness left Paige’s face in a flash. “Hate to tell you, cowboy, but I can carry a freaking amp. I work in a grain store. I can haul more than you think.” She pushed her cup into his chest and walked away, ass swaying.
Which of course Colt checked out, because he remained an utter horndog along with being an abject dick.
“Way to go, asshole.” Drake shook his head. “First you ignore her all night, then you insult her. You know she’s strong and capable.” He lowered his voice. “Whatever your problem is with me, keep her out of it. She doesn’t deserve your mistreatment.”
“Mistreatment?” Colt looked truly mystified. “I’ve been talking to her all night.”
“Yeah, like a guy you buy your dinner from. Not like your lover. Not like a woman you care about.”
Colt set down her drink and tipped back his own. His throat rippled as he glanced across the crowd. “About that,” he began. “I think maybe we’ve reached the end there.”
Drake shook his head and closed his fingers around the beer he unfortunately wasn’t holding. Getting through this shitstorm of a night dry was going to be harder than he thought. “Be honest. You reached the end the night of the wedding. Since them, you’ve just been marking time.”
Colt stared at him. “You honestly think that I’ve just been jerking you both along for the past few weeks?”
“I think you’d do anything to keep up your façade as the big-time player. You claim that you don’t want to be that anymore, but you revert to type every damn time. So you know what?” Drake pushed past him. “Keep right on playing.”
He headed over to the makeshift stage they’d set up for Wade and his friend to play and grabbed the nearest amp. Colt did the same.
That was pretty much the extent of their conversation.
After the music changed from whatever was on Lorelie’s iPod to their live entertainment of Wade and his former band member, Glen Young, jamming out to a selection of Wade’s songs and cover tunes, Drake wandered over to where Rafe Martinez was brooding into a bottle. Paige had headed off to talk to a bunch of the girls, so he was on his own.
And Rafe looked about as cheery as he felt.
“You’re missing your party hat.”
Rafe glanced up and blinked as if he’d just come out of a deep, dense fog. Then he smirked. “I didn’t know they were required attire.”
“I did. That’s why I didn’t wear one.”
Rafe laughed and motioned to the empty chair beside him. “Have a seat, man.”
“Thanks.” Drake sat down and kicked out his legs. “So Wade’s killing it up there, huh?”
“He is. He always had a way with that thing.”
“That thing being his guitar?”
Rafe’s brows drew together. “Sure not referring to any of his other things, since he’s now married to my sister.”
Drake grinned. “How’s that working out for you?”
“Eh. It’s all right. She’s happy. More so than when she was married to—” He broke off and gave Drake the side-eye. “Anyway, she’s happy. All I care about.”
“You can be straight with me. I’m not Colt’s guard dog.”
“Maybe not.” Rafe peeled off the corner of the label of his bottle. “But there are rumors you’re his lover.”
Drake absorbed the body blow and stared up at the little lights that had been hung from the eaves. Was that part of what Colt’s big show was about? Had someone found out something about them? Maybe Colt wasn’t just facing his concerns about people learning about them.
Perhaps it had already occurred.
“You know what rumors are like, right?”
