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“Is it weird that I’m not embarrassed about being busted making out with you twice in one day?”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
I glance at him, noting the annoyance replaced with amusement. “You a fan of PDA?”
“That depends. Never was my thing until the first time your lips touched mine. Now I’m hooked.”
“I can’t believe you brought me here to recreate…” I trail off.
“Erasing bad memories, baby. “
“You really are awesome.”
“You’ll get used to it.” He laces his finger with mine. “You still feel sick?”
“Miraculous recovery.”
“Full of shit.” He kisses the tip of my nose before leading us back to the area reserved for the guys.
Jewls greets me sweetly, her smile infectious, serving me what looks like a martini. Her smile dies when she glances at Ford. “You took your life in your own hands today.”
He shrugs unapologetically, flashing her a mega-watt grin.
“What did you do?”
“He stole my secret stash of Twizzlers!” she screeches.
“You didn’t.” I pretend to be horrified.
“They’re not good for the babies.”
Her face reddens and eyes narrow, shooting daggers at him. “I don’t have gestational diabetes!”
“Yet,” he deadpans. “Keep eating licorice, and who knows?”
This totally explains why he tasted like strawberries earlier.
There’s a low gurgle in her throat and she storms away. Harley appears, passing a beer to Ford. “You shouldn’t antagonize her. She’s sensitive these days.”
“I am not sensitive! I’m pissed!” Jewls screams from the end of the bar, a few customers shrinking away.
“Who upset the baby mama?” Talon materializes from out of nowhere, Ace at his side.
Harley serves them, winking at Ace before flitting away.
“How’s it going, Hollywood?” Talon nudges me.
My jaw drops and I glance between him and Ace, my cheeks heating.
“Tom has a big fucking mouth,” Ford grumbles over the rim of his bottle.
“He works with seventy percent women. What’d you expect?” Ace returns, his eyes trained on Harley.
“I’ve never had a nickname.”
The three men gawk at me with blank stares until Ace shoots me a sideways grin. “Black Widow is a little too morbid. Hollywood works.”
“Let’s shorten it to Woody,” Talon suggests.
