Bad Things

Tristan turned in his seat to look at me. “You are not allowed to call me that.”



I shrugged at him, grinning. “How on earth could you stop me?”



He grinned right back. “Trust me, I’ll think of something.”



Of course that only made me curious about what he would do. “Sure thing, Tryst,” I told him.



He shook his head. “Don’t make me get out of my seat.”



“What will you do?”



He thought it over. “Let me try again. It’s obvious threats only encourage you. If you can refrain from calling me that, I will cook you breakfast.”



“I don’t like pancakes,” I warned him.



“I’ll make you anything you want. Consider me your short order cook.”



“Is this offer good for only one breakfast?”



“I’ll make you whatever you want, every morning I stay at the house.”



“Deal,” I told him quickly. After tasting his cookies, I wanted whatever he was cooking. “But I’m very picky. You’ll have your work cut out for you in the morning.”



He just smiled. “I look forward to it. I’m going to blow your mind.”



I crossed my legs, looking away, my mind veering far from the thought of food.



“So you two aren’t….dating?” Kenny asked Tristan, shooting him a glance.



“We’re not, but don’t get any ideas. None of you knuckleheads are allowed to go near her. Spread the word.”



“What sort of caveman reasoning is that?” I piped in, agitated. I certainly had no intention of dating one of his obviously immature friends, but I sure as hell didn’t think he should have a say in it.



He flashed those damned dimples at me, so charming that I wanted to hit him over the head with my purse. “Just looking out for my friend. You’re the relationship type. None of the guys you’re going to meet are. I’m looking to save you a headache down the road.”



“How sweet,” I murmured, wondering what I was getting myself into with this crowd. “We meeting all of these charmers tonight?”



“I don’t know who will be there,” Tristan said, looking at Kenny.



Kenny shrugged. “Who knows? Cory is working the bar, so my guess is there will be a turnout. Not many of our friends will turn down free drinks at one of the hottest clubs in town, but Jared is the only one I know for sure will be there.”



“Nice,” Tristan said, sounding pleased. “Jared is my baby brother. You’ll love him. Everybody does. You have any brothers or sisters?”



A tight fist gripped around my heart at the question. I hadn’t been expecting it, and it was a subject that my mind tended to shy away from. “I have a sister.”



“Older or younger?”



“She’s two years younger than me.”



“She live in town?”



I bit my lip. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her in years.”



“Why the hell not? You have to keep in touch with family.”



If only it were so simple. “She hates me, actually. I couldn’t get her to talk to me if I tried.”



“Why?”



“Because I’m a shitty big sister. Are we done with the interrogation?”



“My bad. I didn’t mean to be nosy.”



“So don’t be. Just drop it.” I felt bitchy, but being a bitch was better than rehashing painful old baggage just to appease his curiosity.



He put his hands in the air to signal that he would stop.



Even agitated, I couldn’t help but study those big, sexy hands.



“Sorry,” he said, sounding sincere. “Sorry. I will drop it. To make up for being so rude, I’ll pick up your tab for the night.”



I gave him a level stare. “You know the bartender. It was already going to be free, wasn’t it?”



Those damned dimples came back in force. Even in the darkness of the car, I could see the twinkle in his golden eyes. “Have I mentioned that I like sassy women? Yes, the tab was going to be covered either way. How about I help you with your chores while I stay at the house? Will that make up for me being so nosy?”



I studied him, knowing that, friends or not, being in close proximity to him for a prolonged period of time would not be good for my peace of mind. Still, I just couldn’t seem to resist. I enjoyed being around him, Trouble or no.



“It will. You’re my chore bitch for the week,” I told him. A happy smile overtook my face as he threw his head back and laughed.



“She owns your ass,” Kenny said, laughing.



Tristan gave me a sideways smile that could only be described as mischievous. “I can think of worse things.”



CHAPTER FOUR



It was mid-summer, and the air felt like a hair dryer as Tristan handed me out of the car.



“You’re kind of a gentleman…for a man-whore,” I told him so only he could hear.



That startled a laugh out of him. “I try,” he told me, not sounding at all offended.



Kenny had valet parked, so we were inside of the Cavendish Casino in a few short steps. Cool air blasted me as we stepped inside, a stark contrast that had my nipples hard as rocks in a heartbeat.



“Brrr,” I said.



That made Tristan steal a glance at my nipples.



I heard the perverted bastard mutter, “Fuck,” as he looked quickly away.



“Pervert,” I said softly.



Of course that made him smile.



He grabbed my hand, pulling me with him as he started to walk at a fast clip across the marble of the grand foyer that led into the casino.



“Slow down,” I snapped at him. “Have a little sympathy for a girl wearing four inch heels.”



He glanced down at my feet, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. On behalf of men everywhere, thank you for wearing sexy fucking shoes. I’ll try to remember not to walk too fast.”



“Thank you for not minding that I can be a pain in the ass,” I told him, thinking how sweet it was that he was so accommodating.



“On the contrary, I love that you tell me what’s on your mind. I’m not good at guessing games, and I find it refreshing that you just tell me what you’re thinking. I hate sulking, Danika, and you’re no sulker. Give me shit, hell, yell and scream at me, just as long as you let me know where we stand.”



I blinked at him, thrown for a loop. “I can do that. I’m actually very good at that.”



“Yes, you are. I love that about you.”



“And I love that you love that about me,” I told him, meaning it. And boy did I. I loved a man that could take a little honesty. My ex had been a whiny bitch who was always protecting his fragile little ego, so my brand of honesty had never been the order of the day. Tristan was a nice change of pace, to say the least.



I took in our fancy surroundings as we strode slowly through the casino portion of the Cavendish property. “Where did Kenny go?” I asked as I noticed that the other man had disappeared.



“Not sure,” he said, looking around. “He’ll meet us at the club, though. It’s not far.”



Decadence, the club, was intimidating. There was a long line to the entrance as we approached. My first thought when I saw a line like that was to head in the other direction.



I slowed, but Tristan just pulled lightly on my hand, heading straight for the front of the line.



The huge, stern-looking bouncer didn’t even check our IDs, just nodded us through the door, no expression on his face.



“You know him?” I asked Tristan.



He nodded, pulling me along.



I found myself quickly distracted. The club was breathtaking. Long couches flanked numerous indoor pools that formed one huge circle, a huge waterfall the center of it all. Nearly every pool had its own bar. It was by far the most impressive club I’d ever seen, but one huge shortcoming stood out to me right away.



“Where’s the dance floor?” I asked him.



He waved at the pools. “This is the lounge, though you can sure as hell dance here if you want.” He pointed at a large arch that led into a darkened room. “That’s the dance floor. And as you can see, there are bars everywhere. We just need to find the one our friend, Cory is working at to get hooked up with free drinks.”



A few bikini clad women frolicked in one of the nearby pools. They were giggling loudly enough to draw attention.



“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” I told him.



He glanced at the pools, looking surprised at the idea. “I didn’t think of it. If you want to swim, I’ll find us some suits. It’s up to you. Let’s get a drink, dance, and then decide.”



“How are you ever going to find a random hookup, if you spend all your time with me?”



He just smiled. “You let me worry about that.”



I hadn’t really been worried about it. Not at all, in fact. There was something about him, and it wasn’t just his size, that seemed to command every room he walked into, even this one. Charisma, I thought.



By the looks women were shooting him, I knew that he wouldn’t have to look hard to find anyone. Hell, showing up with a woman on his arm would probably only make him more appealing to this crowd.



“Am I like your wingman tonight?” I asked, as a particularly bold blonde gave him a thorough once over.



He seemed to like that idea, his smile widening unabashedly. “Wouldn’t that be ironic?”



“Why is that ironic? Because I’m a woman?”



His mouth twisted, and he stopped to study me. “I’m not sure I should answer that. It’s not a…friendly answer.”



“Well, now I have to hear your explanation. What’s that supposed to mean?”



He sighed. “You asked for it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”



He leaned in close, speaking into my ear. We were just outside of the room that held the dance floor, so it wasn’t so loud that I couldn’t have heard him. I thought he was just doing it for dramatic effect. “It’s ironic that I’d use you for my wingman, when I want to fuck you more than any of the women here.”



“Oh,” I said eyes wide on him as he pulled back. “That was sweet, you silver-tongued devil.”



He laughed, and I couldn’t help but join him. Those dimples, and the clear admiration in his eyes, were a potent and irresistible combination, and his shameless flirting didn’t raise any red flags for me. On the contrary, I thought he was too much fun.



“What are we drinking, sweetheart?” he asked, tugging me back the way we’d come.



“Hey! Where are we going? I thought we were going to dance!”



“I just spotted my friend at that bar over there. Time for some free drinks. Lady’s choice.”



“Something with tequila,” I told him.



“Now we’re talking.”



We approached one of the bars near the club’s entrance. A good-looking blond male bartender grinned when he spotted Tristan, holding up his hand in a small wave after he’d handed two martinis off to a man in a suit.



“Hey, Cory,” Tristan said as we drew close. “This is my friend, Danika. Danika, this is my friend, Cory. Tell him what you’d like to drink.”