Nice?

She thought that kiss was nice?

Nice was for thoughtful gestures, like a card or flowers on special occasions. Nice was holding open the door for someone going into a building.

Nice shouldn’t describe the electric kiss they’d shared.

Argh.

Dale stomped down the stairs and emerged on the sidewalk, his gaze immediately drawn by the truck belonging to Brenda.

Talk about a surprise. When he’d arrived at the Peabodys’ place—dropped off by Sebastian on his way to work because of a phone call from Pete telling him to get his ass over there—he’d done a double take.

Who expected a kitten-sized woman to drive a monster truck?

Big all over, even the wheels, and painted a bright electric blue emblazoned with flames along the side, her Dodge diesel-guzzling truck with twenty-two-inch chrome wheels didn’t just rumble when you started its three-hundred-and-fifty-nine-cubic-inch engine. It fucking growled.

Growled loud enough to give any man worth his salt a boner. It was a man’s truck.

Cute little blondes were supposed to drive Smart cars or practical hybrids, and yet…the fucking thing suited her.

A gray sedan, four-door and practical, which, of course, belonged to Mike, was parked behind the truck.

His buddy got out and whistled. “Damn. That’s a fine set of wheels.”

“Drives like a dream, too.”

“How would you know?” Mike asked, turning to face him.

“Because it belongs to Brenda.” Just like Brenda should belong to him.

Not Mike.

Mike, who’d kissed her first, even though he didn’t like her.

Mike, who’d touched her first, trying to steal her from Dale.

Crack. Dale’s fist hit his friend in the face before he even knew he’d thrown the punch.

Reeling back, Mike rubbed his jaw. His glare almost burnt Dale to a crisp. “What the fuck was that for?”

“Making out with Brenda. I thought we all agreed”—not exactly willingly—“that the girl was off-limits.”

“We didn’t agree. Pete said Brenda was off-limits on account he’s shagging the best friend.”

“And you thought what? Fuck Pete? Fuck our promise?” Dale yelled.

“Don’t shout at me. The kiss wasn’t my fault. She was the one who threw herself on me.”

“And did you shove her off?” Dale arched a brow.

A ruddy color filled Mike’s cheeks. “Not exactly.”

“Not only did you not shove her off, you also fingered her.”

“How did you…” Mike’s words trailed off as he found his balls and scowled. “It’s none of your fucking business what we did.”

“I’m making it my fucking business.”

“How did you find out?”

“She told me.”

Mike bristled. “Which begs the question, what the fuck were you doing with her?”

“Pete asked me for a favor. Seems Brenda decided to go off and do something dangerous on her own. I had to rescue her.”

“That woman is a menace to society.”

“That woman needs a keeper,” Dale said with a snort. A keeper like me. “I found her outside the Peabodys’ place.”

“Peabodys’?” Mike’s voice pitched. “Is she fucking stupid? After what happened with the husband this morning?”

“The woman has no sense of self-preservation.” Dale shrugged. “Even though she was poisoned by Peabody’s wife, she won’t back off.”

“How do you know she was poisoned?”

“She puked on me.”

At that, Mike smirked. “I guess that explains the T-shirt.”

Dale didn’t have to look down to know what it said. Save a Lollipop. Eat a Dick. A sentiment he couldn’t disagree with. At least he’d managed to wash and dry his pants while she napped. As to the underwear he might have handled while doing laundry…he’d succeeded in not sniffing it.

“Let’s focus less on my clothing and more on the fact that Peabody’s wife felt a need to poison Brenda.”

“The same wife nobody’s talked to since the day after the fire?” Mike arched a brow.

“The same.”

“I thought the house was empty.”

Dale shrugged. “So did I.” Random knocks and patrols hadn’t yielded any signs of life.

“If she’s been home this entire time, then why would she answer for Brenda and not us?”

“Fuck if I know, but given the wife tried to poison her and what happened with Peabody, I’m thinking maybe I should keep an eye on her.”

At that suggestion, Mike stiffened. “Maybe I should be the one to do that.”

“Because she made out with you?”

A smug look crossed Mike’s face. “Not my fault she found me irresistible.”

“So compelling she called your make-out session ‘nice.’”

“Nice?” Mike frowned. “Maybe you misunderstood.”

“Nope.” Dale hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. “She most definitely said your moment together was nice.”

A familiar scowl took the grin’s place. “I’ll show her nice. What’s her apartment number?”

“None of your business. I said I’d handle her.”

“Why would…” Mike’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, you still have a thing for her.”

“So what if I do?”

“The what part is the fact that you just gave me shit for not staying away and keeping my hands to myself.”

“That was before. Things have changed.”

“Damned right they have. She kissed me.” Mike jabbed his chest. “Which means she chose me, so I should get to guard her.”

“Don’t feel so special, bro. She kissed me, too.” A kiss he’d started, but she certainly didn’t stop it.

“Was this kiss before or after you found out about the one we shared?”

“After.”

“Why, you dirty bastard, you couldn’t stand that she chose me.”

No, he couldn’t. The jealousy was strong in Dale. And for the first time in his life, he’d not followed the bro code, the one that said, “don’t touch.”

Because he couldn’t resist.

Couldn’t resist her.

“She’s mine,” Mike snarled.

“Are you sure about that?” Dale retorted.

“I’ll show you sure.”

Mike lost his cool and dove on Dale. The pair of them exchanging punches, hard smacks as they fought to deal with the first true test of their friendship.

A relationship strained by a woman.

But this woman was special.

So special Dale didn’t want to lose, and neither did Mike, apparently, so they brawled in the street until a certain familiar voice hollered from a window. “Scratch the paint on my truck, and I will rip off your balls and feed them to the lions at the zoo.”

The window slammed shut, hiding Brenda from sight, but it did its job. The fizzle had left the fight.

Dale stared at a glowering Mike. “Truce?”

Mike eyed the hand Dale held out. “I’m not giving up.”

“Neither am I. But I also don’t want to fight you.”

A sigh heaved out of Mike. “Me either. But where do we go from here?”

Where indeed.

I want her. Mike wants her.

“I guess we’re both going to chase her until she chooses one.” Dale smiled. “May the best wolf”—me!—“win.”