Sixteen

JENSEN

I’d just finished my Schell beer when my doorbell rang.

Couldn’t be Coach Buzzkill since she always knocked.

Maybe she wants to apologize for all but hiding out after that kiss . . . four days ago.

Right. I might as well imagine she’s offering that apology on her knees.

“It’s open.”

My cousins Ash and Nolan strolled in.

“Hey, cuz,” Nolan said. “Surprise.”

“Hope you don’t mind us dropping by,” Ash said. Placing one hand on the edge of the couch, he vaulted over the side, landing ass first on the cushion directly across from mine.

“By all means, make yourself at home,” I said.

Ash gestured to my bottle of beer. “See if Jens has any more of those before you join us in the 1970s pit couch.”

Nolan said, “On it,” and disappeared into my kitchen.

I looked at Ash. “So you were what? In the neighborhood?”

“I doubt either of us would venture into this neighborhood without a specific reason.” He smirked. “Or a loaded firearm.”

“Ha ha. Asshole.”

“We haven’t hung out in a while. So thanks for keeping us on the permanent visitors list so we can just ‘drop by’ your humble abode whenever we want.”

“I knew that gesture of goodwill and family solidarity after I bought this property would come back to bite me in the ass,” I muttered.

Nolan returned with three bottles of Schell. After he handed us each one, he threw himself into the corner of the couch. “Seriously, Jens, you could have an orgy in this thing.”

“You say that every time you’re over here.”

He shrugged. “My mind gets stuck on one track.”

“Never have him house-sit,” Ash deadpanned.

“No kidding. So you showed up to drink beer? Get your sorry asses kicked at Grand Theft Auto?”

Ash and Nolan exchanged a shocked look.

“What?”

“He doesn’t know?” Nolan said.

“Apparently not,” Ash replied.

“Know what?” I demanded.

“That when you turn thirty, your right to play video games is revoked,” Ash said.

“It’s the universe’s way of telling you it’s time to move on and do something productive with your free time,” Nolan added. “Since both Ash and I have passed the three-oh mark, we’re banned for life.”

I sipped my fresh beer. “There’s nothing wrong with gaming.”

“Name one person who spends his leisure time with his ass glued to the couch and a joystick in his hand that maintains a successful, fulfilling life.”

“Axl.”

“Is under thirty.”

Shit. “The guys on The Big Bang Theory are all rocket scientists, astrophysicists and engineers, and they’re big-time gamers,” I pointed out smugly.

“Dude. Those are fictional characters. I guarantee if you ran across a guy like Sheldon Cooper in real life you’d beat the fuck out of him,” Nolan said.

Yeah, I could see that.

“Besides, we’re pregaming here with one beer,” Ash said. He spared my sweaty workout shorts and tank top a quick look. “Then we’re going out.”

Don’t groan and whine that you just got home.

“Hit the shower and dress casual—in anything besides athletic clothes with a Vikings logo,” Nolan advised.

Nolan had a hard-on for fashion in a totally hetero way. He was a Lund Industries executive and his daily uniform was a suit, so his idea of “dress casual” differed from mine. Even slouched on my sofa he maintained an aura of cool sophistication. He wore dark denim and a slim-cut, pale blue shirt with a subtle stripe; the cuffs had a contrasting checked pattern in red. His loafers were funky-unique without being eye-rollingly weird. His style was on trend but not like he was trying too hard to be hip. Or worse, dressing like a hipster, attempting to convince others a stupid fashion statement looked cool.

My feeling of fashion inferiority arose. I’d never developed a sense of style, mostly because I hadn’t needed to. I spent eighty percent of my time in workout gear or in uniform. I’d hired Brady’s tailor to craft custom suits for me—a guy my size couldn’t just buy off the rack—but my closet sorely lacked clothing for casual social occasions such as this.

“Stop staring at him,” Ash said to me. “Nolan is already full of himself.”

My gaze moved to Ash. As COO at Lund Industries, Ash also lived the suit-and-tie existence. His off-the-clock style was preppy outdoorsman. In terms of cars, I thought of Nolan as sleek and showy like a Ferrari. And Ash—understated power, a workhorse in stealth mode like a Viper.

“It takes less effort than you think to look this good. One session with my personal shopper will change your life, Jens. Trust me on this.”

Maybe the time had come. It wouldn’t kill me to care about my appearance. Since Nolan had repeatedly offered to help me create a polished—more grown-up—look, I’d be an idiot to say no.

I toasted him with my beer bottle. “You know what? I’m in. Set up something this week.”

Nolan’s jaw might’ve hit his knee.

Ash laughed. “I didn’t see that one coming. Apparently, neither did Nolan.”

“Fuck off, Ash. Give me a moment to bask.” Nolan leaned in. “You’re not screwing with me?”

“No. I look like a bum most of the time. I don’t know what kind of clothes I like because I’ve never thought about it. Annika’s always helped me, but it’s weird to ask her now that she’s married.” I shrugged. “Hiring a professional to help me is the smartest option. Especially if you trust him.”

A moment of silence passed. Both my older cousins assessed me.

Finally Ash said, “Who’s the woman?”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“Gotta be a woman you’re trying to impress if you’re willing to deal with Jacques, the personal shopper from hell.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s not for a woman.” Not entirely.

“Why now?”

“I’ll be in the spotlight for the first time in over a year during training camp with interviews. I should take that part of the job seriously and look professional.”

“Speaking of jobs . . . why didn’t you ask either one of us for help at this LCCO summer camp?” Ash said.

“You even asked my jock brother—who’s never progressed from drawing hockey stick figures—to lend a hand,” Nolan said.

“Whoa. I didn’t ask Jax. When he registered Mimi on Monday and saw Lucy, he informed me that he was sticking around. Last thing I need is him harassing her, so I told him the only way he could be on the premises was if he joined the staff as the janitor.”

Nolan laughed. “Bet that went over well.” He paused. “But I don’t see you sporting a black eye for the suggestion.”

“That’s because Jaxson ‘Stonewall’ Lund is the custodial engineer and number-one gopher—a little U of M humor there—for Camp Step-Up.”

“Get out.”

“It was his only option. I won’t roll over for a fucking hockey player,” I sneered, “even if he is my cousin. My LCCO project, my rules.”

Silence.

Then Nolan pointed at the sliding glass door. “Is everyone hiding out there getting this on video?”

I looked at Ash and he shrugged. “What are you talking about, Nolan?”

“I’m being pranked, right? That’s the only explanation for the bizarre things that have transpired in the last ten minutes.”

“No prank. After I meet with your shopper I’ll give you competition for the most stylishly dressed Lund. As far as Jax . . . fun fact. He wields a mop as well as a hockey stick.” I smirked. “I dropped a urinal cake on the floor just to see if he’d take the shot.”

Ash burst out laughing in a way I hadn’t heard in a long time. “This is gonna be some fun tonight.”

“You guys haven’t told me where we’re going.” Nolan and Ash exchanged another look. I hated that secretive shit. “No strip clubs.”

“It’s not a strip club. It’s a pub.”

“No, it’s a sports bar,” Nolan said.

“Name a sports bar that has karaoke,” Ash demanded.

“Guys. No offense, but no matter what you call it, it doesn’t sound like a place I wanna go.”

“Tough shit. We’re going there because we own it.”

After a beat of silence, I laughed. “Am I being pranked now?”

Nolan shook his head. “Short version. During Jax’s drinking days, he invested in a bar with one of his puck bunnies. After he sobered up, he realized running a bar was no longer a retirement option. The partnership contract is a mess. But the bottom line is he can’t sell his half. His partner can’t sell hers. They’re stuck, so Ash and I are acting partners on Jax’s behalf. We’re trying to establish a decent working relationship with Simone, the partner. There is potential to turn the bar into something unique and profitable; we just don’t know what that is yet.”

“This puck bunny . . . ?”

“Is no dumb bunny,” Nolan said. “She’s been running the bar as is, and it’s her sole source of income. She sank all of her retirement funds into it. We’ve had the Lund legal team look into the contract and it’s nothing like they’ve ever seen. She was just as much a victim as Jax.”

“What’s this Simone chick like?”

“A ball-buster who carries a grudge against athletes.”

Great.

“Get moving, we wanna show off our soon-to-be hippest bar in the Cities.”

“Do we drink free since you own it?”

Ash snorted. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“While you’re showering, I’m going through your closet,” Nolan said. “You will wear the clothing I lay out for you.”

I stood. Best not to argue. But I sure as hell was scoring at least one free drink for my trouble tonight.

•   •   •

I emerged from my bedroom fifteen minutes later.

Both Ash and Nolan stared at me.

Then Ash peeled a fifty from his money clip and handed it over to Nolan.

“What was that about?”

“Ash is pissy because I nailed your style—Men’s Health meets Abercrombie—on the first try. He said you’d ignore my suggestion and wear a hoodie and jeans.”

“Like The Rocket needed more fuel. Jesus, Nolan, he looks a million times better. You’ve created a monster.”

I’d been skeptical of the “look” Nolan had put together for me. My navy suit pants with the subtle gray stripe, which had a slimmer cut—but nowhere near skinny jean territory because I’d never found a pair that’d fit over my thighs. Without the matching suit jacket, the pants could pass for jeans. Nolan had picked one of my shiny, skintight sleeveless workout shirts in electric blue. The bottom hung long enough to cover the waistband so I could skip the belt. I hated having my arms exposed, so I’d been relieved to slip on a collarless warm-up jacket in light gray cotton—more fashion than function since it didn’t have pockets or a hood—but it looked dressier than it was paired with the pants. I’d ditched the tasseled loafers Nolan had chosen in favor of my Sperry Top-Sider boots.

The result of all this fussing? I did look damn good. Most importantly, I looked like me, not like I was trying to fit into someone else’s skin—and clothes.

“Thanks for rearranging the packaging,” I said to Nolan. “I’ll grab a hat and we can go.”

“No hat, Jens.”

I faced him. “I have to wear a hat.”

“It’s a habit,” Nolan argued. “A hat doesn’t mask you as well as you think it does, especially if it’s sporting a football team’s logo.”

“Since my injury I only wear team gear when I’m required to. But I always wear a hat in public. Always.”

“When was the last time you were recognized?”

“Wednesday. I ran to the convenience store by the school to grab a package of Oreos for snack time and some chick snapped a pic of me. Later the Twitter caption said, ‘The Rocket can put his hand—or his whole face—in my cookie jar anytime he wants.’” I paused. “Oh, and I was recognized . . . because I wasn’t wearing a hat.”

“Give it up, Nolan,” Ash said. “We’ve been out with him enough times to know when he gets recognized, he gets mobbed and it’s not fun.”

Three knocks sounded on my door. My gaze winged from Ash to Nolan. “Did you invite Brady and Walker?”

“Uh. No.”

I opened the door.

Rowan stood on the other side.

Not the Rowan I saw every day. This Rowan wore a dress that exposed her long neck, smooth shoulders and a great deal of great cleavage. This Rowan was taller in the leopard-print stilettos. This Rowan had softly curled hair, bright red lips and some smoky-colored stuff on her eyelids that hinted those hazel eyes held all kinds of dirty secrets.

I’d been so busy eyeballing her that I hadn’t noticed she’d been doing the same thing to me.

At the time I said, “What the hell, Coach?” Rowan said, “Damn, Lund.”

Nolan said, “Who’s at the door?” before he barged in next to me.

I watched him leer at her—the fucking pervert. Starting at the tips of her red toenails in those sexy-ass shoes, up her shins, pausing to gawk at her muscular thighs where the hem of the black dress ended. Then up over her curvy hips, briefly taking in the nipped-in shape of her waist, lingering way-too-fucking-long on those sweet tits, to finally rest on the breathtaking beauty of her face.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured in that seductive tone. “Hey. I know you. You cheer for the Vikings.”

Jesus, really? Even Nolan had noticed Rowan?

Not everyone is as blind as you, dude.

Well, the blinders had come off and it was on.

“Actually, you’re the best cheerleader they’ve got,” he continued. Then he elbowed me out of the way—seriously, he elbowed me out of my own damn doorway to get to her—and offered his hand and a charming smile. “Nolan Lund.”

“My much older cousin,” I inserted, and gave him a little shove out of the way. Okay, maybe not such a little shove because he had to catch himself on the wall.

But I only had eyes for her.

With my hands gripping the inside of the doorframe so I wouldn’t get all grabby-handed with her, I said, “You.”

“Uh. What about me?”

“You’re so smokin’ hot you’ve shorted out the logic center of my brain.” Letting my arms bear my forward weight, I leaned close enough to her to take a bite out of that full lower lip. “That pretty, perfect red mouth of yours. Christ. It’s like a beacon luring me in.”

She cocked her head. “How many shots of tequila have you had?”

“None.” I grinned at her. “Seeing you is a shot of pure sexual adrenaline, baby.”

“Jens, man, give it a rest.” Nolan yanked me backward—the dude was way stronger than he looked. “Forgive my cousin’s manners, he plays with his balls for a living.” Nolan stepped into the hallway. “I didn’t catch your name, Red Hot.”

“It’s Rowan Michaels.”

Just then Ash sidestepped me. “Rowan!” He whistled. “Been a long time, but, doll face, you look as spectacular as ever.”

Of course freakin’ Ash knew Rowan too.

“Thanks, Ash. Good to see you again.” Her gaze zipped between the three of us. “Lotta Lunds in one place.”

“We’re on our way out.” Ash smiled at her. “But there’s always room for a gorgeous lady.” He accorded her hot, sexy body an appreciative once-over. “Come out with us. Unless you already had plans.”

Rowan regarded me for a moment. “Actually, it appears my plans fell through. My son is having an overnight at a friend’s house and I’m—”

“In luck because you’re coming out with us,” Nolan said.

“Where are you going?”

“A bar downtown,” I said. “So if it’s not your thing—”

“Maybe it is my thing,” she retorted. “Give me a minute to grab my phone and my purse and I’ll be right back.”

As soon as her apartment door closed, I had Nolan crowded against the wall. “Rowan is off-fucking-limits. You touch her? You’ll need your tailor to sew pieces of your body back together, not just your suit. Feel me?”

“Et tu, Jensen?” Nolan sighed. “Fine. I get it.”

“Mr. Men’s-Health-meets-Abercrombie off the radar leaves more ladies for us, Nolan.”

“True.” To me, he said, “Go grab the hat you insist on wearing. And your keys. Rowan can ride with me. Ash can copilot for you.”

I didn’t want Rowan riding with Nolan.

Nolan got in my face. “I’d never poach.”

“I know that. It’s just . . . this is new, all right? I don’t know what I’m doing with her.”

“It appears whatever you’re doing is working. Red Hot couldn’t keep her eyes off you.” He sighed. “And it pains me to say this, but I don’t think it has a damn thing to do with how much better you’re dressed tonight.”

•   •   •

Just to be a smart-ass I grabbed an Abercrombie ball cap I’d never worn.

The bar was located in the Mill District in a cool three-story brick building, sandwiched between two other brick buildings. The sign above the door to the bar read BORDERLINE in vintage pink neon. Before we went in, I snagged Ash by the arm. “If you decide to renovate, call Walker. This is his dream project.”

“Already on our radar,” he said.

On the way to the bar, Ash hadn’t tried to give me advice about Rowan, which I appreciated. If my siblings had seen the interaction between Rowan and me, I’d get an earful.

My thoughts scrolled back to the conversation with Dallas when she’d mentioned her concern about Ash. Maybe he put up a great front, but he didn’t act miserable. In fact, he seemed more relaxed than usual.

He caught me staring at him. His eyes narrowed. “What’d she say to you?”

Maybe he’d inherited the same sensory perception as Dallas. “She indicated you’d been living a ‘joyless existence,’ which seemed a harsh assessment, but I didn’t push her for details. I figured if you wanted us to know, you’d tell us.” I pinned him with a hard look. “Right? No one has to be an island in this family. Thought we established that after everything went down with Jaxson.”

Ash scrubbed his hands over his face. “We did. And I appreciate the reminder. It’s why Nolan and I showed up at your place tonight. Not to sound like whiny pussies, but we felt out of the loop with this camp thing. Everyone else was involved. That’s also when Nolan and I realized we’d been secretive about this bar to protect Jax. Turns out, Jax doesn’t care. So you’re the first Lund we’ve brought in, so to speak.”

“Cool. I may need a job if this football thing doesn’t pan out this year.”

“If it doesn’t work out, not to go all woo-woo and shit, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Speaking of woo-woo . . . don’t think I didn’t catch—football pun for ya—you deflecting the conversation from your sister’s concerns about your mental well-being.”

“She’s a master at deflection. The girl’s got secrets. Ugly ones.” His jaw tightened. “Ones she should’ve come to me about. Instead, I had to get an earful from a pissed-off Russian. So what Dallas thinks she ‘saw’ in me the past year? Partially true. But she confused unhappiness with controlled rage.”

What the holy hell was going on?

“I can’t get into the details. It’s better that you don’t know”—he flashed his teeth—“from a legal standpoint. The good news? Dallas is . . . well, Dallas again. I don’t have to keep my distance from her now that some time has passed.”

“This has to do with Igor?”

“Igor did what needed to be done. I owe him. I’ve no doubt he’ll be back at some point to collect.” Ash clapped me on the back. “Ain’t ya glad ya asked?”

“Hell no. But I’m not obsessed with digging out secrets like some female Lund family members. I’ll probably forget this entire conversation by tomorrow.” Total lie there. “I figured if I got around to asking about your woe-is-me attitude after we’d knocked back a few beers, that you’d tearfully confess you were still busted up over what’s-her-face.”

“Tearfully. Right.” He snorted. “You mean Olivia?”

I frowned. “Olivia? I thought the ball-buster’s name was . . . Victoria or something?”

Ash laughed. “You’re really in the dark. Veronica—ancient news. Olivia . . .” His humor faded. “Long story and there’s been way too much drama tonight already for me to subject you to more. Let’s get our drink on.”

He opened the door and I followed him in.

The bar carried that musty smell I associated with century-old buildings. We walked up a short ramp, pausing at the top.

I should’ve been checking out the space, but my eyes scanned the bar patrons until I saw Rowan.

The cheeky woman let her eyes scroll over me. From my boots up to the brim of my ball cap, then back down to linger on my mouth before her gaze reconnected with mine. Her smile? Sexy, secretive and a little naughty.

My body reacted instantly. Dick hard. Mind set on the one track of getting her alone and making her mine.

Ash and I snagged the two empty seats at the high-topped bar table. Immediately I scooted mine closer to Rowan’s, leaning in to whisper, “Enjoy it while you can, sweetheart, because we won’t be here long.”

Amusement glinted in her eyes. “I never get to kick back in a dive bar with a table of hot guys. So cool the fire in your jockstrap, Lund. We’ll get there.”

I grinned at her. “I think Nolan got it right in calling you Red Hot.”

“What can I get you to drink?”

My focus moved to the waitress standing between Nolan and Ash. “What’s on tap?”

The woman addressed Nolan. “This is why table signage is a waste of money. Guys like him?” She indicated me with a jerk of her head. “Expect the server to recite the beer list. It doesn’t matter if the beer menu is written in colored chalk in gigantic letters across the enormous blackboard above the bar”—another jerk of her head toward the blackboard she’d described, directly behind her—“they’re in a bar for personal service. That means spending the money properly training the servers to be friendly and knowledgeable.”

Nolan let a smile slowly bloom on his face—the one I called you’re-about-to-get-schooled. “Then we’ll leave the ‘friendly’ aspect of training to someone more qualified than you. Careful about using that black Irish temper on me, Simone.”

Ash made the time-out sign between them. “Don’t start, you two. We’ll take a pitcher of Leinie’s.”

“And a glass of your finest Zinfandel for my lady,” I said, not caring that it had sounded cheesy.

Simone addressed Nolan again. “Balls-for-brains over there does realize that no one at this table is drinking free tonight?”

Balls-for-brains? Yeah, she did have a hate-on for athletes.

Rowan tapped Simone on the arm to get her attention. “Just so we’re clear . . . while I applaud your creativity, tonight it’s my right to level any insults at him about his balls, not yours.”

Silence.

Then Nolan pantomimed a mike drop.

Simone tilted her head at Rowan. “You? I like. Your glass of Zin is on me.” Her gaze encompassed the table. “I’ll start a bar tab for the rest of you assholes.” She sauntered off.

“So . . . now you’ve met Simone,” Ash said dryly.

I said, “Too bad she’s not a silent partner.”

“Good one, JB.”

Rowan frowned. “Do I want to know why you called him JB?”

“Habit when we’re in public and he doesn’t want to be recognized by his distinctive name.” Nolan winked at her. “I’ll let you ask him what the B stands for.”

After Simone dropped off our drinks, the four of us fell into an easy conversation for the next hour.

I took a moment when Rowan was discussing cheerleading athletic scholarships with Ash to soak up the atmosphere. Everything in here was vintage. The long carved bar, the wood floors, the smoke-stained tin ceiling. The two stories of windows and the curved staircase leading to the second floor. There wasn’t a single TV in the joint. Music played in the background, but not at a noticeable level. A great vibe filled the space and I could see why Jax had invested.

Rowan’s hand slid up my thigh, startling me so I nearly spilled my beer.

“Sorry. I just—”

I held her hand in place when she attempted to pull it away. “Never apologize for touching me.”

“I haven’t had a chance to say that you look great tonight.”

“Nolan’s doing. But I am going to make an effort to look less like a college frat boy from here on out.”

“You’re mistaken that any woman would look at you and see a ‘boy.’”

This was what I’d been waiting for. For Rowan to be comfortable enough to show me that the physical aspect of us didn’t scare her. I understood her skittishness. She’d been so loaded down with responsibilities at such a young age that she never had a chance to explore the sexual side of herself. Oh, it was there. I saw it. I wanted it. I couldn’t wait to bear the brunt of all that pent-up sexual energy because I knew how to handle it.

Seeing Nolan and Ash deep in conversation, I set my elbow on the table to give us some privacy. “What were your plans for tonight that fell through?”

“Seducing you.”

I would’ve choked on my tongue if my mouth hadn’t gone dry.

“After I left Calder at Nicolai’s, I stood outside your apartment. I almost knocked to tell you I had a free night. But showing up looking like I normally do didn’t seem special enough.” She glanced away for a moment. “My hesitation with you hasn’t been about you.”

Special enough. Christ, she didn’t have the first clue about how special she was. I angled my head to softly kiss her shoulder. “I get that.”

“So I got dressed up and gave myself a pep talk.” She released a nervous laugh. “I even practiced saying sexy things out loud because I worried I’d go speechless when I saw you naked.”

“You’re killin’ me here.”

“It took three tries before I had the guts to completely cross the hallway.”

I had a sudden panic about how long it would have taken her to find that courage again if I hadn’t been home tonight.

Question now is: Why the hell are you here and not at home, naked with her, proving that her trust in you isn’t misplaced?

I slowly pulled her hand up my thigh until it reached the hardness between my legs. “See what just thinking about you in my bed does to me?”

“Kissing you has the same effect on me.” She dragged an openmouthed kiss from the edge of my jaw to my ear. “So hot it feels like fire dancing across my skin.”

“Rowan—”

“Hey, guys. Chill on the PDA.”

I eased back but didn’t take my eyes off hers. “Fine. We were leaving anyway.”

“Nope. Karaoke starts in ten.”

“Well, have fun with that.”

“JB, I’m holding you to your promise.”

I finally glared at my annoying cousin. “What promise?”

“You skipped karaoke at Axl’s bachelor party. You skipped it at Mimi’s birthday party. You swore—pinky-swore with Dallas and Annika as your witnesses—that the next time we were in a karaoke situation, you’d sing. It’s time.”

“And if I say fuck no?”

Ash dangled my keys over the table—when in the hell had he snagged those from me?—and smirked. “Then you forfeit. I call Uber to haul your loser ass home and I will make sure everyone in the family knows you’re a chickenshit pinky-promise breaker.”

Why was Ash pushing me on this? He didn’t give a damn about karaoke. Was he purposely trying to keep me—

“Got eyes on the prize,” he said casually.

Then it made sense. That was code for we were being watched.

I hated this part of being a public figure. I didn’t bother to ask where the person spying on us was sitting. Ash never lied about this. And he’d never been wrong.

Nolan had bailed to watch the situation, even pulling taps as if he were just tending bar. Both my cousins were recognizable—though like me, not so much in the spotlight the last year—so splitting us up was a good idea.

“Stop glaring at each other,” Rowan said. “If Je—JB doesn’t want to do karaoke, that’s his decision.”

“Karaoke setup is on the second floor,” Ash said. “Private. Simone will see to it.”

“Fine. I’ll do it.” I took out my phone. “Give me time to find a song.”

“Good luck. But you ain’t allowed to sing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’ or ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat.’”

“Dick.”

Ash laughed, left the table and walked out the front door.

Rowan tapped me on the arm. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s a stupid family thing.”

“That’s why you’re ignoring me and scrolling through your Twitter feed, as if that’s where you’ll find the perfect song?”

“I’m taking requests.” I hadn’t seen any tweets about me in the past two hours. Good.

After another minute of no conversation, Rowan said, “How about ‘All by Myself’ because that’s the way your night is looking, JB,” and excused herself to storm off toward the bathroom.

About two minutes after Rowan left, the lone guy I’d spotted up by the window started toward me.

Putting my phone to my ear, I kicked my feet up on Rowan’s chair and stretched out. Then I launched into a conversation in a thick southern accent. So when the guy slunk past me, he heard a bunch of y’alls and me yakking about hiring a livestock transport truck to haul pigs from Kansas City to Tulsa.

Nope, buddy; I’m not a football player trying to be a normal guy out for a few beers with my family and my woman. I’m a good ol’ boy from Texas dreaming of being a pig farmer.

The guy bought it. He left through the front door.

Simone wandered over to the table. “I’m supposed to tell you to head upstairs after your date returns. Your cousins will meet you up there. Then we’ll shut the door like we’re closed for a private party.”

“Thanks, Simone.”

She leveled an evil smile on me. “I already named the price for my cooperation.”

Great. “And that’s what?”

“Warm up those vocal cords because you really are singing a round of karaoke.”

“Humiliating the player is your price?” I said tightly.

She shrugged. “I’d think you’d love the chance to prove you’ve got balls.” Then she sashayed away.

Behind me I heard, “I don’t know if I should be jealous or annoyed about that woman’s obsession with your balls.”