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“Is that why you want me there too? To control Eden?”
“Well, you two once had a thing, correct? You can be my buffer.”
I didn’t bother responding to that. It was none of her damn business.
“Why would I even consider this?” I gritted out through clenched teeth. “Val is my boss. You think I want to get caught up in his shit?”
“You owe me.”
Same three words, only this time my conscience flipped a middle finger and sat the fuck down. Anger took the floor, and it was like slipping into a well-worn pair of socks.
“I don’t owe you shit.”
“You. Owe. Me. Everything.” Her voice dropped to an almost-demonic growl, her lips caressing each word as she punctuated them with dramatic pauses.
God, what the hell was it about this woman that scorched my blood and sent it rushing to parts of me that shouldn’t be reacting to her? Was it my addiction to danger that made me want her? The thrill of the forbidden? Because bad blood or not, Valentin Carrera would skewer my balls if I laid a finger on his sister.
“I’m sorry, princesa.” I winked. “I’m busy tomorrow. I have to see a man about a thing.”
Silence permeated the cantina as we glared at each other. Neither of us spoke as we waited for the other to give in first. The joke was on her. Until my visit with Leo Pinellas tomorrow, I had nowhere to be and nothing to do. I could sit here and play her little pissing match all day.
I gave her intel on Val’s interest in her. That’s as far as I went. If she wanted more, she could walk her happy ass across the border and ask him for it herself.
I smirked.
Adriana scowled.
I leaned against the bar.
Adriana crossed her arms across her chest.
I tapped my fingers on my glass.
Adriana tapped her toe on the tile.
I scanned my eyes down her legs, and the color of her face turned to lava. Just as she opened her mouth, a crash and the sound of shattering glass turned both our heads toward the bar.
Bar bitch stood on her toes with her palms held high in the air, her mouth rounded in a tight “O”. She stared down at the floor, and when I lifted myself over the bar, I saw why. Two bottles of Val’s most prized tequila lay shattered on the floor, the contents now rolling under the anti-slip mat.
“Well don’t just stand there!” I yelled. “Get a mop, for Christ’s sake!”
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, bending down and picking up random pieces of glass, slicing her hands to hell and back.
With a mop in one hand and a towel in the other, I managed to stop the bleeding and prevent this from turning into a major worker’s comp catastrophe. As I put pressure on her wounds, bar bitch looked up at me with hearts in her eyes, and it was all I could do not to fire her on the spot.
By the time I returned to my seat at the bar, Adriana was gone.
Lifting my abandoned glass, I raised it in the air and toasted to small victories. “Better luck next time, princesa.” I drank slowly, savoring my victory. This wasn’t the last I’d seen of Adriana Carrera. She’d be back.
Just as the glass hit my lips, I saw it. A cocktail napkin covered in blood. Slamming the glass back onto the bar, I slid off the seat and snatched it from the puddle of water soaking the edge.
Only, it wasn’t blood. It was red lipstick.
Your thing isn’t that impressive.
And your man is for sale.
Never dip your dick in the same pool twice.
