with a tray of shots and passed them around. He held up his glass.
“To good friends and beautiful women,” Tyler said. We held up our glasses, almost appreciative of his sweet toast. Then he added, “Sucking my dick.” His friends laughed, and we shook our heads, but everyone tossed back the whiskey.
Tyler stood to get another round, and Paige leaned in toward Sugar. “What the hell was that? Why is he acting like a douchebag all of a sudden?”
Sugar glanced at Finley from under his lashes. “Sisters are complicated.”
Tyler sat back down in his seat, carefully lowering the tray to the table.
“What is that one?” Finley asked, touching Tyler’s arm.
Sugar made a face. “Guess it didn’t work.”
Paige turned to me. “Is he being an asshole to run your sister off?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, watching him watch me.
He returned his attention to Finley and turned his wrist, allowing her to examine the arrow just above his elbow. “That would be Taylor’s choice.”
“Your girlfriend?” Finley asked.
Tyler and Zeke laughed.
“No,” Tyler said. “Taylor is my brother.”
“Taylor and Tyler. That’s adorable,” Finley said, keeping her fingers on his arm.
“Apparently there are three more,” I said.
Finley turned her attention to me, wondering how I knew Tyler’s personal business. I pointed to Zeke, and she smiled, continuing to brush Tyler’s arm. “Are we talking five of you?” she asked. “Is that how you learned to fight?”
“Oh,” Tyler said, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “You heard about that.”
“Is it?”
“Mostly.”
“Have you ever fought over a girl?” she asked.
I was beginning to feel sorry for her. Finley was trying so hard to make Sterling and me jealous that she was looking like quite the desperate tourist girl.
“No,” Tyler said. “Never.”
“I don’t believe it. Surely, at least once, more than one of you has been attracted to the same girl?” Finley asked.
Tyler shifted in his seat. “None of us have ever traded blows over something like that. It helps that we’re attracted to completely different types. Most of us, anyway.”
“What is your type? Blonde? Rich? Nympho?” Finley asked, leaning in.
I cringed. “Fin…”
Sterling stood. “I think I’ll call it a night.”
“No,” Finley whined, reaching for him. “Don’t be silly. We just got here.”
Sterling tossed a few large bills on the table that would easily cover everyone’s drinks and more, and headed for the door. Finley frowned but followed him.
Tyler watched me for a few seconds, and then leaned in with his elbow on the table. “Are you going, too?”
I lifted my shot and took a gulp, shaking my head. “She’ll be back. He won’t.”
“How do you know?” he asked.
“We’ve been friends for a long time.”
Zeke laughed behind his hand, trying to look everywhere but at me.
I raised an eyebrow. “Something’s funny?”
He cleared his throat, sitting up a bit taller. “Nothin’. You’re just an odd trio. Is he with her? She’s stayin’ with you?” He scratched his five o’clock shadow, waiting for me to answer.
“She’s my sister. Do you guys ever work?” I asked. “All I see is you partying, fucking, and driving around the company car.”
Tyler ordered another round for the table. “It’s a company truck. And yes, we work our asses off. It’s just been slow. We work for the city in off-season.”
Sugar raised his glass to Tyler. “Indeed we do. Saved this town more than once.”
I held my glass high. “To fighting fires or whatever!”
“Fight fires or whatever?” Tyler said, sounding offended.
I laughed once. “Oh, please. You chose the job. It’s not like everyone is obligated to worship you for it.”
“Wow, okay,” Tyler said, standing. He gripped the back of his chair, the muscles in his forearm tensing below the hem of his Henley sleeve. He adjusted the worn, braided leather bracelets on his right wrist, his nails uneven and his knuckles thick from him cracking them like he’d done twice since Paige had led us to their table. I wanted those fingers inside me, his forearm tensing while he gripped my hips. I wanted something that hadn’t occurred to me before—a repeat.
“Easy, Maddox,” Zeke said. “She’s not wrong.”
“Oh, she’s wrong. She’s all kinds of wrong.”
I winked at Zeke. “What are you doing after this?”
Zeke looked around and then pointed to his chest. “Me?”
“Yes. The flannel shirt is doing it for me. I’m loving the lumbersexual thing you’ve got going on.”
Zeke chuckled, and then held his fist up to his mouth, choking on his own spit when he realized I was serious.
Tyler’s chair fell forward, propped against the table when he shoved it away from him before walking to the