Page 94 of Heart Over Heels

Beck and Zephyr strode past, arm in arm. Neither slowed as Beck called back, “No you don’t!”

Colt watched them go then muttered, “Shows what he knows.”

“Maybe.” I tried again. “It could be a team-building thing? So everyone can, you know… bond.”

Callum shot his brother a look of hopeful enthusiasm, and while I might have wonhimover, Colt narrowed his eyes.

“You think we don’t bond?” he asked.

“I didn’t say that,” I started, but Callum snatched his brother’s hat and slapped him on the shoulder with it.

“Lay off him, Colt. Itdoessound like fun.”

Colt recovered his Stetson and tugged it on before jerking a thumb toward his twin. “I helped him shave his balls last week. How’s that for bonded?”

The sharp click of high heels cut through the din, and my head turned on instinct. Darby was rounding the stage with a slow strut of an approach.

The man could do no wrong when it came to his wardrobe. Tonight, he’d donned a pair of white satin panties and a top made entirely of strands of pearls. They hung from a halter-style top and swayed across his chest as he sashayed over to us.

I had to clench my jaw to keep it from falling open and letting the drool leak out.

“Everybody knows you two are up each other’s asses,” Darby told Colt. “And you wouldn’t have to shave if you waxed like the rest of us.”

Darby came alongside me and slipped his arm around my waist. The sudden proximity had me sweating and aching anew, and I couldn’t resist placing my hand on the bare small of his back where my thumb brushed the base of his tail.

“Fuck that.” Colt shook his head. “Hot wax and ripping your hair out by the root? That’s the kinda Hell shit we don’t have to put up with anymore.”

Elliot and Oz descended from the stage just in time to overhear the cowboy’s complaint.

Elliot tugged a black hoodie over his head and then looked over, red eyes glinting. “They waxed you in Hell?” he asked. “Which ring was that, exactly?”

Darby’s laugh was bright enough to make even the club lights seem dull. “Beauty is pain, cowpoke,” he told Colt, whose chest swelled with a haughty breath.

“I don’t need beauty; I got grit,” Colt huffed. “Like the Marlboro man. Nothing says sexy like?—”

“Lung cancer?” Darby supplied then peeled away from me to call toward where Oz and Elliot were loitering. “Speaking of… Elliot?”

The pole dancer had just finished flicking a lighter to the tip of the cigarette pinned between his lips. He drew down on it, filling his lungs then expelling smoke in a perfect series of rings.

“Take it out back,” he muttered while helping himself to another drag. “I know. I’m on my way.”

Elliot turned to go, but Darby called after him.

“Actually, wait. I got you something.”

He trotted toward them, and I lost myself for a moment in the movement of his hips and the pearls rolling across his flawless umber skin.

Squeezing in between Oz’s hulking form and Elliot’s shorter, leaner one, Darby fished into the tiny clutch bag he’d been carrying. A brief search yielded a little black box, which he handed over.

“What’s this?” Elliot asked while lifting the lid.

“A vape pen,” Darby replied. “Very trendy. Very cool. And it smells like cotton candy instead of death.” His smile was playful, but the gift was undeniably sincere.

Oz leaned in to peer at the box’s contents. He seemed to approve, but Elliot just frowned.

“Cotton candy?” he asked flatly.

“And Blue Razz and Sticky Bunz.” Darby indicated each flavor in the package, then propped his hands on his hips and preened. “It’s a sampler pack.”