Page 4 of Tristan’s Temptation

She picked up her beer and took a sip in an attempt to avoid drooling like an idiot and ogling him as he angled into the chair. His thigh rubbed against hers as he settled himself and she jerked in response, sloshing beer on the table. Self-consciously, she cleared her throat and carefully mopped up the spill.

In five years, she’d never been so close to him.

He was so warm.

She couldn’t resist a quick peek at his profile and was stunned to realize he was looking at her. Every muscle in her body froze and caught on fire. His gaze burned through her. God, his eyes were beautiful up close.

But as soon as their gazes met, as soon as he noticed they were tangled in a visual tryst, he frowned and turned away.

Why that sent a shaft of pain through her heart, she had no idea. And she refused to think about it.

Why did he have to be such a dick?

Why, in a social situation, could he not be civil? Make small talk? Smile, perhaps? People did it every day. But not Tristan. There was a firm line between work and private lives that he never crossed. Even here, now, she could tell he was very uncomfortable sitting with his coworkers, drinking beer. She could feel the tension in him, it fairly hummed in an aura around him.

It was damn aggravating.

And it spurred Shannon to mischief.

Deliberately, she let her thigh relax against his. His response was immediate. He tensed up like a tightly coiled spring. His knuckles went white around his glass until she was certain the fragile vessel would shatter under his grip. Thusly encouraged, she tapped her foot, rubbing her leg against his in time to the song as though she were merely enjoying the music. As though she had no cognizance of the heat searing into her at the spot their bodies intersected.

His muscles bunched. He stood and tossing her a dark look, muttered, “I’ll be right back.”

Disappointment skirled in her belly as he hightailed it to the bathroom. Sunk in her misery and completely absorbed in her pathetic Tristan-fest, she jumped when two heavy hands fell on her shoulders.

“Hey, this ain’t fair,” a deep voice boomed. “Why do you get so many pretty ladies at your table?”

Shannon turned to the behemoth behind her, an unfamiliar man wearing a Stetson and shit-kicker boots. His words were directed at Adam but his eyes were on her. “Hey there, sweet cheeks,” he drawled. “Wanna dance?”

She shot another forlorn glance at the men’s room and shrugged. “All right.” Why not? At least she could try to enjoy the evening.

“Whoo hoo. You shore got a pretty accent,” the cowboy said, drawing her to her feet and onto the dance floor, where he yanked her against him. He was big and hard and cute in a gosh-I-shore-like-country-music kind of way but hardly her type.

Within a minute she was pretty sure enjoying the evening was out of the picture and she had the crushed toes to prove it.

“Who the hell is that?” Tristan growled to his brother when he came out of the men’s room—hard-on finally tamed—to see Shannon on the dance floor with a man big enough to eat her for breakfast.

Adam shrugged and tipped back his beer. “Some guy. Asked her to dance.”

“And you let her?”

“Let her?” Adam snorted. “Have you met Shannon Weiss? She does whatever she wants.”

“He could be some kind of pervert.”

“I dunno.” Sara stared dreamily at the twirling couple. “I think he’s kinda studly.” This, she said as the man’s large paws slipped down to cup Shannon’s ass.

Tristan bristled and glared impatiently at the others sitting around the table doing nothing as that bear of a man mauled his—their—friend.

“Maybe she’ll get lucky.” Jenny grinned and licked the rim of her glass. She caught Tristan’s expression and blanched. “Or…not.”

“Whatever.” He shoved his fist into his pocket and pulled out some crumpled bills, which he tossed unceremoniously onto the table. He drained his beer. “I’m outta here.”

“Okay.” Adam sketched him a wave. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Tristan forced himself not to look at the dance floor as he made tracks for the front of the bar.

Damn but it bugged him to see her smiling and flirting and dancing, for Christ’s sake, with another man. The sight of Billy Bob’s hands on her ass almost sent him into orbit.