Page 57 of Captive of Outlaws

“Dammit,” he curses, his eyes flashing with mirth.

“Little vixen.” Rob smiles. “She’s light on her feet.”

“Goddamn right,” I say, and dart behind Tuck for cover. He plays along, puffing out his chest like he’s hiding me from view.

“Stay back!” he commands, in a faux-imperious voice. “I shall protect thee, milady.”

Eventually, we devolve into flopping on the grass, drinking the rest of the beers, and squinting to see each other as the sun disappears. Tuck lures us back to the house with the promise of barbecue, and that leads to another round of drinks and a feast of pulled pork and smoked sausage and homemade cornbread so good you’d swear someone’s grandma baked it instead of a tousle-headed, tanned, adorable nerd. Rob ends up regaling us with a story of the time he and Will got trapped on the rooftop of some swanky hotel in Louisville, with Will correcting his every detail.

“And so I’m trying to jimmy the lock open with my credit card—”

“Mycredit card,” Will amends, pointing at Rob with his bottle.

Rob chuckles. “Please.” He turns to me. “Maren, trust me, it was mine. I needed a solid metal card, not some rinky-dink plastic.”

“I believe it,” I say, and make a nyah-nyah face at Will when he protests.

“Anyway,” Tuck says, keeping the peace. “I haven’t heard this one. So you’re jimmying the lock—”

“Right,” Rob says. “We’re God knows how many juleps deep, and I’m crouching trying to unstick this thing with my Amex, when—”

“When the door opens and the bar hostess sees us,” Will finishes. “Looked at us like we were absolutely insane, too.”

“I saved the situation,” Rob insists.

“What, you mean by handing her the card and saying ‘yes, another round, please’?” Will snorts. “I’m sure she suspected nothing. Didn’t find you weird at all.”

Rob chuckles. “Oh, she didn’t, don’t worry. Smoothed things out with her just fine, in case you forgot.”

Will’s eyes go shaded. Tuck coughs an awkward cough. I shuffle around in my seat. It’s the first time any of them has alluded to having any kind of...romantic entanglement. If you can call what sounds like a one-night-stand with a bartender romantic, anyway.

A niggling feeling of discontent stirs in my chest, but I squash it down.

Why would that bother me?

I futz with my bottle of beer, scraping at the edge of the label with my fingernail.Seriously, Maren, get a grip.Rob, Will, Tuck—hell, even LJ—they’re all red-blooded American boys. They’re good-looking and single and loaded. Ofcoursethey’ve pulled girls just like that, with basically a snap of their fingers. Why wouldn’t they have?

Of course, my yawn reflex chooses that exact moment to kick in.

“See?” Will says, gesturing at me. “You’re boring her.”

I shake my head. “No, no, it’s not that. It’s just—”

And I yawn again.

“She’s probably exhausted,” Tuck says. “Big day.”

At that, I have to nod. “I’ll say.”

“Sure was.” Rob stretches, his T-shirt riding up his stomach a little, revealing a hint of dark hair above his waistband I pretend not to notice. “Will and me can clean up here. Tuck, why don’t you get this pretty lady to bed?”

Tuck’s face goes lava-red. “I...”

Will bursts out laughing. Rob rolls his eyes.

“As inshow her to her room,” he amends. “Remember the rules.”

My head has made its way to rest on my arms on the table, to the point where I only half-hear that last part. “Hmm?”

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