She threw him a dirty look. “Take me back to the hotel and you can have all the sex you’d like, there.”
“Hoo, baby!” he exclaimed. He swept her up in his arms and planted a sound kiss on her lips. Like T-Bone’s, it was beer-flavored. But unlike T-Bone’s, it made her knees go weak and her insides turn to jelly.
“How ‘bout you and me take a stroll down the hall, Pipes? The bathrooms lock. We can get as frisky as we want and no one would bother us.”
“Up till the part where T-Bone decides he wants to take the door off its hinges,” she retorted. “I’m serious. I want to get out of here.”
He shrugged over at his old comrade and threw a couple of bills down on the counter in front of the bartender. “Drinks forthe big guy are on me.” The bartender scooped up the bills and nodded, grinning.
She pulled free of Ian’s tugging hand so she could move to the edge of the dance floor and lay a hand on the big man’s forearm. The blonde threw her a bitchy look, which she ignored as she leaned close enough to murmur, “You’re a prince among men, Mr. Bosworth. I owe you one.”
He mock saluted her with a touch of his fingertips to his eyebrow. “Any time, ma’am. Take care of our boy, y’hear?”
“Will do, T-Bone. I’ve got his back.”
Ian, who had moved up beside her, chuckled, “And I’ve got yours, baby.” He passed his palm lightly over the back of her jeans and thrust his fingers in the far pocket. The gesture was casual and familiar and melted her into giant puddle of mushy feelings. She let Ian turn her and guide her out the front door onto the street.
“Can you walk or should I get us a cab?” she asked him. She couldn’t tell how drunk he was, or whether a walk would help clear his head or just make him sick.
He glanced over at her and grinned. “I’m fine. Are you too tired to walk back to the hotel?”
His diction was abruptly perfect and his movements coordinated and controlled. She frowned at him as they started walking down the block. “You’re not drunk at all, are you?”
“It takes a whole lot more than a couple of beers to knock me off my horse, darlin’.”
“What was all of that back there, then?” she demanded.
“All of what?” he asked innocently.
“The blonde bimbo hanging all over you. Slugging T-Bone.”
“You seemed to want the full wingman experience. I was giving it to you.”
She punched him in the upper arm, and she put some muscle behind it. “You are such a jerk!”
“You’re the one who bet me I couldn’t get laid in there. I hate to disappoint you, but you were going to lose that bet. Times at least three.”
She would’ve liked to punch him again, but she had to admit that he was undoubtedly right. It had been stupid to dare him to pick up a woman like that. She’d been stupid. And she’d reacted out of all proportion to that bimbo clinging to Ian like she owned him.
“Are we okay?” he asked.
She was pretty sure she was not okay. She had never before in her life been hit by jealousy like that. And she really, really didn’t like what it said about her feelings for Ian McCloud. She wasnotfalling for him. She was not that stupid. She wasn’t.
16
So. Piper didn’t like another woman hanging all over him did she? Well, well, well. Would wonders never cease? He glanced at her as he silently opened their hotel door and held it open for her. She slipped past him with a distracted nod of thanks. Looked a little lost in thought, there.
He moved over to the minibar in the corner, pulled out a glass, and emptied two mini-bottles of vodka into it. He carried the drink over to her where she stood staring out the window at the distant Strip.
“Don’t overthink it,” he said quietly as he thrust the vodka into her hand.
“Overthink what?”
“Us.”
“What is there to overthink?”
“I dunno. I’m not overthinking it,” he replied, with a hint of humor in his voice.