Page 16 of Ship Outta Luck

Even though it’s exactly what my last girlfriend would do. I frown.

Hell, it’s exactly what she did do.

The bartender sets the tab down in front of me, bringing me back to the moment.

“Thanks,” I mutter, leaving a few bills behind. “Mind if I get a rag? We’ve got a few sticky spots on the table.”

He nods, producing a somewhat clean cloth, and I make my way back to the table. June watches me carefully as I scrub the thing, and it sets my teeth on edge.

I’m supposed to be watchingher.

“That’s,” her voice falters as she speaks. “That’s really nice of you. I appreciate you cleaning up.”

I grunt, not trusting myself to answer and blow my cover.You don’t have to fake it, I want to snarl at her.I know who you are, now tell me where the drug sub is.

Yeah, that’d go over real fucking well.

“What’d you get for us?” Charlie asks, pushing her blonde hair over one shoulder.

“Something you’ll like.” Something that’ll get June just drunk enough to spill her guts, if I have any luck.

An odd expression flickers across Charlie’s face. It disappears as she flutters her eyelashes at Pierce.

“Your friend’s a real man of mystery, huh?”

“Dean can be pretty spooky.” Pierce laughs at his own joke, a double entendre June hopefully will miss, but my hands flex inirritation. The man grates on my nerves. My hand-picked team would never be so cavalier with the truth, not around a target.

“So, what do you guys do, anyway?” June asks, fidgeting with her purse strap.

“I—” I stop. Clear my throat. I can’t bring myself to tell my—our—approved cover story. I shake my head, as if that will help clear the sudden mental fog, and manage to inhale wrong, coughing.

“Dean’s a consultant,” Pierce supplies smoothly, smacking me on the back. “We work together on international shipping.”

Technically… not a lie.

June’s eyes narrow. “International shipping, huh? Surprised you two aren’t in Houston.”

“We work out of there pretty often,” I manage to say. “We’re, ah, entertaining some clients down here, trying to drum up business. You know how it is.”

Stupid, that sounded stupid.

I used to be good at this, at being charming and setting people at ease. Now every lie sounds hollow in my ears.

“Oh, that’s cool.” Charlie’s steely gaze meets me, as if she can see my train of thought. Maybe she can. She certainly seems to be laughing at me.

“Why would I know how it is?” June asks.

Thankfully, the loaded tray of drinks arrives, and I don’t have to make up another stupid lie. Fruity green mixer slops over the sides of frosty glasses onto the table as the surfer dude bartender plunks them down in front of us.

“Ladies, I assume the margaritas are yours.” Pierce slides their drinks over. “And I think my friend here decided to order?—”

June picks up a shot of clear tequila. Her hand shakes as she tosses it back, and Charlie’s eyes widen.

“Uh, June, maybe slow down a little?—"

But June’s already grabbed a second shot, and she tosses it back with a grimace. A moment later, she leans against the back of her seat and presses a hand over her lips.

“This is gonna be easier than I thought,” Pierce mutters in my ear.

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