Page 95 of Snow Bound

“Anytime, my darling.” Lola leaned down, planted a smacking kiss on Anna’s cheek, then scooped up her bag and headed for the door. “Now go get ready so you can get the magic peen back.”

Anna laughed. “You’re such a freak.”

“Takes one to know one!” Lola called back.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Grant sat on a padded leather barstool, nursed the whiskey he’d helped himself to, and watched the door. The club was empty and quiet, the only sounds the tick of the clock on the wall and the impatient tapping of his fingers on the polished wood of the bar.

“You might want to calm down,” Simon said from his seat beside him. “She walks in and sees that look on your face, she’s going to turn right around and walk back out again.”

“Fuck off,” Grant muttered and knocked back the rest of his drink.

Michael sauntered up to the bar. His dark brown hair was in need of a trim, his jaw was in need of a shave, and his green eyes were sharp and faintly annoyed. He cocked an eyebrow at Grant’s empty glass, and Simon’s full one. “I see you boys found the booze.”

“He needed something to settle his nerves,” Simon explained, sipping his red wine. “He’s nervous as a newbie getting their first spanking.”

Michael’s lips twitched and he nudged the empty glass with one long finger. “Want another, Romeo?”

Grant scowled. “No. You two don’t have to hang around, you know.”

“Oh, we absolutely do,” Simon countered. “I need to meet this woman.”

“She’s a beauty,” Michael put in, stepping behind the bar. He selected a bottle and a glass, and poured. “I’m regretting not making a move there when I had the chance.”

Grant scowled harder. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Michael set the bottle aside and held his hands up in a placating gesture. “I wouldn’t think of it. But maybe she’s got a sister, or a friend.”

“Oh, she’s got a friend.”

Michael lifted an eyebrow at Simon’s muttered statement. “Called dibs, have you?”

“Hell, no,” Simon said, looking so appalled Grant almost laughed.

Michael swirled his drink. “Hmm. Well, I don’t know about the friend?—”

“And you don’t want to,” Simon assured him.

“But you’ll be fine,” he assured Grant. “Anna loves you.”

“How do you know?” Simon demanded.

“Because I watched that scene.”

“What scene?” Simon asked.

“The interrogation scene.”

“There was an interrogation scene?”

Ignoring Simon, Michael turned back to Grant. “I saw her face every time you looked at her, every time you spoke to her. You didn’t see it, did you?”

Grant grimaced, feeling like a fool. “Not then, no.”

“Well, you were preoccupied,” Michael said generously and sipped his drink.

“Is somebody going to fill me in on this interrogation scene?” Simon wanted to know.

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