Page 33 of Property of Bull
“If you’re Catholic and would rather a priest,” he patiently repeats himself. “There’s one that I would recommend.”
“No, I’m not. Thank you, though. I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep very much,” I say by way of explanation.
“No, I imagine not.”
“Here, I didn’t know what you’d like to drink and given the hour, I decided on a Moscow Mule for you,” Sauce announces, placing the drink in front of me.
He’s also got a beer for Halo and what’s probably whiskey for himself. Obviously, the hour isn’t an impediment for either of them.
“I thought you were going to crash,” Halo asks him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
“Got my second wind,” Sauce replies, tilting his glass in my direction. “Cheers!”
While I’d heard of them, I had never had a Moscow Mule before, always considering it a country club kind of drink.
It was refreshing, even with an ungodly amount of ice for this time of year.
By the second one, I didn’t mind the bitterness of the ginger beer and the third one was downright delicious.
It was during that third one, or it might be a fourth one, that a large pair of hands clamped down on my shoulders. Leaning my head back, I relaxed when I realized it was Bull, oops, Stryker, hovering over me.
“You’re even handsome from this angle,” I announce.
“Am I?” he responds, not thanking me for the compliment.
“Yes. You have a strong chin. Like you could take a punch,” I continue on until I hear someone let out a snort.
Lowering my eyes, I level a glare at Halo, except he points to Sauce.
“I asked you to keep her company while I handled shit, not to get her drunk,” Stryker growls and I tilt my head to look up at him again.
“I’m not drunk,” I assure him.
“How could she be after that breakfast you cooked her?” Sauce contributes in my defense. At least I think he does until I catch the glint in his eyes. “Did you really crush up Cap’n Crunch and put it into the waffle batter?”
“And bacon, too,” I remind him.
“The sheriff wants to talk to you,” Stryker informs me and that’s when I realize I might be buzzed. “Exactly. I bought us some time. We’ll go pick up some clothes for you and pump you full of coffee.”
“I don’t like coffee,” I reply, reaching for the drink in front of me without thinking.
He quickly tugs it out of my hand and throws it over his shoulder before placing the empty cup on the table in front of me.
“Are you going to clean that up?” I sputter out the question, more than a little annoyed that I didn’t get to finish it.
“No.”
“No?” I stand up to face him.
“It’s one of the perks of being President,” he snaps back.
“What other perks are there?” I wonder, momentarily sidetracked.
“That when I claim a woman,” he says, leaning down so that we’re practically nose to nose. “No one else would ever think of touching her.”
“You’re the only man I’ve ever, you know,” I whisper, my lips nearly touching his.
“And we’re going to keep it that way.” Stryker’s lips finally close the hair’s breadth between us and he leans down, grabbing my ass and pulling me up to where I can easily wrap my legs around his hips.
