Page 15 of Knockout (Whiskey Dolls 2)

Bax started to look a million different kinds of uncomfortable as he slowly backed away. “Uh, well...okay. I should get going.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, clearly eager to get away from Jude and me and our special brand of psycho. “I have somewhere to be.”

Damn it! And I was just building up the nerve tofinallymake a move. Or at least put it out there that I was receptive to a move from him. “Wait. Weren’t you going to check your mail?”

“I’ll get it some other time.” He looked to his wrist—hiswatch-lesswrist. “I’m already running late. See you guys around.” With that, he turned and hightailed it out of the mailroom, leaving me alone with my arch-nemesis once more.

“What the hell was that?” I yelped as I whipped around on Jude. “You really are crazy, aren’t you? Like, clinically crazy!”

“Weird way to say thank you.” A derisive snort bubbled up his throat as he tossed the porn fliers in the trashcan and started out of the mailroom. I followed after him, having to skip walk to keep up with his long-legged strides.

“Thank you?” I asked in bewilderment as I scurried after him. “And that wasnota real ‘thank you’ just in case you were wondering. That was me wondering what the hell I’m supposed to be thanking you for. You totally just cock-blocked me back there!”

Having reached the elevators, he stopped so fast and turned around that I nearly collided into his massive chest, stumbling over my feet to stop myself. “Thatguy? Seriously?”

“What’s wrong with him? Bax is a sweet guy.”

He threw his head back on a sarcastic, booming laugh. “You’ve got to be joking. The guy’s a douchebag.”

It was my turn to laugh sarcastically. “Wow. So what’s that make you? The pot or the kettle? And he’s not a douchebag,” I defended.

“Please. The guy’s name is George Baxter, but he tells everyone to call him Bax?” He arched a brow, like that explained it all. “That’s douchebag one oh one. And what the hell kind of nickname is Bax?”

All right, so I didn’t really have a defense for that one. He kind of had a point. Bax wasn’t the greatest of names. Then again, George really wasn’t either.

“He’s nice.”

“He’s fake,” Jude countered as he hit the button to call the slow-ass elevator. “And he’s got you fooled with a capped smile and dimples I’m sure he paid a plastic surgeon to create.”

The doors slid open and we stepped on the elevator car at the same time as I continued my defense. “It’s not just about his looks,” I snapped, slamming my hands down on my hips.

He mimicked my stance. “Yeah? Then tell me something you actually know about that loser.”

My face scrunched up at his challenge, and I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly. “All right, fine. I know that he’s got great taste in books.”

His expression was full of snark as he said, “Well color me surprised. I didn’t know the guy could read, let alone hold a conversation about his love of books.” He registered the look on my face before I could mask it. “What? What is it?” He pointed his finger in my face. “What aren’t you saying.”

“Nothing!” I cried indignantly as I smacked his hand away.

He grinned knowingly. “You’re a terrible liar. Has anyone ever told you that?”

I lifted my chin haughtily. “I lie just fine, thank you very much.”

He shook his head and chuckled. “You really don’t. Now spill it. What are you hiding?”

“Fine!” I exclaimed, flapping my arms in the air. “So I didn’t actually have a conversation with him about books we love, but Ididfind a paperback he left behind in the laundry room a few weeks ago, and I started reading it, and it’s totally awesome, so I know for a fact that we have the same taste in books. Oh, I also know he’s a great cook.”

Something moved across his features that I wanted to scrutinize, but it was there and gone before I could. “And how did you come by that knowledge? Telepathically?” he teased.

I scrunched my face up childishly. “No, not telepathically. He told me he was the one who brought the lasagna to that One Night in Italy event the building hosted last month. And it was the best lasagna I’d ever had. So there! Ha!”

The smile that pulled across his lips developed slowly, like a cartoon villain who was just about to announce his plans to take over the world. Even as sexy as his smile was, it was still unsettling as hell. It was as if he was in on a secret that was just too juicy to keep to himself. “What’s happening right now? Why are you smiling like that?” I asked accusingly.

“I’m smiling because this is just so fucking good.”

I eyed him suspiciously, suddenly very aware that we were alone together on an elevator that moved slower than a ninety-year-old granny in need of a hip replacement. I hadn’t even balked at climbing into this potential death trap with him, and if he finally snapped and decided to kill me, this would be theperfecttime to do it. “What are you talking about?”

“That book you found? It’s mine, and I’d really like it back, if you don’t mind.”

No. Flipping. Way! “Nuh uh! You’re lying.” I refused to believe it.

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