Page 19 of Knockout (Whiskey Dolls 2)

“Jude?” I asked in bewilderment. The man standing inside the small car looked different than I had ever seen him in all the months I’d lived in this building. Who in the ever-loving hell would have thought the man could clean up so damn well. Not that there was much to improve on, really, butdayum!

It was like he’d gone from sexy, rugged lumberjack to sexy, smoothGQin the blink of an eye. The man could wear the hell out of flannel every damn day, but now, dressed in black slacks and a deep gray button-down, that tingle between my thighs bloomed, entering my bloodstream and pricking my skin with a billion tiny needles.

It just proved there wasn’t a damn thing this man wore that he didn’t look amazing in. The smug rat-bastard.

“Jesus Christ,” he grunted, pulling me out of my reverie as the doors began to close. His arm shot out to stop them, forcing them to bounce back. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

Just like that, the spell shattered into a million pieces, and I glowered as hard as I possibly could as I moved into the otherwise empty car, my killer heels clicking on the tile floor.

“It’s called a dress, genius.” I jabbed violently at the button for the lobby as I turned to face forward. “If you don’t like it, you can keep your opinion to yourself, because I don’t want to hear it.” And why the hell did his reaction bother me so much? It didn’t piss me off as much as hurt my feelings, andthatwas enough to piss me off. I didn’t want this man to have that kind of power over me.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head as if his brain was an Etch A Sketch and he was trying to clear it. “I’m sorry,” he grunted in a husky voice that held a bit of rasp, like he’d just gargled with rocks. “That came out wrong. What I meant is that you look nice.” My head jerked around in his direction. “Really nice.” His inky blue eyes did a scan of my body from the crown of my head all the way to the toe of my stilettos. When he spoke again, his voice almost sounded like a growl, and I got the feeling he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “Fucking incredible.”

“Oh.” My skin suddenly felt like it had caught fire. “Um...thank you. You look...”Downright lickable. “You look really nice too.”

We were sealed alone inside the elevator, the one place I hoped not to be stuck with the man who was turning me into a pile of contradicting emotions. This was what I’d avoided like the plague all week because, just like the last time we were in this position, my brain had stopped sayingWe hate this walking turdand had started screamingCan we climb him like a tree? Pretty, pretty please.

He shifted his body to face the front and lifted his head to watch the red digital numbers blink down at a snail’s pace, so I did the same. Only, I was watching him from the corner of my eye the whole time. I couldn’t help myself. “So what’s the special occasion? Hot date?”

“Yes, actually.” It wasn’t a flat-out lie. Ididhave a date. I just didn’t have the first clue whether or not the guy I was meeting was hot. But Jude didn’t need to know that.

His head suddenly came around so fast it was a wonder he didn’t give himself whiplash. “With that asshole Baxter?” he barked in a voice as harsh as a cracking whip in the tiny elevator.

I looked at him in bewilderment, my eyes growing wide at the aggression not only in his tone, but etched into the lines of his body. He was holding himself so tense his muscles were straining, testing the strength of the seams on his shirt.

“What? No. My date isn’t Bax.”

He crossed his arms, looking for all the world like he wanted to rip something apart with his bare hands. “Then with who?”

“That’s really one of your business, is it?” I sniped, smacking my hands down on my hips. “And what about you? Why are you looking so fancy tonight, huh?”

For some reason, my question made him smile in a way that made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Because I have a date too.”

Where the hell did the air go all of a sudden? Because it sure as shit wasn’t in the elevator that was taking an eternity to reach the bottom floor. “You—you have a date?” My voice came out in a shameful squeak. The thought of Jude sitting across from another woman, looking like he did just then—or hell, how he looked any time, really—suddenly put me on edge.

Just imagining it had my vision tinging red for some inexplicable reason. I suddenly had the desire to snatch this faceless woman bald, and that reaction scared the shit out of me. I hated this man.Hated. So why did I hate the woman he was going on a date with even more? It made no sense!

“Who the hell with?”

“Careful, princess.” As if he’d read me like an open book, his expression grew familiarly arrogant. “You almost sound jealous.”

The sound that came out of my throat was the most unladylike noise I’d ever made. “Jealous? Please! That’s hilarious! I’m totally not jealous. I just feel sorry for whatever poor, unsuspecting woman is stuck with you for the next few hours. That’s all. I’m actually really glad you gave Tatiana the gymnast a shot. Pay her enough, and maybe she’ll rock your world.”

He studied me closely, and I had the distinct impression he could see right through me. If the man had X-ray vision, I wouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest. “Damn, princess. You reallyarethe worst liar. Bet you never got away with shit when you were a kid, huh?”

I ignored the last bit of that, pushing down the pang that came with the reminder that my upbringing was probably very different from his. It wasn’t something I thought of often, and the pain of my childhood, of being nothing more than a discard, had definitely lessened over the years. Most days it almost felt like it had happened to someone else, like I’d watched it play out like a movie. Then there were moments, like the one right then, when the sadness snuck up on me.

Ignoring the tempest swirling inside of me just then, I clipped, “Stop calling me princess! And I amnota bad liar.”

I really hated that nickname, even more so now that I knew why he called me that. He thought I was an entitled, spoiled, selfish brat. Aprincess.

“Sure you aren’t.”

Remembering his reaction when I first announced I had a hot date, a smile of my own pulled at my lips, just as smug and condescending as the one he always gave me. “And if anyone’s jealous, it’s you. Your head just about exploded when you thought I was going out with Bax.”

“That wasn’t jealousy,” he groused. “That was me thinking you’d made a stupid mistake after I told you what a jackass he is.”

Oh man, this was just too good. Smiling full-on, I jabbed my finger in his face and laughed. “Ha! Who’s the terrible liar now?”

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