“Jamie?” Maisy asked suddenly. The stripper’s body flinched, but he held his ground. Maisy puffed up visibly with anger, looking exactly like a Thanksgiving turkey as she stalked toward him. A hand grabbed the phone and it went down, going dark, but you could still hear the audio. Must’ve fallen on the floor. “Jamie Braeburn, you’re going to burn in hell for this!”

Someone started laughing, and then more laughter.

“Get the fuck out, Maisy,” he said. “This has nothing to do with you. Nothing to do with—”

The recording ended, but the laughter kept going. Talia was giggling against me, rubbing up and down my chest with one hand, reaching for my cock with the other.

“Told you it was funny,” she said in my ear before slithering on top of me. Then she gave a little shimmy, and my confused dick hardened right back up again.

Stupid fucking slut of a cock—according to it, a wet hole was a wet hole.

“I’m gonna think of Jamie’s ass while I fuck you,” she whispered, nipping at my neck.

“Fuck off,” I said, pushing her away. She could picture me as Santa Claus if that’s what turned her on, but I needed to maintain some kind of control. Talia rolled to the side, pouting.

“Hey, you’re the one who said we weren’t in a real relationship,” she told me. “So what if I get off on his ass? Either you care or you don’t.”

Time to lay out the rules, I decided. Otherwise this could get out of control fast.

Who are you kidding? It’s been out of control since the beginning, asshole.

“You wanna fuck me, then get your clothes off,” I said harshly. Reaching down, I grabbed my dick through my jeans, giving it a tug while I stared her down. Talia’s eyes flashed with heat. “But if you wanna fuck him, get out.”

“Sorry,” she said, her voice quiet and weak, like a little girl’s. She did that sometimes. Creeped me right the hell out. My dick softened and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from snarling. Thankfully, it manned back up when she reached down, pushing my hand out of the way and taking over.

“Is this for me or for her?” Talia asked, that little hint of insecurity back in her eyes, and I knew I had her. For whatever reason, she cared about this relationship in some way. I’d just won a twisted, manipulative fuckbuddy lottery. Maybe I wouldn’t be stuck playing club gigolo as long as I’d thought. Good thing, too—nobody stupider than an unpaid whore, and I’d definitely fallen into that category by now. Probably shot out IQ points every time I came inside her.

“Cooper?” Talia asked, using that same little voice as she unbuttoned my pants.

“All yours, baby,” I told her, wishing it weren’t true. Then I closed my eyes as her fingers gripped me tight.

Suck it up, dickwad. The faster you work your way into the Nighthawks, the faster you can end this. Your brothers are counting on you.

Fuckers.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MONDAY MORNING

TINKER

“Well, I’d say I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life, but that’s a big fat lie. Why do I do stupid shit around men?” I moaned to Carrie, the phone clutched between my ear and shoulder. Where the hell were my keys? I dug through the purse, searching for them. Then my fingers found a rough metal edge. Thank God. A second later I had the shop door unlocked and open.

“We all do stupid shit, but this is a whole new level,” Carrie replied, blunt as ever. “What the hell were you thinking?”

I stepped into the shop, turning the “Closed” sign around automatically.

“My brain shorted out, obviously,” I replied. “I know everyone in Hallies Falls already thinks I’m a whore, but until today I’ve never felt like they were right.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too much,” Carrie said. “Cooper and Talia aren’t even exclusive. Darren and I went to Jack’s Roadhouse on Friday night and she was there making out with some other guy. The situation is trashy, but it’s not like you broke up a marriage or something.”

Trashy. Not a word I liked to associate with myself, but it fit the situation just fine.

“Yeah, I hear you,” I said, sighing. “And much as I’m enjoying my pity party, I need to pull my shit together and move on. I’ve got about a million chocolates to package for the courier and Randi just called to say she needs the morning off, so I’m on my own. Guess she had to take one of her little sisters to the doctor or something.”

Carrie snorted.

“That girl needs to get the hell out of here. Her mom’s just using her for cheap childcare. She had a scholarship to Central, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. But it’s her choice.”

Carrie humphed, obviously itching to say more. Instead, she changed the subject.

“Want me to stop by at lunchtime? I feel like we haven’t thoroughly discussed the Cooper situation—we need a full postmortem, don’t you think?”

“No, not even a little bit.”

“Great. I’ll be there at noon. You want your usual sandwich?”

“Can you get a salad instead?” I asked, giving in to the inevitable. “I’m feeling a little pudgy next to Talia the Twig. Not that it matters, but . . . it matters.”

“You’re not fat, dork. You’re lush. You have a great figure—even Darren notices it.”

I shuddered.

“That’s gross. He’s like my brother.”

“No shit. Apparently he saw you bending over to grab something at the grocery store a while back and totally checked you out—it’s that ass of yours. Guys love it. Anyway, he was perving on you and then you stood up and he realized who it was. Poor baby called me from the parking lot, freaking out. Wouldn’t fuck me for two days, just kept muttering about being ‘unclean.’”

I laughed, setting my bag down on the counter. Talking to Carrie always made me feel better.

“I think I remember that, actually. Couple months ago. I tried to wave him down but he jetted right past me, wouldn’t even look me in the eye. I guess now we know why. You do realize I’ll never let him live this down, right?”

“Definitely,” she said, sighing happily. “That’s why I told you. He’s been uppity lately, could use a little harassment. Will you be all right packaging the candy for the courier?”