Flirting With Disaster by Sofia Harper Page B

come morning. Peyton strayed down the bar to fill some
orders, and Reid rose as though to help her. She waved him off. He
went anyway.
    Tate added, “When you guys get the numbers,
the loser has to stand out on the street for a week holding a sign
for the winner's business.”
    Brooke snorted. “I love it. There's the
possibility of pictures. You're going to look so cute holding up a
Hall’s Mechanic and Body Shop sign.”
    “ Damn, that is good.” Dane
glared at Tate for even coming up with the idea. “Fine. We're
agreed. But, I know for a fact I'll win. Drink up.”
    She stuck her tongue in her cheek. “You have
no idea who I am.”
    “ Who is that?” Dane
asked.
    “ I'm a Hall.” She lifted
her chin. “We don't lose.”
    “ Huh.” The way she'd said
it with such pride sounded ingrained. He tried to hold that thought
and what it could mean, but the bar's temperature had gone from
cool to fry your balls hot. He unzipped his jacket and threw it
across his leg. “Then show me how a Hall wins.”
    She bent beneath the bar and lined up eight
glasses. She poured like a pro, straight down the line. “Go!”
    By the third one he couldn't stop laughing
long enough to drink. After every shot Brooke's face would scrunch
up like she was about to sneeze, ball her hands into a fighter
stance, and whimper. He finished after her, but he was still
chuckling.
    “ Never drink like that
again,” he said.
    She pressed a hand to her chest but stared
him down. “Shut it. My chest is on fire,” she wheezed.
    He laughed harder. “Is a Hall throwing in
the towel?”
    She looked at him partially impressed and in
horror. “You just belted those damn things down like they were
water.”
    His mind fuzzed at the edges and his chest
burned from the liquor. He'd had too many shots, but it was too
late now for that regret. “Peyton has family dinner. I have annual
family trips. Last one was Russia. Vodka. Lots of vodka.”
    She made a face. “Family trips?”
    He checked to his left and blinked. His
friends were gone. He glanced around the bar. Tate was helping
Peyton. Reid was somewhere in the crowd, either picking up empties
or delivering drink orders. He'd gotten his hat back from his
sister and had put it on his fat head. Dane glanced back at Brooke.
They were alone. In a room full of people, but he hadn't noticed
anyone but her.
    He poured himself another drink, conceding
for the moment. “Don't get me wrong. I love my family but the love
wears a bit thin after three weeks together.”
    “ No one ends up dead? You
must have the patience of a saint or your family isn't half bad.”
She leaned on the bar again and that was where all his focus
went.
    Full, soft, beautiful brown breasts. His
palms itched to cup them, bring them up to his mouth and taste her.
He sighed, finished the drink and tipped the glass upside down.
“For the record, I win the drinking contest. But, yes, my family is
like the Huxtables.”
    Her cheeks were flushed and her gaze had
lost most of the edge it held whenever she looked at him. “Your
love of sweaters make sense.”
    “ I flirted with fashion
design until I fell in love with literature.”
    Her brows lifted. “That's a huge
change.”
    “ My parents indulged me
when I was young. I could draw and I liked clothes. I had a hip-hop
phase. Suit phase. Everything in between. So, they sent me to some
camps. Found internships and apprenticeships that would further my
career when I got older. I wasn't impressed with the
behind-the-scenes of being a fashion designer. I didn't know what
to do and then I discovered Robert J. Parker. He was completely
different from anyone I had ever read at my private school. Books
became my passion. I didn't just want to read them or own them. I
wanted to share that love.”
    Someone took the stage, and the music
blasted out the karaoke speakers. For a second indecision played
over her features and then she shrugged. He sighed, not ready for
the conversation to end. He was