Too Hard to Handle (Black Knights Inc. #8)(16)

“If dinner includes cuy,” Zoelner complained, “I’m out.”

“Oh, sack up, you big weenie,” Chelsea grumbled.

“Big weenie?” Zoelner mused. “Aw, Chels, I knew you snuck a peek when I was in the shower yesterday morning.”

“Ugh,” Chelsea grumped, and if it was possible for someone to roll their eyes with their voice, she’d just done it. “What is it with you men and your preoccupation with the size of your junk?”

Dan stopped listening as the two of them quickly devolved into an argument that included Chelsea suggesting Zoelner do something with his junk that Dan was pretty sure was anatomically impossible. Instead, he turned to Penni and was struck anew by how lovely she was, especially when she was wearing that expectant, almost eager expression. And even though a part of him was excited by what this new development with Skinhead might mean, a larger part of him couldn’t help but think this was a f*cker of a case of bad timing.

Three months on Winterfield’s trail and nothing. Then today, just when Penny arrives on his doorstep, bam! Their first real lead.

“We, uh…” He ran a hand over the top of his head and shrugged. Seriously, what else could he do? “We think we mighta caught a lucky break and stumbled onto something. I know you didn’t fly all the way down here for this, but right now I…we could use your help. You up for some drinks and dinner with a side of espionage?”

Something flickered across her face. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something that caused the semaphore flags in his head to lift up and start waving around. Then she shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

A breath of relief that seemed to come from nowhere rushed out of him. But that relief was short-lived. Because as he placed her hand in the crook of his arm, escorting her up the stairs toward the hotel, he suddenly felt like the sword of Damocles was hanging over his head, a portentous doom awaiting him if he made one move in the wrong direction with her.

Trouble was, he had no idea which direction was the right one…





Chapter Four


Palacio Mario Hotel

Friday, 5:42 p.m.

Dagan Zoelner watched Dan and Penni approach the table he’d appropriated after following Skinhead into the small boutique hotel. The spot had a killer view of the lobby with the added perk of a straight-ass shot down the hall that led to the bathrooms and the back door. Only way their not-so-friendly friend with the T/C Contender was exiting the place without being seen was if he spider-manned his way out of his bedroom window and down the exterior wall. And given the size of the guy…

Yeah, right. Not happening.

“Hey, you guys!” Zoelner said, standing and folding Penni into a hug. “Fancy meeting you here!”

“You need to get some new material,” Penni whispered, hugging him back to keep up the pretense of old friends. “My sense of déjà vu can only take so much.”

He winked after he released her, lowering his voice to respond, “Duly noted.” When he turned to shake Dan’s hand, it was to find the guy trying to scowl him through the floor. Zoelner’s chin jerked back. “What’s that look for?” he demanded.

“It’s okay to go ahead and turn off the charm now, asswipe,” Dan grumbled.

“What charm?” Zoelner asked, although he knew exactly what the problem was by the way Dan moved to stand proprietarily close to Penni. If they’d been dogs, this is the part where Dan Man would lift a leg to mark his territory.

“The hugging and the winking,” Dan grumbled. “That charm. And while you’re at it, bat those baby grays at somebody else too.”

Zoelner shook his head. “Slow your roll, dude. I heard you stake your claim.” With a subtle point to his earpiece, he added, “Loud and clear.”

“I knew you weren’t gonna let that slide.”

“What was your first clue?”

“I don’t know,” Dan said drolly. “Maybe the fact that you are, indeed, an asswipe?”

“Can either of you explain to me why men do that?” Penni interrupted before he and Dan could devolve into a really fun round of name-calling.

“Do what?” Dan turned to lift a brow at Penni’s pursed lips.

“Stomp around each other, growling and snarling, all big and bad like you have dicks the size of redwoods. Or maybe not having dicks the size of redwoods is the problem, huh?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

Dan choked and Zoelner crossed his arms, nodding. “I like her,” he told Dan. “And I take back the part where I said I’d let you keep that claim you staked.” He bounced his eyebrows at Penni because he knew it was guaranteed to tick Dan off. And right on schedule…

“What did I just tell you about turning off the charm?” Dan demanded.

Penni chuckled at the two of them. The sound was low and sexy. It must’ve hit Dan Man’s eardrum like a wet tongue, because Zoelner watched the guy gulp and immediately adjust his stance.

“In reality,” Zoelner told her, reclaiming his seat, “men tend to feed each other regular helpings of shit because, simply put, it’s fun. And it’s the only way this * and I”—he hooked a thumb toward Dan—“have entertained ourselves these past few months.”

And that was the straight-up truth. There were very few men Zoelner could spend ninety-three straight days with. Dan Currington was one of them. Probably because they shared the same warped, slightly dark sense of humor, were completely comfortable with hours, sometimes days, of silence, and knew each other well enough to agree that chitchat about the past was strictly off-limits.