Luck of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #2)(68)
The headline reads: Creighton Karas Crushes Competition.
“What are you talking about, woman? You’d bury me out back if I so much as looked at another woman,” Mick grumbles.
Tana’s lyrical laugh echoes off the walls. “Damn right, and don’t you forget it.”
I snatch the magazine out of his hand to get a closer look.
“Whoa, girl. Calm down.”
I wave him off, the wine dulling the instincts that would otherwise have me continuing to bow and scrape in his country-music royalty presence.
“Shhh. I need to look at him.” I’m not sure why I need silence to do that, but apparently the large bottle of wine I drank says I do.
The man is gorgeous, but he looks cocky and arrogant. I flip the magazine open and page through it until I find another picture of him.
I win because losing isn’t an option.
—Creighton Karas
I know I’m truly drunk when the only thought filtering through my brain is how much I’d like to be his prize when he’s winning. Where the hell did that come from? And like I’d even know what to do with a man like that. He’s so far out of my league, it’s not even funny.
I glance over at Mick and Tana, who are once again locked in a tangle of lips and limbs.
And . . . that’s my cue to leave.
I slap the magazine shut and rise on shaky legs. “I should probably get going.”
Tana pulls away from Mick and raises an eyebrow in my direction. “Honey, you ain’t driving anywhere. I’ll go make up a guest room. It’s the very least I can do since I got you shitfaced.”
“Not necessary. I should get home. I have . . . a plant that needs water. Or something.”
I squint because I can’t remember if my plant is dead or alive. I haven’t watered it in as long as I can remember. Apparently I’m thinking too hard about plants, which might be alive or dead, and not concentrating on my balance because I tip forward.
Mick catches me with an outstretched palm. “Come on, honey. We’re putting you up tonight. Won’t hear anything different.”
He turns me around and marches me toward the door that leads into the sprawling mansion. “Besides, it seems like someone needs to take you under their wing so you don’t get chewed up and spit out by this bitch of an industry. My wife isn’t exactly the type to bring home strays, so she must’ve seen something in you needing a little protection. We’re gonna make sure you have it.”
My eyes burn, and I blink back the unexpected tears. I’ve been in this town for six months, essentially friendless, and in one night I’ve apparently been adopted by two people I never thought I would ever have a chance to meet.
“G’night, Holly. I’ll see you in the morning, sweets,” Tana calls from behind me.
Apart from those blissful moments standing onstage, for the first time in months I have a genuine smile on my face, and I feel like I belong somewhere.
It doesn’t last long.
* * *
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