Be My Hero (Forbidden Men #3)(62)

"I'm sorry," a third voice interrupted. "Ten told me we were hanging at your place today, so I followed him. I didn't know we weren't invited."

"It's okay," Mason answered. "I don't mind you other two being here."

"Hey!" Ten yelped, clearly offended, which only made Mason laugh.

"Yo, Gamble," Pick called, his voice more muted than it'd been before. "Hand me that wrench by your feet, will you?"

"You're not going to jack some guy in the face with it, like you did last time we were here, are you?"

Wow, had he actually hit Alec in the face with a wrench? Even though I winced over how much that must've hurt my ex, an uncontrollable grin spread across my face. I hope Pick had left a scar; Alec had always been so proud of his pretty face.

"Funny," Pick muttered. "Bastard had it coming. Hey, I heard you got your girl back. I haven't worked much with you lately to offer you a congrats."

"Thanks," Noel said, sounding pretty proud of himself. "Though I have no idea why she took me back; I lost her her job and then basically saddled the responsibility of three kids on her when I took my siblings away from my mom. But I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth. She's here and I'm appreciating her for as long as she decides to stay with me."

"Yeah, I heard about your brothers and sister moving in with you, too. That sucks, man."

"Actually, it doesn't. I'm less worried about them now, plus they're in a better place. It's better for all of us . . . except maybe Aspen, who's taking it upon herself to get them settled in and enrolled in school here. She's been such a godsend."

"Hey, whose beer?" Ten butted back into the conversation.

"Mine," Pick answered, his voice muffled as if he'd just slid back under Reese's car.

I heard the pop and fizz of a can opening. "Damn, you have cheap taste." Then he paused before sighing in refreshment as if he'd just guzzled half the can.

"If you're going to help yourself…" Pick's voice was dry, "then keep your damn trap shut about the label."

"Hey, I wasn't complaining. I dig cheap beer. And talking about cheap, you remember the chick who came into the bar to see you the other night? You gave her some cash and sent her on her way."

"Yeah," Pick said suspiciously. "What about her?"

"That was one cheap, easy broad. I'm telling you, all I bought her was a snow cone and she went down on me right there in the parking lot. Then she followed me home and screwed me every which way 'til Monday."

"You . . . " Pick didn't seem to know what to say to that. Then he finally asked, "You didn't give her any drugs, did you?"

"What?" Ten's voice was full of clueless confusion. "No! I don't do drugs. Why would you even ask that? Wait, is that why she was at Forbidden to see you? Oh, dude. Are you a drug dealer?"

"Oh, Jesus. Really? If I was the one giving her money, why would I be the drug dealer?"

"Shit. So she's a drug dealer?"

"No. Damn. Just . . . shut up. Neither of us deal drugs."

"Then why did you bring up drugs? And why were you giving her money? Who the f*ck is she?" Ten was beginning to sound alarmed.

"I brought up drugs because she used to be a crack whore. I was making sure you didn't give her anything. And I gave her money because she's my wife."

I slapped my hand over my mouth as it dropped open in shock. But, wow. I hadn't expected that answer. Neither had any of the guys, apparently. A pregnant pause floated through the window before Ten exploded. "I f*cked your wife?"

Then Mason, Gamble, and Quinn shouted together. "You're married?"

"Oh, shit." Ten's voice sounded hollow. "I knew you had a kid, but since when are you married? How the hell can you be married? You're like the biggest man-whore I know."

"I'm not the biggest man-whore you know." Pick sounded insulted. "You're the biggest man-whore you know. All you see is me driving drunk girls home from the bar every other night. I don't actually sleep with any of them. What kind of ass takes advantage of an inebriated lady?"

"I don't know," Gamble murmured thoughtfully. "Some of them are pretty persuasive. They can get hard to resist."

"Literally." Ten snorted at the pun.

"You're cracking jokes, Ten?" Mason asked. "Really? Right after learning you cuckolded poor Pick?"

"No," Pick was quick to reassure. "Tris and I don't have that kind of marriage. I mean, I've certainly never gone there with her. She's more like a sister to me. I'm just helping her out with insurance until she and her kid get back on their feet."

"So, the kid's not yours either?" Ten asked.

"Not . . . technically. But I'm probably going to be the only dad he'll ever know, so it doesn't really matter who donated the sperm to make him."

"And you've never f*cked her? Ever? So, I still haven't had any of your leftovers."

Wow, was that what worried him most? I sniffed. That Ten guy was a piece of work.

"No." Pick's answer sounded a lot more good-natured than my own would have been. "She and I have never . . . and will never. Frankly, I'm shocked even you wanted her. She's not exactly . . . "