Speakeasy (True North #5)(48)

Well, ouch. And Griffin cracks up.

“Good luck.” Zara pats my shoulder. “The prize is a week of free coffee at the Busy Bean.”

“I’m so there!” My sister makes me pay for my coffee, just like I charge my siblings for their beer. When you have four siblings, you can’t just give away the merchandise.

“Take a plate, will you?” she scolds as I grab a mini pig-in-a-blanket. “You’re getting crumbs on my table.” She thrusts a plate at me, and I load it up with food.

Munching, I duck back into the crowded living room. My eyes go straight to May again. I’m so aware of her, and that’s new for me. I’ve always loved women, but my interest usually fades after I get them into my bed.

Right now, though, I want to know what May and Lark are discussing, and where they went out for dinner earlier. I want more of May than the naked parts.

Although the naked parts are pretty great.

May must feel me looking at her, because she turns her head suddenly. Busted. I wink. She gives me a secretive smile and looks away, trying to be discreet.

For the first time, the whole discretion thing really annoys me. This whole house is filled with couples standing around together. I know May and I aren’t a real couple, but that doesn’t mean I should feel like a stalker over here on the other side of the room.

My subconscious prods me. Maybe she doesn’t want people to know she’s slumming with one of the Rossi boys.

My subconscious is such a dick.

Christ, I’m in a dubious mood. I’ll shake a few more hands and then look for an exit point.

“Time for the baby-bottle game!” Audrey says as Zara puts a tray down beside her.

“You just said the B-word,” Griffin points out.

“Oh, man!” With an eye roll she unclips the pin on her sweater and passes it to Griffin. “That went quick. Okay, kids. All you have to do is match the beers in these bottles to their names.” She whisks a cloth off the tray and—inexplicably—there are eight baby bottles standing there with various beers inside.

Weirdest fucking party ever.

“Winner picks his beer first,” Audrey says, which makes a little more sense. Except I can see from where I’m standing that the beverage table is well-stocked already.

“Alec, this is a game you can win,” my sister says, handing me a half sheet of paper with eight beers listed on it.

“You’d better believe it. This is kid stuff right here.” I take a pen and squint at the bottles. Number five is clearly the Coors Light. Nothing else is that flaccid color…

“Hey, care for a veggie?”

May’s voice is soft, and I feel her presence like a warm breeze. “Food? Always,” I say, giving her a smile.

She holds up a tray. “Do you like these?” She points at one end of it.

“Sure, doll,” I say. “But if you’re trying to get me to say another word for mini carrots, it won’t work.”

“Damn it,” she grumbles, grabbing a baby carrot. “Can’t you be more gullible?”

“People always underestimate me,” I complain, filling out my beer list.

“Not me,” she says under her breath. “I know the precise extent of your assets.”

I bark out a laugh so suddenly that heads swivel to see what’s so funny.

May smiles down at her feet. “I got your text. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” I say, matching up two more beers. “That dress suits you. Can I peel it off you later?”

“Didn’t you say you had to close the bar?”

“I’d blow it off for you,” I say quietly. I shouldn’t, but I will.

She looks torn. “I already offered to help Griff and Audrey take the baby gifts home,” she says, looking at her own beer list. “Can I cheat off your homework? I have to play this game at a disadvantage. Which one is the stout and which is the porter?”

“That’s easy,” I murmur. She’s close enough that her scent is making me crazy. “The stout gives better head.”

She snickers. “There are filthy jokes about beer? Why am I even surprised?”

“You’ve got the wheat beer and the lager backwards.”

“Damn it. Thanks.” May walks away from me after that, which cuts me. I eat some more of my sister’s food and try not to check the time. If I can’t chat up May, I really have no use for this party.

“Next game, gentlemen!” This time it’s Zachariah who’s waving people over. “The beanbag toss.”

Everyone chuckles, and then I see why. The beanbags have a very peculiar shape, with googly eyes and a tail. They’re sperm. And the target is a hole!

“I didn’t expect dirty games at a baby shower,” I say, getting in line behind Griffin. “This is totally my event. Betcha can’t beat me.” Man, it’s fun to bait the ex-football star.

“Get wrecked,” he says. “I’m obviously very good at pitching my swimmers.”

“And I’m not?” Across the room, May’s eyes widen. Her expression says, Please don’t talk about your dick with my brother.

Right. Bad idea.

Luckily, I’m an ace at the manly sport of tossing beanbags. My first turn goes three-for-three, and when one of Griffin’s slides off the side, I cackle, which makes him glare at me.