Shades of Gray - Maya Banks Page 0,2
total badass. He dwarfed her and was a good two inches taller than Derek, who was the tallest of his trio. And his biceps bulged and strained against the tight short sleeves of the T-shirt.
She couldn’t have planned this any better. His timing was impeccable.
“Cole, this is asshole number one, two and three.”
Cole lifted his brow and his eyes gleamed with amusement. “Is there a problem, gentlemen? Because the way I saw it across the room, you didn’t look friendly. In fact, it looked very much to me like you were trying to intimidate someone much smaller than yourselves, and a woman, to boot.”
“Fuck this,” Derek snarled. “You’re welcome to the fucking ice queen. She nearly froze my dick off.”
“What dick?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Cole’s arm was still around her and he didn’t seem inclined to remove it anytime soon.
“Fuck you,” Derek said rudely. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I can’t stomach being around a rat fink.”
The three men headed for the door and P.J. blew out a deep breath. That could have gotten ugly, and in this joint, there wasn’t much in the way of security. The one bouncer was balding, middle aged and had a beer gut that made him slow and clumsy. He wouldn’t be much help in an altercation.
“You can let go now,” she muttered.
Cole let his arm fall and then pulled a chair out at her table and sprawled into it, waving to the waitress at the same time.
The waitress wasted no time hurrying over. She gifted Cole with her best flirtatious smile and hovered a lot closer than necessary, affording him a prime view of her cleavage.
“Bring me whatever you have on tap, sugar,” Cole said with a wink.
P.J. rolled her eyes as the waitress all but fell for that fake charm. Cole was easy on the eyes for sure. Muddy blond hair, a newly grown goatee, which P.J. had to admit looked damn good on him. Blue eyes that could be mean as hell one moment and twinkling and carefree the next.
He was the total package, not that she’d ever tell him so. It suited her purposes to keep him down a few notches. Wouldn’t do to have his ego blow up on her. She did have to work with him, after all.
“What the hell are you doing here, Coletrane?” she demanded after the waitress had left. “This isn’t exactly your neighborhood.”
He shrugged. “Can’t a guy come in and check on a teammate?”
Her gaze narrowed. “Sure. There’s Dolphin, Baker and Renshaw, and you could always look in on Steele. I’m sure he’d looooove the company.”
“Maybe you’re just special,” he said with a grin.
“Lucky me,” she muttered.
But she couldn’t control the peculiar butterflies floating around her belly when he turned all that charm on her. Hell, she was acting like a damn girl.
The waitress returned and he tipped back his drink, taking a big gulp before he thumped it back down on the table. Behind him, the band struck up another ear-piercing song and Cole visibly winced.
“Holy shit, Rutherford. I thought you had better taste than this. What the hell are you doing in this shit hole anyway? Shouldn’t you be at home catching some R and R? You haven’t slept in what, three days?”
She cast a baleful look in his direction. “I could ask you the same question. At least I’m within a few blocks of my bed. Last time I checked you still resided in the great state of Tennessee. That’s a long-ass way from Denver.”
“Maybe I like your company.”
P.J. snorted.
For a long moment they sipped their beer in silence while the music clanged and more smoke filled the air. Cole’s eyes suddenly widened when two girls in either corner hopped up on an elevated step and began to do a slow striptease.
“Rutherford, are you a lesbian?”
She choked on her beer and then sat forward, letting her feet drop off the table and onto the floor with a clunk. She tipped back her hat so she could look him square in the eyes.
“What the hell kind of question is that?”
He gave her a quelling stare. “You’re in a strip joint. What else am I supposed to think?”
“You’re an idiot.”
He gave her a mock wounded look. “Come on, P.J. Throw me a bone here. Tell me you aren’t a lesbian. Or at least crush me gently.”
“You’re ruining my downtime.”
“Well, if this is downtime, let’s do it up right. Want to do some shots? Or are you afraid