Down to You(29)

“Well, get on it. Show me. People are waiting,” I say in my calmest voice, tipping my head to indicate the cluster of people surrounding us on the other side of the bar.

Her pale blue eyes flash with anger and her ruby red lips tighten. She’s ready for a fight. And so am I.

“You’d better leave that attitude at the door, honey, or tonight’s likely to be your last.”

I hear the hushed voices go up all around us—ooohs and aaahs and whispers of a cat fight. I ignore them and focus on Taryn.

“Is that right? You think you’ve got the pull to get rid of me just because you’re a compulsive control freak with an obsessive need for attention?”

Taryn’s laugh is bitter, but she doesn’t bother to deny it. I think she knows I’m right.

It hadn’t taken me long to peg her for what she is—an insecure girl with daddy issues. After my body-shot audition, she had gone above and beyond to draw every eye away from me and down the bar to her. She’d changed the music to an upbeat song by Jessie James and proceeded to dance along the bar, lip-synching Wanted to every male within viewing distance.

And, of course, they loved it. I mean, she’s gorgeous, even with long blond dreads, and she’s sexy in a very feline kind of way. What guy with a functioning penis wouldn’t love a girl like that up on display, teasing him mercilessly?

But I knew it was more for my benefit than anything else. As she was climbing down off the bar, she gave me a smug little smile. She was showing me up, showing me that she could show me up. What she doesn’t understand is that I don’t want all the attention. She’s welcome to it.

Thinking of it this way cools my temper considerably. I decide to give her what she wants—the love of all the men.

“What do you say to a little contest? Loser has to do a bar dance.”

I’m a little surprised at her hesitation, but then when I see her eyes flicker to my right, I understand what her problem is. Cash is mingling with a group of gushing girls not far from where we are.

Then I get it. I really get it.

Holy shit! She’s got a thing for Cash!

My first thought is that I don’t blame her. I think everything with estrogen likes Cash. My second thought is wonderment that they haven’t already slept together. That’s not very bad-boy like of him.

Unless they have and she’s just not over it. That would be much more bad-boy like.

For some reason, jealousy gnaws at my insides.

“You’re on,” she says with a nod.

“Best margarita wins. Both are on me,” I say then turn to the handful of guys watching and listening to us. “Who wants to judge?”

Of course, they all start clamoring to be chosen. But it’s not an issue when Cash steps in.

“I’ll be the judge,” he offers, his eyes daring me in the low light of the bar. “I think it’s only fair.”

“Of course,” I say, feeling a bit breathless when he’s so close and I’m in his sights. I look to Taryn. Her look has gone from hostile to downright murderous. It occurs to me that what began as a solid plan could very well back fire. “That okay with you?”

“Fine by me,” she says, turning a brilliant smile on Cash. “I know what he likes.”

The guys around the bar start hollering and whistling at that, nudging and teasing Cash. Cash just smiles at Taryn. And it bugs me. I can’t tell whether there’s something between them or not. Or if it’s just a tolerant employer-type smile.

I hope if there ever was anything between them that it’s over.

It chaps my butt to think of him flirting like he does with me, watching me, teasing me, all the while sleeping with Taryn. It shouldn’t matter. He’s a playboy and that’s what playboys do.

But it does.

Dammit!

“Come on, boys. Let’s give ‘em a little help,” Cash says. The people around him start cheering enthusiastically. Cash smiles at them and then turns to face me, leaning forward a little on the bar. His eyes meet mine and one brow rises in that holy mother of hell-sexy way, then he mutters, “You’ve got one chance to make my mouth water.”

I suck in a breath. And chills break out down my arms.

Damn, he’s good!

I’m so glad for the room full of people. Otherwise, I might embarrass myself by stripping off all my clothes and climbing across the bar to wind all my body parts around him.

Caution is nowhere in my head when I taunt him in return. “Oh, I can do better than that.”

His lips curve into a nerve-racking smile. “I don’t doubt that one bit.”

Dragging my eyes and my attention away from him, I put all my concentration into making a good drink. It’s much more difficult than it should be. My eyes keep trying to stray to Cash.