Wound Up(79)

                “On three,” a stranger called. “One...two...three!”

                Justin watched Levi’s strategy. Composed of brute strength, his obvious intent was to pin Justin’s thumb and hold it there to another count of three. Justin toyed with him a little, teasing, letting Levi almost capture his thumb and then he struck. Levi broke the hold and the crowd cheered and groaned in equal measure. Letting Levi build his confidence back to dangerously high levels, Justin struck again, this time relaxing his hand for a fraction of a second and retightening it, depressing Levi’s thumb so it was bent at a painful angle.

                “One...two...three!” the crowd shouted before a rousing cheer went up.

                Levi dug out his wallet and handed Grace a five-dollar bill before tipping an imaginary hat in her direction. “How could you be sure he’d win?”

                “I wasn’t.” Grace shrugged. “But he has bigger hands and is unbelievably skilled with them.” She winked at Levi even as the other man roared with laughter. “Besides, when you threw in the kiss? I was sure he’d want to collect.”

                “Too right.” He glanced at Levi. “She’s off-limits.”

                “Man, I wouldn’t have kissed her.”

                “Something wrong with me?” Grace demanded, crossing her arms under her breasts.

                “Not a damn thing, sweetheart.” Levi grew serious and Justin worried about what the man might say.

                He should have known to trust him.

                Cupping Grace’s jaw, he kissed her gently on the forehead. “You’re the professor’s. That much is obvious. And while I might be the bigger of the two of us, I’m not about to pit myself against him where you’re involved. He’d snap me in half in order to preserve your honor.”

                Justin turned Grace to face him. “I believe a kiss from you is part of the prize pack.”

                “Well, a kiss and a beer.” She shrugged. “Plus I’ll split my five bucks with you.”

                “Keep the five bucks and buy me a beer this weekend. For now? I just want my kiss.”

                The way she eyed him so suspiciously reminded him that his goal was to earn her trust, to prove he was more than a one-night stand that culminated in a few poorly chosen words. He wanted her to be assured that he wanted her, not sex. Well, not only sex.

                Bending low, he hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, slapping her ass when she squealed in protest.

                “Put me down right now, Justin Maxwell!”

                “Hey, isn’t that the guy from Beaux Hommes?” a woman nearby asked.

                Just for tonight, they could all go to hell—all the fans, the regulars who knew him, the bouncers who eyed him suspiciously, his friends who were watching with renewed interest. Tonight was about Grace. He was going to show her exactly what he was made of.

                “Someone sacrifice their keys,” he said, holding out a hand and wiggling his fingers. “We’ll be back in a little while.”

                “Take my truck.” Cass dug out her keys and tossed them to him.

                Justin moved toward the door and the crowd parted like he was Moses headed for the Promised Land.