Julia’s eyes widened at that, because while she knew we weren’t monks, we’d never once said we’d found The One—and it hadn’t been long since I’d shown up and she’d been poking fun at me. She knew about Dad’s tale of love at first sight and was waiting for a man, no men, of her own—I pitied any who tried to get past her brothers, and Jed—and a smile spread across her face.
“Really? Where is she?” She went up on her tiptoes and hunted, as if she could pick Kaitlyn out of the crowd.
With her long, curly red hair pulled back into a ponytail, Julia’s green eyes and freckles couldn’t be missed, even in the dim bar lighting. Her coloring had always been a mystery since no one else in the family, at least in recent memory, had genes like hers. My brothers and I always joked that she’d been adopted. Now, it was cute that she was so eager for us to find The One.
“She doesn’t have a sign on her, you idiot,” I told her.
She dropped back onto her heels, frowned.
“I was the one who got you here, remember,” she grumbled. When we just stared at her, she went on. “Fine, what’s she look like?”
“Dark hair in a bun,” Jed began. “About your height. Wearing a white button-up shirt and little skirt.”
Julia scanned the crowd.
And at the same time, Jed and I glanced at each other and added, “Glasses.”
“About my height with curves I’d kill for?” she asked, glancing at us over her shoulder. “Cowboy boots?”
I thought of those curves and how I wanted to get my hands on them.
“Definitely.”
“Is that her on stage about to get a lap dance from Mr. Sexy Cowboy?”
We whipped our heads to where Julia was pointing. Sure enough, there was Kaitlyn being led by the hand to an empty chair set in the center of the stage. The stripper, dressed up like a cowboy—barely in just a pair of leather chaps and a red thong, a cowboy hat on his head—waited until she was seated before he straddled her legs. And it wasn’t dancing he was doing right in front of her face.
“What the fuck?” Jed growled, picking Julia up and lifting her out of his way.
“Fuck, no,” I added. “If she’s going to have a dick in her face, it’s going to be mine.”
“Or mine,” Jed added.
Without a backwards glance at my sister, we stormed the stage.
3
KAITLYN
What had I gotten myself into? I was too stunned to be totally panicked. It was
n’t every day a stripper grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the audience. Me! There were well over a hundred women in the audience much more eager to see the guy in chaps strut his stuff, even stuffing some dollar bills into the tiny little thong he wore. That little scrap of spandex did nothing… nothing… to hide his junk. It was all but swinging about as he tugged me along. Like how a freaking elephant trunk dangled.
Gah!
I glanced back at Ava and she was grinning and clapping, excited for me. I’d been too quick in the bathroom, and the water I’d been drinking didn’t help loosen me up and lower my inhibitions like the liquor the others around me were putting down.
I’d been working so much, Ava had all but threatened to come to my house and drag me out tonight, so I decided to skip going home altogether after work. Otherwise, she’d be right; I’d be in my PJs and vegging on the couch. She’d wanted me to ‘get back out there’ after the flop that had been Roger. Six weeks ago. It wasn’t as if I’d been heartbroken over the guy; he’d turned out to be a creep. A creep who didn’t seem to like to take no for an answer… still. As for Ava and my current situation on stage, I hadn’t realized getting back out there meant a lap dance.
It wasn’t as if I’d been chosen from the audience for the Price Is Right or something. Nope.
Definitely not, because the stripper had settled me into a chair that faced sideways to the audience. He moved in close. Real close so he was straddling me. The way we were positioned, everyone in the audience got a clear view of both of us in profile. And I got a clear view of his—
Sure, he was well-muscled. I couldn’t miss his eight-pack abs slicked with baby oil. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. But there wasn’t a bit of hair either, except on his head. He was hot and his smile could tug down the panties of most women, but he wasn’t rugged. Manly. A take-charge-and-dominate kind of guy. If I’d said no to being pulled to the stage, he wouldn’t have pursued me, but would easily have found another willing woman from the audience. Why I hadn’t done just that, I had no idea.
This was all show and he was pure, one hundred percent man candy. Unfortunately, he wasn’t lighting my fire in any way. I’d get publicly up close and personal with this guy and I’d get Ava off my back at least for a few days, but I wouldn’t be thinking of him tonight when I made myself come—all alone in my bed.
I wished Ava had been pulled up here because she’d be all over this. No, she’d be all over him, her hands sliding over his slick skin, tucking bills into the edge of his G-string or the leather chaps. I looked up, saw him wink at me as he began to expertly move to the beat of the music, his hips gyrating and his barely covered, barely controlled dick began whipping around.