“Repaying my host for his kind hospitality,” I said tartly. I finished mixing and nudged the glass toward Wylder. “Drink up.”
He considered the drink with obvious curiosity and picked it up to swirl it in his hand. Just as he was about to take a swig, I called out. “Wait.”
He froze. Kaige and Rowan looked at me, their bodies tensed as if they were about to spring on me any second, like I was the one who concocted poisons around here.
I extended a saltshaker toward him with a smirk of my own. “I think I forgot to add the salt.”
Kaige laughed, and I felt the tension leave the room. Even Wylder chuckled. He threw back a gulp and then blinked with obvious surprise. “I’ve never had that before, but it’s good.”
“My own recipe,” I said, propping my elbow on the bar.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “What’s it called?”
“Hadn’t named it yet. Just made it up five minutes ago.” I tapped my finger against my lips. “In honor of its inspiration, how about we call it an Asshole on the Rocks?”
Kaige snorted so hard I thought a little Grey Goose might have shot up his nose. Wylder glowered at me. He did throw back more of the drink, though. Point to Mercy.
“Anyone else?” I asked, already putting together another.
Gideon ambled over, his gaze mild. “I’ll give it a try.”
Anthea stayed noticeably silent, hanging back from the bar. I had no problem simply ignoring her. As I mixed Gideon’s drink and one for myself, because I’d like a taste too, Wylder drained the rest of his glass and leaned his elbow on the counter. “I wonder how your fiancé dealt with that tongue of yours. Or maybe the problem is that he didn’t?”
He was close enough that his breath tickled over my hand when I poured out a splash from a bottle of gin. “What do you mean?” I asked, as if I couldn’t already tell this was going in a bad direction.
He shifted even closer, trailing a finger down the side of my arm. I resisted the urge to flinch backward like a coward, gritting my teeth at the heat his touch stirred up.
Wylder’s eyes gleamed. “You’re practically drooling for it. Couldn’t Colt Bryant satisfy you in bed? Although I guess a woman like you would be hard to please.”
“Oh, and I suppose you figure you’re the man to do it?”
He leaned back with his typical smirk. “Maybe that’s why you really came here, begging for my help.” His voice was full of innuendo, sending more heat through my body even though he wasn’t touching me now. I couldn’t help but think of how he’d fought the guys back at the parking lot, so swift and powerful. Imagine that strength put to work on my body in much more enjoyable ways…
I jerked myself out of the reverie. All this game-playing had gone on long enough. I drew the one ace I had. “You know what I think? You’re just making me merry-go-round in an attempt to distract yourself from the real problem.”
“And what’s that?”
I looked him straight in the eyes. “Titus’s death.”
I was taking a hard gamble, one that could go very, very badly. Farther down the bar, Kaige stiffened.
Wylder’s eyes turned cold. “What do you know about that?”
“You think word doesn’t get around? I’ve heard things.” I turned to Kaige with a flicker of sympathy for his obvious discomfort. “Things I find hard to believe, as convincing a case as certain parties might have made.”
“Kaige had nothing to do with it,” Wylder snapped. I’d hit a nerve, just like I’d meant to.
I shrugged. “There’s no point dancing around it. If you tell me your side of the story, maybe I’ll have some insights.”
Wylder scoffed. “What kind of insights?”
“I figured out plenty already without even trying, didn’t I?”
Wylder grimaced as if he didn’t want to give me credit. “You found out some. Not even half of it, I’d bet.”
I shrugged. “Then why don’t you fill me in while I make you another drink? What could it hurt?”
Wylder stayed silent, but he didn’t say no, which meant he was coming around. I grabbed another glass. This time I added a more generous amount of vodka, tweaking my recipe slightly. All the better to loosen his tongue.