“Only one. The guy on her right is Fox Monroe. He’s a model. Riley introduced us once.”

So pretty boy was a model. Made sense. And no pretty boy model was a match for me. I slid my chair backward. “I’m going over there.”

“But we came here to talk about—”

I stopped listening to Reid. Rage boiled under my skin as I stalked toward the table in the corner. What would I say? I had no idea.

Right before I arrived, though, Lisa swooped in and laid their check on the table.

Pretty boy grabbed it. “Let me.” Then his eyes widened as he looked at what must have been an exorbitant number he hadn’t expected.

Lacey turned toward him and said something I couldn’t make out. Her back was still toward me.

Pretty boy shook his head and grabbed his wallet out of his pants.

And I laughed uproariously.

A little louder than I’d meant to.

Lacey turned around, her beautiful eyes wide. “Rock! What are you doing here?”

24

Lacey

Rock Wolfe looked delicious. He always looked delicious, and I was already horny.

And a little bit drunk.

Three bourbons were a lot for me, apparently.

“Having a drink with my brothers. I thought I’d come over and say hi.” He turned to Fox. “Mr. Monroe, I’d know you anywhere. Your face is all over the place. I’m Rock Wolfe. You probably know my sister, Riley.”

Rock knew a male model? He had to be joking, and his tone was freakishly fanboy. So not Rock Wolfe. But he seemed to recognize Fox. Was his face everywhere? I hadn’t recognized him. I doubted Rock followed men’s fashion. But what the hell did I know?

“Yes, nice to meet you,” Fox said, standing and taking Rock’s outstretched hand. “I do know Riley. She’s a wonderful model.”

“Yes, she is. You look a little surprised. Is everything okay?”

Huh? Fox had looked a little unprepared for the check he’d offered to cover.

“Lisa told us you were drinking the fifteen-year Pappy’s. So are we. It’s smooth stuff.”

Fox cleared his throat. “Yes, it is. Worth every penny.” He slid a credit card on top of the check and pushed it toward the edge of the table.

Rock was still chuckling. How expensive was that bourbon, anyway? It would be rude to look at the check. I unhooked my purse from the back of my chair and fumbled for my wallet. I was the one who’d mimicked Rock’s words and made the order. I’d had no idea the bartender would give us something ridiculously expensive. “I’ll be happy to cover half.”

Fox pushed my hand away. “I wouldn’t think of it. I never let a lady pay.”

“He’s a high-paid model, Lacey,” Rock said. “He can afford it.”