Drue reached for her drink. She’d get this over with and get out of here before things got too intense. She knew she was buzzed and was already regretting that margarita.

Jonah stayed her hand with his. “Not yet. This is team-building night, remember? And Marianne, as the most senior member of the CCK precision-drinking team, gives the signal.”

“Hey, Marianne. Waiting on you.”

Marianne, who had short, white-blond hair and the angular body of a runner, stood up.

“On my count. One. Two. Three. Drink up, assholes!” she screamed.

Every member of the team, including Drue, raised their glasses and downed their drinks.

She grimaced. If Jonah wanted to give her liquor poisoning, he’d made a good start of it. Her head was swimming.

He’d downed the creamy confection he’d ordered for himself in one gulp. Now he wiped his mouth, smirked and reached for the amber-colored shot.

He tossed it back and his eyes widened. He gagged, then forcefully swallowed. His eyes were watering. Thirty seconds passed, and then he picked up Drue’s empty margarita glass and spat out his drink.

“What the fuck?” he croaked. “What…”

“Oh. You want to know what’s in a Prairie Fire?” she asked sweetly, sliding a glass of water his way.

Jonah drank the water. “Hot tequila? Who does that?”

“I didn’t invent it. I just ordered it. So yeah, hot tequila and Tabasco. You’re lucky I didn’t ask her to garnish it with a ghost pepper.”

Drue reached into her pocket, pulled out a five-dollar bill and pressed it into their server’s palm. “Thanks, girl.” Then she turned to Jonah and Ben and stood, swaying a little as she did so. “Good to meet you both. I’m heading for home now.”

Ben jumped from his chair. “Let me give you a ride home. You probably don’t need to be driving.”

“Uh, dude. You don’t need to be driving either,” Drue said. She pointed at Jonah. “And neither do you. But it’s cool. I walked here. And I can walk home.”

“You seriously walked here?” Jonah asked. “From where?”

She turned and had to grasp the back of her chair to keep her balance. “Just down there,” she said, jerking her thumb to the north.

“Should have known. You’re the boss’s daughter. He has a house on the beach. You have a house on the beach. No biggie.”

She leaned down until her face was only inches from Jonah’s and whispered, “My dad has nothing to do with where I live, okay? You’re such an asshole, by the way.”

He leaned away from her and stood. “You’re wasted, by the way.” He looked over at Ben. “We can’t let her walk home like this. You want to drive her? If not, I can. I Lyfted here, and I can just have the driver drop her off.”