Page 75 of To Have and To Hold
Carson reached them first, clearing his throat and effectively getting Jennifer’s attention.
When she pulled back, Atticus fully expected to see blood dripping from long, knife-like canines that had left puncture wounds in Slade’s neck. But she wasn’t a vampire. Not the fictional kind. She did resemble one, but the only thing she was draining from any man was their dignity.
She sneered, her big brown eyes narrowed with derision. “Carson.”
“Jennifer.”
Her glassy-eyed stare shifted to Atticus, and she smiled, licking her glossy lips. “And who might you be? God, you’re cute.”
Her gaze heated as her eyes trailed from his neck to his feet. He fought the urge to shiver because he was certain he needed a shower and she needed a cigarette.
“That’s Atticus,” Slade said, although he jumbled his name, then attempted to correct it without success.
“This is Atticus James,” Carson said. “Slade’s co-worker and roommate.”
“Roommate,” Slade repeated, slurring the word. “And fuck buddy. Don’t forget that part.”
“Oooh.” Jennifer’s eyes flashed with heat. “Can I watch?”
“No,” Carson bit out.
“Because you do?” she countered hotly.
While they glared at one another, Atticus held Slade’s stare. “I think you’ve had enough.”
Slade snorted. “Not by a long shot.”
“You have,” he said firmly. “It’s time to go home.”
“We’re not goin’ anywhere,” Jennifer stated, and Atticus realized she wasn’t the least bit intoxicated. She was merely pretending to be.
“You’re right,” Atticus told her. “Wearen’t because you’re not invited.”
Slade laughed, grabbing onto the bar to hold himself up. He pointed at Atticus. “I like you even more now. Which issooooooonot a good thing since”—his finger shifted in Carson’s direction—“you wanna fuckhim.”
“Don’t do this here, Slade,” Carson told him, his tone relatively gentle.
“Do what?” Slade tried to stand, but he kept leaning to the left. “I saw him first.”
“Is that true?” Jennifer asked gleefully. “Are you tryin’ to poach something so no one else can have it?”
“That’syourMO,” Carson snapped back at her. “Not mine.”
Atticus didn’t like the direction this conversation was going. And he knew Slade wouldn’t want the whole town hearing his thoughts if he were sober. If he kept this up, there would be no way to avoid the rumors that would no doubt run rampant for days, if not weeks.
Jennifer looked up at Slade, her hand sliding over his abs. “I think Slade prefers I join in, don’t you, baby? It was always hotter that way.”
Atticus’s throat tightened as he waited for Slade to refute her. He didn’t. Then again, he looked like he was about to pass out, so there was a good chance he had no idea what was going on.
“That’s enough, Jennifer,” Carson told her. “We’re takin’ him home.”
This time, when Jennifer started to argue, Atticus moved forward, nudging her back as he went toe-to-toe with Slade. He had to look up at the bigger man, but he didn’t back down.
“Let me take you home,” he told Slade, keeping his tone firm.
“Not with him,” Slade said, his words sturdier than before.
“Don’t do this here,” Atticus pleaded. The last thing he wanted was to interrupt the party. Brantley and Reese were having a good time, but he knew this could go bad quickly.
