Amazon | Blushing Books

“You want to pop up and get our usual’s, sugar?”

Paige jerked, banging her head under the counter. “Tiddle twat!” she muttered, rubbing her crown as she pushed slowly to her feet. The amusement in that familiar voice curled her toes, and her body reacted with the same warm flush she experienced every time she heard it. Before turning around, she tried to guess which Carlson brother this time had her fired up on all cylinders with just a few words. Her libido never failed to jump start when either man spoke to her, or assessed her with those dark brown eyes, or brushed his fingers against hers when she handed over a drink. The fact she experienced the same quick reaction to both men always left her flustered, and just a touch annoyed.

Pivoting, she aimed a smile at Troy and Trevor seated at the bar, her heart tripping at the sight of the two hottest city employees it’d been her pleasure to serve. Man candy. Hunk on a stick. Drool worthy. Panty melting. Hunk a hunk a burning…lust. Every one of those euphemisms described the brothers who were so far out of her league they may as well be on the moon. Unlike a few other regular patrons, neither man had ever made a pass at her, never even hinted one might be interested in rolling around on her bed for a few nights of hot, sweaty sex, but that hadn’t kept the fantasies from giving her more than one sleepless night.

“Tiddle twat? I must have really startled you.” Trevor, the one with the sexy face scruff and a twinkle in his eyes cocked his head and winked.

“You did. I didn’t hear you come up.” Glancing at Troy, she nodded, stretching her smile. “Detective. You two haven’t been by in a while.” Setting two glasses on the bar, she reached underneath and grabbed the whiskey. She knew her customers.

“Too many bad guys to track down. How have you been, Paige?” Troy asked, his low, deep voice sending a delightful shiver down her spine. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he wanted an honest answer and would care about her reply instead of delivering polite platitudes. Both men possessed that way about them, talking to you as if you mattered, as if they really wanted to hear what you had to say. Maybe that accounted for her continued, uncharacteristic responses to the brothers whenever they came in.

“I’m good, thanks.” Adding sour mix to the whiskey, she dropped in a slender straw and slid the drinks over. “At least we’re not being plagued with a serial killer, or some other such cretin. And spring break is still weeks away, so you don’t have those headaches to deal with yet.” A shadow crossed both men’s faces, Troy’s jaw clenching when she joked about a serial killer. “Have I missed something in the news?”