The Marked Men Series Books 1–6: Rule, Jet, Rome, Nash, Rowdy, Asa. Jay Crownover

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eyes in my head so I knew logically she’s a beautiful girl, but she always seemed so cold and so untouchable that I never really thought of her as attractive—more like an impressive work of art that was meant for viewing in a museum than for everyday enjoyment.

      “Don’t lie. You two can’t stand each other.”

      I shrugged a little. “She’s like family. You know how I feel about my family.”

      Jet lifted an eyebrow. “I wish my family had members who looked like that.”

      I rolled my eyes. “Knock it off. Stop being a creeper.”

      She came back with not one pitcher but two and a plate of wings. She smiled at Nash and the other guys but when her bright gaze landed on me, the shutters came down. “The wings are on me. I just can’t help myself from trying to make sure you eat on Sundays.” She turned away with a flip of one of her pale pigtails and moseyed over to another table full of middle-aged guys in ill-fitting jerseys. I narrowed my eyes when one of them put his hand on her ruffle-covered butt. Clearly used to it, Shaw flashed her killer grin and easily sidestepped the groper. It was such a different way to see her that when she walked past the table again, clearly intent on ignoring me, I reached out and grabbed her arm.

      Her eyes flashed emerald sparks as she looked at the tattooed fingers I had wrapped around her wrist. I was surprised when a jolt of electricity shot all the way up to my shoulder at the contact. I lifted both eyebrows at her and gave her a nasty sneer.

      “Do your parents know you work here? What about Margot? I have a hard time believing any of the adults you try so hard to impress know that you’re prancing around here half-naked.”

      She scowled at me and shook my hand off. “No, my parents don’t know because they’ve never asked, and Margot knows I work in a sports bar but she doesn’t know what the uniform looks like, and I’m not even close to being half-naked. Leave me alone, Rule. My roommate works here, too, and she’s giving me the look that means she’s about to call in the troops. Unless you want to be carted out of here by three very big bouncers you’ll keep your hands to yourself and your trap shut. I like Nash, he’s always been nice enough to me, but I have no problem getting you and the rest of your friends eighty-sixed if you continue to piss me off.”

      We glared at each other in a hostile standoff until one of her other tables flagged her down.

      “Just one weekend,” she muttered so low I almost didn’t hear her.

      I frowned. “What?”

      Those eyes blazed so much at me I couldn’t even pick out one solid emotion. “Just one weekend I wanted a break from dealing with you.” She flounced away from me and for the first time since I had met her I realized that maybe spending time with me was as much a pain for her as it was for me. When I turned back to my friends they were all looking at me with a mixture of pity and awe. My scowl darkened even more as I chugged back my full beer in one swallow.

      “What?” I could hear the surliness in my tone.

      “Dude, what’s the deal with that?” Rowdy was the one who asked the question, but Nash and Jet both looked like they wanted to ask the same thing.

      “What are you talking about?”

      Nash lifted up his beer to hide a smile. “You both looked like you either wanted to box each other or tear each other’s clothes off and go at it right in the middle of the bar. What gives with that? I thought she bugged you.”

      “She does. She’s rich and spoiled and we don’t agree on anything; we never have.”

      Rowdy gave me a look that outright called bullshit on my claim. “I know what I saw and there is no way you wouldn’t take her if she offered it up to you.”

      I wanted to yell at him that he was wrong, so very wrong, because before she was any of the things that annoyed me and got under my skin, she was Remy’s, and there was nothing in heaven or hell that would make me forget that. Pulling in my temper, I poured another beer and lapsed into a moody silence. I wasn’t attracted to Shaw. I was just seeing her in a new environment, seeing her in something other than her fancy outfits that cost more than I made in a month.

      We were almost to the bottom of the second pitcher when, silently, Shaw dropped off a replacement and a really pretty girl with supershort dark hair suddenly appeared at the edge of the table. She was tall and had eyes the color of Jack Daniel’s, a mouth that would give Angelina Jolie a run for her money, and a body that was meant to stop traffic. She was wearing the same uniform as Shaw; only instead of kick-ass boots she had on a pair of spike heels that probably made her taller than Nash and Jet. There was nothing on her lovely face that came across as welcoming.

      Jet sat up straighter and Rowdy, who was by far the drunkest of all of us—he had started adding shots of tequila twenty minutes ago—almost fell off his stool when she posted up at the table between the two of them. Her gaze was trained directly on me, though, so I met her look for look until she finally spoke. She had a soft Southern twang and I could swear I saw Jet fall in love on the spot.

      “You’re Rule.” It wasn’t a question so I just nodded. “I’m Ayden Cross. I live with Shaw.”

      I wasn’t sure why that was supposed to matter to me so I kept silent while my best friend whipped his head around to glare at me. I was being kind of rude, but I was buzzed and still pissed at Shaw, so I didn’t really care.

      “I don’t know what your deal is, but leave her alone. She doesn’t need you screwing with her head anymore, so just back off.”

      I blinked because I honestly had no clue what this babe was talking about. “I don’t mess with Shaw.”

      She narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at me. “I know exactly what you do and don’t do, Tattoo Boy. I adore Shaw. She’s sweet, nice, and the best roommate ever. You need to just go do your troubled, bad-boy act somewhere else, she doesn’t need it …” It looked as if she was gearing up to lay into me even more, but something caught her eye and suddenly her eyes were glowing with gold fire. “Oh my God! I cannot believe that asshole had the nerve to show up here. I need to go get Lou.” She spun on her heel and marched through the crowd, leaving me reeling. I had no clue what she was talking about but clearly something had crawled up her butt. I looked over my shoulder and felt every protective cell I had suddenly come alive.

      Shaw was standing by the bar. It was crowded but her white-blond hair was unmistakable. She looked stressed and freaked out while a guy in a white polo shirt crowded her into the edge of the bar. He had a hand on her shoulder and was leaning down into her face. Whatever he was saying to her made her look like she wanted to punch him in the nuts or puke on his shoes. I’d never seen a look of panic on her face like that before; she was normally so cool and unflappable. Against my better judgment I was climbing to my feet. I wasn’t the type to give two shits about a damsel in distress, and this damsel, I knew for a fact, could take care of herself. But she looked like she was struggling and, despite how I felt about her, I was going to intervene.

      “I’ll be back in a second.”

      Since I’m tall and have a good portion of visible skin covered in designs that cry “don’t mess with me,” I didn’t have to worry about people in the crowded bar moving out of my way. When I got close enough her eyes snapped to me and I was pretty sure I saw relief flood into their sparkly green depths. Polo Shirt leaned in even closer to her, and I thought I heard him say something about how things were going to look when he went home

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