Taming the Storm (The Storm #3)(29)
Author: Samantha Towle

The food might be a bit sketchy here, but the beer on tap rocks! I’m two pints in and ready for another. I’m ready for that other beer because I’ve had to endure watching Ashlee paw over Tom during the entire dinner. Granted, he’s kept his hands to himself, but it hasn’t stopped him from flirting right back with her.

And he’s barely spoken to me—let alone, looked at me.

Hard to take when I’ve had his attention all week.

Yes, I know exactly how I sound, which is why I’m seriously considering banging my head against this table any second now.

“You all right, honey?” Shannon pulls up a chair beside me at the end of the table.

“I’m great.” I give her a megawatt smile to emphasize the fact that I really am.

Even though I’m kind of not.

I’m feeling all these confusing things about Tom. The more time I spend with him, the more I like him.

But I don’t want to like him. I can’t like him.

And it really pisses me off when I have to see other women all over him.

I know it’s irrational, and it’s my shit to deal with, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less, especially when it’s happening right in front of me.

I’ve really gotten to like Shannon after spending more time with her. Ashlee, not so much. If she’s not hitting on my boys or Tom, she’s busy looking in the mirror.

Shannon smiles at me and pats my hand. “Honey, when a girl tells me she’s all right and I get to see all her teeth in that smile, then I know she’s far from all right.” She looks down the table at Tom and then back to me.

“It’s Tom, right?” she asks, lowering her voice.

Realizing that I’m worrying my lower lip with my teeth, I immediately stop it, freeing my lip. “I’m fine. Maybe just a bit tired, but that’s it.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “He’s not interested in Ashlee. If he wanted her, he would have done her by now, probably in the restroom. I know Tom. Spent a long time on the road with him and the boys way back when. If Tom wants something, he just takes it. No foreplay—in the figurative sense.” She takes a drink of her beer, reminding me that I’m in dire need of another.

“I know you said nothing is going on between you and Tom. Tom also heavily highlighted that fact to me. Sure, there might not be anything physical going on between the two of you, but currently, the level of sexual tension between you and Tom is enough to light the whole city of LA for a year.”

I stare at her. “Don’t be crazy.” I sweep her statement away with my hand.

“Deny it all you want, but I see what I see. And what I see is some serious eye-fucking going on between you two. Either Tom is a changed man—he has seemed different lately—or you’re holding off on him, which I can’t figure out. Any red-blooded woman would be dragging that man back to her bed and not letting him out for days. And I speak from experience there.”

I can’t help it. I wince at the reminder of the fact that Shannon and Tom have history—of the sexual kind.

“See!” She points a red talon at my face. “There it is. It bothers the crap out of you whenever I mention me screwing Tom years ago. Girl, you have the serious hots for him. And he clearly has them for you. So, do something about it before someone else turns his head, and you’re left wishing you had.” She picks her beer up as she stands and sashays back over to her table.

If only it were that easy…

I pick up my glass to have a drink, and then I remember it’s empty. Fuck. I decide to hit the restroom first before getting another drink.

On my way back to the bar, a few women pass me, and I hear them gushing excitedly about Tom Carter being in the bar. I guess he’s been spotted.

I feel a sudden sense of privilege in this moment. I sleep under the same moving roof as Tom. I’ve seen the dude freshly showered and wearing only a towel. I get to talk with him all the time. He’s become a real friend to me over this past week.

I guess these women would think I’m lucky.

Maybe I am, and I just don’t appreciate it.

Or maybe this is just the beer talking.

Smiling to myself, I step back into the bar area, and that’s when I see Tom standing at the bar. And there’s a pretty bottle-blonde woman with hair down to her tiny waist, legs like bar stools, and big boobs that look real. And Tom is looking at them with full appreciation.

She’s his ideal.

I feel a war of emotions all at once. Witless—and yes, jealous—I decide against going to the bar, and I grit my teeth as I head back to our table.

Why the hell am I bothered that Tom’s talking to the blonde?

For the same reason I was bothered by him flirting with Ashlee.

I glance at Ashlee, and she looks seriously pissed at losing Tom to some random bar chick.

She’s jealous just like I am.

God, it would be funny if it wasn’t so depressing.

“I got you another drink,” Cale says, handing me a fresh beer.

“Thanks.” I smile at him gratefully as I sit down.

“Ly,” Sonny catches my attention. “We were just saying, it looks like Tom will be getting some tonight. I thought he’d be doing Ashlee, but I’m thinking it’s gonna be this chick at the bar. About time, if you ask me. He’s been low-key since we got on the road. It’s time Tom got in the game. Looks like you’re giving up the bedroom tonight.” Sonny nudges my arm, grinning.

I’m instantly irritated. Mix that with jealously and you’ve one very sour Lyla.

Over my dead body. Tom is not screwing her in my bed tonight—or ever.

Giving a noncommittal shrug, I turn away and gulp down a mouthful of beer.

“Another five minutes,” Van says, “and Tom will be out of here and banging her. Lucky bastard. She’s hot as hell.”

“Five minutes?” Sonny laughs. “More like two.”

I’m blaming the beer for the next words out of my mouth. “I bet you fifty dollars that Tom doesn’t have sex with that blonde tonight.”

What am I doing? Stop, Lyla. Stop now.

But I can’t stop because I’ve said it, and now, Sonny is glaring at me with his gambling face on.

If there’s one thing that Sonny can’t resist, aside from women, it is a bet.

“One hundred dollars,” Sonny drawls. “Because I’m that fucking sure he will.”

“Done.” I stick my hand out.

Sonny shakes it. “You’re gonna be changing your bedsheets in the morning,” he incites. “And I’m gonna be a hundred bucks up.”