Page 81 of Bad Blood

“Tell me a joke,” I say suddenly, and then I blush, realizing how forward that sounded.

“Are you okay?” he says, frowning down at me.

“It’s not a come-on, I swear,” I stammer. “When I was a kid, my friend used to try and make me laugh with bad jokes all the time.” I shrug helplessly. “I guess I could use that right now.”

He side-eyes me with a slow grin. “A joke, huh?” Leaning across the counter, he nods and accepts my challenge. “Okay then, two guys walk into a bar… The third guy ducks.”

It’s way too stupid to be funny, but I find myself laughing anyway.

Or I do until a fist comes flying past my face and slams into Andrew’s jaw before he has a chance to duck himself.

“Get the fuck out of my casino!” Santi roars, taking the polished counter like he’s Bo Duke fromDukes of Hazzardsliding across the hood of a car, as Andrew reels backward into a shelf of vodkas.

“Santi, stop!” I scream, climbing up onto the bar myself to try and haul him away, but it’s like trying to calm an angry wasp. The harder I try, the more stings keep raining down on the bartender.

“Did he touch you?” He whirls around suddenly and catches my chin in a vise-like grip. His face is blazing. His touch, savage.

“Oh my God,are you jealous?” I gasp out.

“You’re mine, Thalia Carrera,” he growls. “That fucking ring on your finger proves it.”

“A piece of metal proves nothing! I’m filing for an annulment unless you hire Andrew back right away.”

“First name basis with the staff, already? Youdomove fast, Thalia.”

“In five days, I’ll be fucking sprinting out of this place. See how fast I move then!”

Mouthing an apology to Andrew who’s holding the left side of his jaw and looking dazed, I push backward to free myself, vowing to speak to Lola as soon as I can about her brother’s unreasonable behavior. If Andrew isn’t rehired within twenty-four hours, I’ll do more than fill his bottles ofGran Patrón Burdeos Añejoup with water.

“Thalia Carrera, come back here,” I hear him thunder as I reach the entrance to the bar.

Ignoring him, I flick my middle finger up as anau revoirand then wait for the thunder of angry footsteps to follow me.

He catches up as I’m stepping into the elevator.

“Leave me alone,” I grit out, as he barges into the carriage after me, crowding me into a corner as the doorsdingshut.

“Did he touch you?” he repeats as the carriage starts to rise—along with the temperature inside it.

“I asked him to tell me a joke,” I respond, bitterly. “I didn’t expect my husband to be thepunchline.”

It’s a great pun, but neither of us are in a laughing mood right now.

“You’re lying!”

“And you’re the King ofLoco!” I say, jabbing my finger into his chest.

“The,what?”

“It’s the name I’ve been calling you in my head since the day we met. You make these crazy, mad decisions all the time, and only you can see the logic. Is it true you’re going to open casinos in New York now that Uncle Rick’s bill passed through the Senate?”

“Oh,hija de tu puta madre!” he spits out. “Don’t say it like you care about my safety.”

“You’re right; I don’t!”

Our chests are heaving in time with each others’ now. We’re standing so close, we’re creating our own friction from the movement.

I can feel his hard erection pressing up against my stomach. My nipples are like bullets.