Page 32 of Covert Affections (Shadow Agents/PSI-Ops #5)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Lindy

“So, about Mr. Wet Panty Material,” Lindy said, raising a brow and jerking her chin in Blond-Guy’s direction.

He was standing in a spot that left one of the many signs Teresa had in the bar showing.

This one read, “Bad decisions served daily!” And he was without a doubt a bad decision waiting to happen.

Charley glanced over at him with barely more than mild interest. “Yes. He’s very nice to look at,” she said with a shrug, her voice low.

Lindy leaned forward, exasperated. “Nice? That’s all? Oh CJ. Look harder. He’s in his prime,” she said, adding a playful growl for good measure.

Charley groaned again, rubbing her forehead like she had a headache. “Fine. Yes. But he’s not my type.”

Lindy rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. “Because he walks on two legs, not four? Girl, you’d date a horse if it was socially acceptable.”

That finally got a laugh out of Charley. She nudged Lindy with her elbow. “Stop. I love horses, but not like that.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Lindy said, grinning. “Why am I thinking if centaurs were real, you’d be all over them?”

For some reason, Charley stiffened at that. Lindy raised a brow, but before she could press, Charley shot back, “Probably because you’re a crappy best friend.”

Lindy cackled, letting the subject drop. “Okay, focus. Pick three.”

Charley turned to her, brandishing the pen like a knife. “Three? That sounds like a night you’d enjoy. Not me.”

“You have no fear,” Lindy said, keeping her voice low so only Charley could hear. “Yet when it comes to sex, you’re so repressed. Go wild, Charley. Have a threesome. Hell, a foursome. I’m not sure what it’s called above that. You’d think I’d know.”

Blond-Guy chuckled again from across the room. Lindy grinned at him, her amusement growing. The man clearly had good ears. Charley, meanwhile, was glaring daggers.

“Pretty sure you’d call it a slow Friday night,” Charley muttered, leveling her best death stare at Lindy.

“Did you just call me a whore?” Lindy asked, her tone full of mock offense.

“Yep.”

“Cool. I’m fine with that. Now pick three, or I’ll do it for you.”

Charley snorted, finally giving the room another scan. “Please tell me the post didn’t include the promise of sex.”

Lindy winced and quickly looked away. She might have hinted at it in the post but she’d never outright said it.

Charley gasped, sitting up straighter. “Lindy, fix this. Now.”

“Fine,” Lindy said, throwing her hands up before raising her voice so that everyone in the room could hear.

“I might have made a mistake in the posting. If you’re here for a chance to bag my super-hot, super-single, but super-repressed best friend —who I may or may not have posted a picture of with the job listing—it’s more than likely not happening. ”

Charley’s foot connected with Lindy’s shin under the table.

Lindy yelped. “Ouch! Fine. That part of the offer is totally off the table,” she added, mumbling, “for now.”

More men started filing out of the room. Charley glared at her again, her voice tight. “You’re showing me that post later.”

Lindy pulled out her rhinestone-covered phone, tapping away furiously, deleting the evidence as she did. “Oh gee, would you look at that? I accidentally deleted it. I’m all thumbs. Sorry.”

“You’re anything but sorry,” Charley shot back.

Lindy shrugged. “No one else would understand that you like animals more than people—a lot more than people—and all your other quirks.” She pushed the cupcake toward her friend.

Charley rolled her eyes. “Quirks? What quirks?”

“Dude, you’re a real-life Eliza Doolittle,” Lindy said, only realizing after the words left her mouth that she might’ve meant Dr. Dolittle. Whatever. Same difference.

“Dr. Dolittle,” Charley corrected.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Lindy asked, distracted as she snuck another glance at Blond-Guy.

“How is your Cockney?” asked Charley with a snort.

Lindy’s gaze whipped to Charley. “My cock what?”

It was clear that Charley was fighting to keep from laughing. “Nothing. Go back to eye-screwing the blond dude. I’ll be thinking about the rain in Spain.”

Confused, Lindy’s brows scrunched. “You are so freaking weird. But I love you.”

“Thanks,” Charley said.

Their banter was cut short when the bar doors opened, and Lindy’s jaw nearly hit the table. Sure, the cowboy-themed speed-dating—er, hiring—event had gotten off to a decent start, but now things were getting downright interesting.

Two men walked in, and it took every ounce of self-control not to laugh out loud. They were the kind of guys you had to see to believe. Lindy’s sharp eyes scanned them from head to toe, taking in every bizarre detail like she was saving it to replay later.

Because she was.

The older guy of the two men, who had to be in his mid to late sixties, putting him a good thirty years older than most of the other candidates, was rocking a crop-top T-shirt that said, “Save a Horse, Ride a Cow-Bill.” His hairy belly peeked out from under it, unapologetically hanging over a pair of red corduroy pants that were tucked into leather chaps with fringe, of course.

A vest with a toy sheriff’s badge and a Clint Eastwood-style cowboy hat completed the look.

His wiry gray hair poked out from under the hat like he’d just rolled out of bed—or maybe rolled down a hill.

As if that man wasn’t interesting enough on his own, the guy who had come with him, who didn’t look to be out of his twenties and stood a good head taller, and thin, took the cake.

Lindy had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

The taller man had on a ten-gallon cowboy hat and a western dress shirt covered in sequins, embroidered flowers, and fringe.

It might’ve been classy if it hadn’t been paired with cutoff jean shorts so short that Lindy was pretty sure physics was the only thing keeping him decent.

And to top it all off—literally—he wore bright yellow rain boots with spurs attached.

Lindy almost missed the straw cowboy hat dangling upside down by a string, containing what appeared to be a beat-up mannequin head.

“Holy crap,” she breathed, unable to look away. “It’s like the circus and the rodeo had babies.”

Charley looked at her as if expecting answers, her eyes narrowing. “What in the hell did the post say?”

Lindy just shrugged, still marveling at the newcomers. “This is great. But I went from wet to drier than ever.”

“Do you know them?” Charley asked, her tone laced with caution.

Lindy tilted her head, her dark brows furrowing slightly. “No clue who they are, but I’m loving their outfits.”

Charley, on the other hand, looked about ready to bolt. “I’m not sure what to say.”

Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Lindy raised her voice, waving them over. “Tell me you’re here for the jobs!”

Charley’s foot shot out again, clearly aiming for a kick, but Lindy was faster. She slid her legs out of reach, smirking. Her poor best friend just didn’t know how to have fun anymore.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lindy caught Blond-Guy shifting. He uncrossed his ankles and straightened up, his gaze locked on the newcomers. For a moment, Lindy thought he looked a little predatory—but she brushed it off.

The older guy puffed up his chest and stared right back at Blond-Guy. The taller man, meanwhile, was swaying back and forth by the wall, cradling the mannequin head like a baby.

Lindy wasn’t sure what was going on between the three men but definitely wanted to know their story.

Finally, the older man spoke up, his voice carrying through the bar.

“Heard you were hiring ranch hands.” He patted his belly for emphasis, and the sound echoed.

Lindy had to press her lips together to keep from laughing.

“We’re here for the positions. I’ve ridden too many horses to count.

And I can ride anything else you got. Like right before we got here, I was ridin’ a musk ox and chasing a wolf—kind of.

I’ve ridden a mechanical elephant once too.

Figure if you can ride that stuff, you can ride anything.

Oh, I’m Wild Bill, or Bill for short. My buddy here is Gus.

He don’t talk much. We want to be paid with milkshakes and grilled cheese sandwiches, and we need somewhere to sleep.

Gus says I have to include showers in the list of demands too.

They ain’t a deal breaker for me though. When do we start?”

Lindy couldn’t resist anymore. She pulled out her phone, snapping a picture before Charley could stop her.

Charley elbowed her hard. “Stop.”

“What? This moment needed to be captured,” Lindy said innocently. Then she pursed her lips, mock-serious. “Um, don’t pick them to be part of your threesome. Maybe just do it with the blond dude. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and he’s hung like a horse—since you like those so much.”

Charley glared at her, but Lindy wasn’t paying attention.

Blond-Guy’s gaze had shifted back to Charley, and Lindy’s grin faltered.

There was something about the way he looked at her—intense, almost…

dangerous? For the first time all evening, Lindy felt a little chill run down her spine. He wasn’t dangerous, was he?

The feeling passed as quickly as it came, though, and Lindy shook it off. Probably just her imagination.

Bill, meanwhile, had fixed his attention on Blond-Guy, his chest puffed out like a rooster. “You can go now. And we got the hookup on a guy who really is hung like a horse for her. We’re getting the jobs. Gus said so.”

Lindy nearly spit out the sip of water she’d just taken.

Blond-Guy raised an eyebrow, his voice calm but with a definite edge. “Gus doesn’t say much of anything, does he?”

Bill strode right up to Blond-Guy and poked him in the chest. Considering Bill was nearly a foot shorter, the sight was absolutely ridiculous. “You trying to say something about my best buddy?”

Lindy leaned back in her chair, thoroughly entertained. Charley, however, stood up, looking ready to jump in if things got ugly. Blond-Guy didn’t seem fazed. He just stared down at Bill, pursing his lips like he was considering something.

“Nope,” Blond-Guy finally said, his tone casual, his gaze holding a dark edge. “Just saying he’s quiet. That’s all.”

Bill stepped back, a look of triumph on his face, like he’d just gone ten rounds with a grizzly and won. “We gonna get this show on the road or what, Chuck-Wagon?”

Lindy blinked, her grin returning. “Come again?”

Bill hooked his thumbs into the top of his chaps, looking at her like she was the strange one. “You don’t know your own friend’s name?”

“You mean Charley?” Lindy asked, tipping her head. “Did I call her Charley since you got here? I normally just call her CJ.”

Bill grinned wide. “I call her Chuck-Wagon.”

Charley, to Lindy’s surprise, actually started laughing. “Chuck is a form of Charles, Lindy. Chuck wagons are Western things. I have a horse rescue. Get it?”

Bill beamed like a kid who’d just been told he was teacher’s pet. “Gus said we’d be good friends. You get me, Chuck.”

Lindy laughed too, shaking her head. Whoever these two were, they were absolute gold.