Page 38 of Covert Affections (Shadow Agents/PSI-Ops #5)

Lindy wasn’t sure what to say, mostly because she still wasn’t sure what in the hell the man was talking about.

At last check, Charley didn’t have a dog.

Even if she suddenly did, Lindy highly doubted it farted more than Bill.

She stared down at him. “Bill, it’s not okay that you let yourself back here or that you made nachos.

There are safety issues and I can’t have just anyone in the kitchen area, making whatever they want. ”

He proved her point about the farts by letting one rip. He squeaked, his eyes widening. “Sorry. That snuck out.”

She eased back slightly, more to avoid the foul smell engulfing him. “Bill.”

He groaned. “You ain’t gotta worried. I’m qualified to be back here.”

Somehow, she doubted that.

He glanced around the kitchen and then back to her. “I think I’ve been hitting the good stuff too much lately.”

She looked around too, wondering what he was talking about. Aside from the mess he’d made, nothing was amiss.

He met her gaze. “Ever feel like you’ve been somewhere before? Like you know it like the back of your hand?”

She shrugged.

“Did this bar used to be in Reno?” he asked fast, worry coating his face.

She snorted. “Uh, no. It’s been here for decades. It’s older than I am.”

“Most things are,” he said flatly, giving her a once over. “Everybody looks like a teenager at my age.”

“You’re what? Sixty?” she asked, less angry about him being in her kitchen unsupervised than she should be.

“Sure. We’ll go with that.” He stepped over the discarded pots and pans.

“I’ll clean this up later. Right now, I gotta fuel up.

Then I gotta prove I’m a champion bull rider.

My reputation is on the line. Can’t go having Car-Ber-Ate-Tor or his doppelg?nger Little Bo Mac stealing my title. Know what I mean?”

“I can safely say that I have no idea what you mean,” said Lindy, as she began picking up the pots and pans. She put them on the prep table and followed Bill as he exited the kitchen into the main bar area.

Bill glanced toward Teddy and did a weird hip-shimmy thing.

Lindy was about to ask if they knew each other but the tired expression that came over Teddy’s face said he knew Bill.

“Hey, Teddy Foreskin, miss me?” asked Bill, heading right for the already occupied barstool next to Teddy. Bill stared at the man in it, much like Teddy had with the other man. Bill didn’t have the same imposing frame as Teddy, so the man in the seat didn’t pay attention to him.

Bill set his nachos on top of the bar and jammed his pinkie finger into his ear. He wiggled it around, pulled out a glob of earwax and licked it off his finger right before he ripped a fart so loud and long that it could be heard over the music.

The man on the barstool gagged and pounded on his chest. “Oh God. I can taste it.”

With pride on his face, Bill nodded. “It’s like a full course meal. Wait until you get to the beans. They’re a coming. You missed the appetizers. They were in my kitchen fart.”

Not only did that man vacate his seat, the man on his other side did as well.

Bill continued to smile as he climbed up and onto the barstool. He wasn’t exactly tall and seated next to Teddy, he looked as if he needed a booster chair. That or a straitjacket. She wouldn’t be surprised if men in white doctor coats with butterfly nets showed for him.

Teddy groaned loudly and proceeded to polish off his beer as he sat at the bar. He lifted a brow as he glanced at Lindy and then the tap that she’d filled his beer from.

She nodded, understanding he wanted a refill, but wouldn’t be shocked if he moved to something stronger now that he had Bill to contend with.

He leaned slightly and refilled his glass with beer.

The rank smell of Bill’s fart reached Lindy and she coughed. “Bill!”

He blushed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend, but it’s better out than in. It’s my motto. Well that and always beat your meat before bed. Two rules every man should live by.”

Teddy closed his eyes and for a moment seemed to be praying.

“What are you doing, Smokey?” asked Bill, scooping up another handful of nachos.

“Hoping lightning strikes me or something,” said Teddy. “Anything that gets me away from you.”

Bill chuckled. “You ain’t that lucky.”

“I’m aware,” returned Teddy, deadpan.

Bill nodded to Lindy. “Can I get a beer? None of that IPA shit either. And no foreign shit.” He held his hand up to his mouth on the side Teddy was on, as if his hand would block Teddy from hearing before he said, “And no damn German shit.”

Teddy shook his head, appearing tired.

Lindy hid her laugh and grabbed a glass, filling it with beer from the tap. She gave it to Bill.

The already loud crowd managed to get louder. Whistles and catcalls filled the place.

Teddy glanced at her like she had a clue what was happening.

She shrugged.

Bill rolled his eyes. “The Double-Douche Twins are taking their turns on the mechanical bull. Women are creaming themselves, but that’s only because they ain’t seen me have a go at it yet.”

“The double who?” asked Lindy.

“Mac and Car,” supplied Teddy before drinking more of his beer.

Lindy nodded but his explanation really didn’t clear up anything. She didn’t know any Mac or Car.

“Holy hell, they’re hot!” yelled someone that sounded shockingly like Waverly.

“Lass, care to take a ride on a Scotsman?” asked a heavily accented deep voice from the center of the bar—where the mechanical bull was located.

“Get yer own girl, brother,” said a matching voice. “I saw her first.”

“Och, kiss my arse,” returned the first.

Teddy finished his second beer and sighed loudly. He met her gaze, sliding his glass toward her.

Lindy didn’t need to be asked. She took the glass and refilled it for him. At the rate the night was going, she might very well join him and pour herself one too.

Not that she was much of a drinker.

Teddy nodded his thanks.

Bill looked him up and down. “No fair that you and your buddies can drink a bunch and not get loaded. Then again, it’s expensive to get you shit faced.

I’m what they call a cheap date.” He leaned in toward Teddy.

“I got some good shit in my pocket. Want a hit? Pretty sure it will knock your socks off. Fair warning, it may or may not make you think you’ve been here before and that this is Reno. ”

Teddy glanced sideways at the small man. “I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself,” Bill said, eating more nachos.

Teddy’s gaze slid to the plate of food. His nostrils flared. “What in the hell is that?”

Bill mumbled something that sounded vaguely like “so good” and kept eating.

The women in the bar began to scream and yell more, cheering on someone or something. The crowd went wild.

Lindy gave up and walked around the end of the bar, her intention to make her way to the bull area. The crowd was too thick. She went to her tiptoes, trying to see. It didn’t work. She glanced at the bar and considered climbing onto it for a better view.

Suddenly, Teddy was there. He met her gaze. “Need a lift?”

Lindy opened her mouth to tell him there was no way he’d be able to lift her. She was hardly dainty. She was plus-size and proud of it.

He had his hands on her hips and lifted her up and onto the bar top before she could so much as blink.

“T-thank you!” She gasped and moved her arms to balance herself.

Teddy returned to his barstool.

Bill munched happily on his nachos before putting his arms up toward Teddy. “Uppies. Lift me! I wanna see.”

“Eat your food before I throw it away. Smells like shit,” said Teddy with a huff.

Bill sniffed his nachos and shook his head. “Nah. That ain’t my chips that smell like that, man. Probably residual from my fart.”

The first thing Lindy did with the better vantage point was search the bar for any signs of the blond from the man-meat market—Jesse. She didn’t see him in the mix. She then looked across the sea of people and spotted a hulk of a man on the mechanical bull as it thrashed him around.

The man was in a T-shirt and a kilt of all things, which he’d paired with biker boots. He was covered in tattoos and piercings and had a head of long ink-black hair and a matching closely clipped beard.

She could see what all the fuss was about.

He was very good-looking. Book boyfriend kind of hot—then again, so were most of the men who had been coming into the bar the last few weeks.

Though, none of them had been in kilts. She made a mental note of adding kilts to her kink list and grinned, trying to decide if she liked gray sweatpants or kilts more. Not that either choice was wrong.

From the winks and smiles the man on the bull was giving the women around him, he knew he was damn sexy.

Waverly was close to him, watching as he rode the bull.

Next to her was a man who was nearly identical to the first but wearing jeans in place of a kilt. He didn’t look thrilled with the attention his brother was getting.

“Get off the damn thing, Car,” said the man in jeans, accent equally as thick. “It’s my turn.”

Car was ejected from the bull and landed on the mat, his kilt flying up, showing the world what he came equipped with. It was very impressive.

Lindy’s eyes widened. “Guess that answers the age-old question about what Scotsmen wear under their kilts.”

Oddly, her darkness didn’t flare at the sight of the man’s junk, despite it being on full display. Worry crept into the back of her mind. It wasn’t acting like itself and she shuddered to think of what that might mean. Was it too busy plotting world domination to notice hunky man-meat?

“Not a damn thing,” said Bill with a grumble before saying something about kilts. “No fair they get to be hung like horses. I put my time in with testing. All I got was high.”

She didn’t bother trying to decode what he was saying.

The door to the bar opened and hope surged through Lindy that it might be Jesse. Her darkness even seemed to wait, hoping it was him.

It wasn’t.

It was a very attractive man who was wearing designer clothing. His long dark hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck. As the door began to close behind him, Lindy caught sight of lightning flashing and rain falling. She wasn’t aware it was raining let alone storming.

When the man’s dark gaze slid across the bar, landing on her, her darkness took notice. It didn’t push her to use him for sex. It slipped the smallest of warnings to her—he was more than he appeared to be.

Dark.

Dangerous.

Deadly.

More than human for sure.

But no threat to her.

Interesting.

Teresa and Robert would be proud of her for finally noticing a supernatural.

“Armand!” someone yelled, catching the newcomer’s attention.

“Anybody work in this dump?” asked a tall, loud man from the end of the bar.

Lindy’s gaze snapped to him. She bent to slide off the bar top but Teddy stood quickly and came for her, helping her down before quietly walking to the end of the bar, where the obnoxious patron was.

He stood there, staring at the man.

Whatever the obnoxious guy saw left him turning and tucking tail.

Lindy laughed. Teresa would love Teddy. Heck, she might have even let the man hold her bat.