Page 61 of Ruthless Raiders

“Nah, I’m so sorry, babydoll,” she drawls, leaning in close across the vinyl diner booth, eyes sparkling. “I’m gonna have to take that Texan card. Gimme that badge.”

“Excuseme!” I shriek, eyes wide, scandalized in the most dramatic way possible.

“No true Texan hates barbeque.”

“No!” I shoot back. “No true Texancan’t ride a horse.”

“I beg your pardon, darlin’,” Jasmine says, tilting her head and lowering her voice into something wicked and smooth, “but I’m not the one whorides.”

I choke on my milkshake. “So what—you’re a pillow princess?”

She grins like the devil herself, slow and smug. “Nope.” She takes a bite of her fry, chews, swallows. “I’m atop.”

I blink. Once. Twice.

And then I burst into laughter, slapping the table hard enough to make our fries jump.

Jasmine leans back like she’s proud of herself, which—she should be. Because I’m flushed, grinning, and more than a little flustered.

“God help me,” I mutter, reaching for a napkin. “That’s some nasty talk for the dinner table.”

“Oh, then you donotwant to know what’s going on in my head,” Jasmine purrs, leaning even closer, her voice dripping with slow,teasing heat. Her gaze trails lazily down my body, and my knee knocks under the table like I’ve been physically struck.

She’s looking at me like I’m dessert.

And just when I’m convinced she’s about to lean across the table and kiss me—right here, in this godforsaken diner, in front of God and the ketchup bottles?—

Thebuggerbehind hersnorts.

And by bugger, I meanLandon, whoinsistedon tagging along for our date in the name of "Jasmine's protection."

Jasmine’s eyes close like a glitch in the system, her head dropping forward with a pained little sigh. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Baby,” I whisper, reaching across the table to tap her hand with mine, “I got a shotgun and access to at least three undisclosed backroads. We can make it look like a hunting accident.”

“Is it too early to say I love you?” Jasmine mutters, lips twitching.

“I believe that’s step one to a U-Haul?”

“No one’s moving in,” Landon drones from the booth behind us, not even bothering to turn around.

Jasmine leans back and glares in his direction, voice dropping into a growl. “So help me, Landon, if I hear your voice one more time, Iwillpull your larynx out and play jump rope with it.”

“Ouch,Peach,” he pouts, finally turning in the booth next to ours and placing a hand dramatically over his heart while the other hangs over the edge of the chair onto our date side. “You aresomean to your side piece.”

“Side piece?” I choke, blinking. “You proudly want to already take a backseat to me.”

“I mean,” Landon shrugs, “I was herefirst,but I can’t really compete with the red hair, hazel eyes coke-bottle body combo can I?”

“No you can’t, can you?” I smirk, flipping my hair to the back.

“I mean I do have a huge--”

Jasmine grabs a fry and flings it at his head. “I swear to God?—”

“It’s okay,” I say, laughing as I grab another fry from her plate. “He and his huge ears can be the flower girl at our shotgun wedding.”

Landon opens his mouth, but Jasmine is faster. “I think you’ll look pretty in a flowered dress, don’t you?”