“I swear that woman is a four-letter word that rhymes with runt, and—”

“Gemma, look who’s here!” she shouted.

I froze a few feet from the table at the sight of a tall man sitting with Pen. Lifting her face, she gave me an apologetic look and mouthed, “I tried to call you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded. Bearded, with a dark buzz cut that I knew grew out into curls, Linc Connelly was probably the best thing I’d laid eyes on all day.

He stood up, holding his arms out wide. “I wasn’t going to miss your birthday,” he announced when I nearly knocked him over tackling him. He wrapped me up tightly, keeping our crotches from touching as he smooshed his lips to my cheek in a brotherly kiss. When he leaned me away from him, his smooth forehead was wrinkled.

“You’ve been crying.”

I brushed my fingers over the spot where his lips touched, finding it slightly damp. In my periphery, I saw Pen’s face screw up in concern, and although I’d probably tell her everything later, it wasn’t possible to say anything with Linc standing nearby.

In a day full of excuses, what could one more hurt?

“I poked myself in the eye with my mascara,” I said. “So, no, you don’t have to shoot anyone today, Agent Connelly.”

I shot him the mandatory dirty look, and he stifled a laugh. “You shouldn’t put on makeup and drive.”

“But,” Pen chimed in loudly from behind us, and we both looked at her, “you should probably get dressed.”

“Penelope,” I groaned, and she scratched the peacock on her left shoulder and grinned sheepishly.

“I didn’t know he was coming, and there’s no way I’m cancelling our plans.” Hopping up from the table, she wiggled her eyebrows at her brother. “Sorry, Asshat, but it looks like you’re DD tonight.”

*

A couple hours later, I swirled my beer, watching as my best friend danced against a redheaded guy beneath the flashing lights at the appropriately named Club Chaos. The line waiting out front had stretched around the corner, and though she’d explained to her brother and me that she’d had our names on the list for weeks, I had a feeling she’d used her special skills to get us a spot tonight.

Linc had given her a ghost of a smile, but it was obvious he wasn’t buying her excuse either.

“When does your friend come back to town?” he asked me, dragging my focus from the dance floor. I had no idea the extent of what his sister had told him about our stay in California, and I rested my elbows on the table.

“By Christmas, I hope.”

“You plan on coming home then, even if he’s not back.”

“Maybe.”

He placed his own elbows on the table and leaned in close to me, his jade green eyes dancing with amusement. “Did Penelope let you know, she told me you were out here apartment-sitting for one of your female colleagues?”

Dammit. I hated lying to him—loathed it almost as much as not giving Pen the entire truth—and I felt like shit when I offered him a hesitant smile. “Maybe I didn’t want you to worry about me. Did you stop to think that might be why I asked her to tell you that?”

He wore a skeptical look when he rested his shoulders to the red leather booth. “What’s she up to, Gem?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I know my sister like the back of my damn hand. I can tell when she’s up to something.”

“Calm your tits, Agent Connelly,” I teased, sounding so much like Pen that he couldn’t help but grin. “She’s not up to anything besides working like crazy on some new software her company’s launching next year.”

A lot of that was the truth. Although I had no idea what she was doing for August, I knew she’d been doing legitimate work for her job back in Vegas.

Tilting his head to the side, Linc scratched his scruffy chin. “You know I’ll always help both of you,” he said carefully, and I rolled my eyes theatrically in response so that he’d see it beneath the dark booth lighting. “Are you sure my sister’s not into anything sketchy?”

“She’s being perfectly—” To my relief, Pen picked that exact moment to shimmy over to our booth and slam down next to her brother. “Having fun?”

“Not as much fun as if you were dancing with me!” she sang, and my lip twitched. I had no plans to dance when I came in here, but with Linc’s eyes burning a hole into the side of my face, I turned to him. “Can you keep an eye on my drink?”

For a few seconds, he studied me closely, and I felt my chest hammer under the scrutiny. From the day he first stepped foot in my life six years ago, I’d never been very good at lying to him, and he always saw right through me. Then he nodded and turned to his sister with a forced chuckle.

“You just brought me here just to watch your stuff.”

Grabbing my hand, she smirked. “I feel a little less bad now that you realize it.” She urged me out of the booth. “Be back in a few, big brother!”

I felt myself relax completely as soon as we stepped out onto the floor and I moved my hips to the sound of Halestorm’s rendition of The Beatles’ “I Want You.” Spotting Linc, who was already on his phone, I gave him a little wave and turned my back to him. “Thank you,” I told Pen, widening my eyes in relief.

Swinging her hair over one shoulder, she gave me a pointed look. “Alright, spill it. You came in earlier looking like someone mugged you after pissing on your shoes. What happened?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. I showed up to work to find that Margaret wasn’t who called me this morning, and—”

Her eyes bulging, Pen’s slim fingers cupped both of my shoulders. “Hold on, what?”

“I’m pretty sure Oliver’s ex-girlfriend was who called.” I still hadn’t figured out what to do about Finley, but there was no way I was letting it go. No matter who she was. At Pen’s disgusted face, I danced around her, whispering in her ear, “And then a picture of Oliver and me made the front page of a lifestyle website.”

She caught my hand and looked over her shoulder. “You didn’t tell me you were with Mr. Sex-In-A-Suit last night.”

“I wasn’t with him, I just bumped into him and we talked for a few minutes.” During which he proceeded to drive my body absolutely crazy with his mouth and fingers, but that was beside the point. “So, of course, Margaret flipped out and let me know how she feels about me being around her son.”

For close to a minute, Pen was quiet, letting the guitar solo in the middle of the song play. She bobbed her head to the music, but I knew she was absorbing what I’d told her so far. When the vocals resumed, she questioned, “And, let me guess, the stepmonster had something to say about that?”

I felt my phone vibrate in its spot between my breasts, but I ignored it. “She doesn’t want gold-diggers like the Russian whore my dad used to be married to sinking their claws into Oliver.” Saying those words aloud sent acid rushing to the back of my throat, and I swallowed it down and blinked hard.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that Pen’s mouth was parted, and she had a horrified look on her face.

“She said that to you?” Her voice was lowered to an angry growl. “She actually sat in front of you and said that?”

“And she didn’t even flinch.”

Her nostrils flared, and she was about to say something else, but a hand on my shoulder made her pause. I looked behind me to see a perfectly-coiffed blond man—the type of guy who used to be my type—and yet, I felt nothing as I smiled at him politely.

He moved his mouth close to my ear. “I was watching you—”

“She’d love to,” Pen practically shouted, shoving me against him.

Although I kept dancing, I glowered at my best friend, who responded with a shit-eating grin. “It’s your birthday,” she leaned forward and whispered. “You deserve a little fun.”

And as I danced with the good-looking blond and my best friend, letting the sexy, repetitive lyrics move through my body, I realized she was right. I needed to escape being Lizzie for one night.