Avery frowned. “Maybe you two will bump into the woman you took climbing today.”

She closed her eyes, wishing she could retract her childish, jealous remark. Her cheeks heated, and only grew warmer when she opened her eyes and saw Grey’s smirk.

“You’re wondering if she was pretty, aren’t you?” He tilted his head and smiled the warmest, most sincere smile she’d seen. “Truthfully, she was cute. But no one’s as cute as you, Bambi. I’m not Matt. You can trust me, okay?”

“I trust you. I just don’t trust her, or other women—or that gigolo of a best friend you’ve got dragging you around town.”

“Don’t rag on my buddy. He’s not forcing anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. As far as I can tell, so far everyone’s been plenty happy with the arrangement.”

“Hmph.” Avery grimaced, imagining Trip and Grey together, surrounded by women eager to seduce either man. “Maybe it’s a little early to discuss this,” she said, gesturing between them while hating the catch in her voice, “but I’m assuming we’re exclusive. I mean, we’re together now, right?”

“Damn straight we are.” Grey glared at her, apparently aggravated by the mere thought of her running around with anyone else. He hugged her tight against his body. “You’re mine.”

Avery didn’t enjoy being thought of as a possession. However Grey’s Neanderthal declaration curled her toes in a good way.

“Don’t worry about tonight.” Grey kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s just beer and pool.”

“Famous last words.”

Chapter Eighteen

Later that evening, Grey followed Trip into Grizzly’s, then shuffled up to the bar, antique wood floors creaking beneath his every step. Hammered copper trims and smoky mirrors gave the old bar a rosy glow. Too bad it stank like stale beer. Thankfully the place was fairly empty, which meant Trip might not want to stick around too long.

“Two Red Rockets.” Trip slid a twenty on the bar and took a seat next to Grey. “Hey, buddy, if you’re gonna make it as my wingman, you need to smile a little.”

“I’m here for a beer and round of pool. Period.” The last thing Grey needed was to be stuck in the middle of Trip and a group of rabid women.

When the bartender arrived with their drinks, Grey might not have noticed him had the guy not gawked while handing him a bottle. The tall blond looked familiar, but it took another minute for Grey to work out where he’d seen him. More importantly, why he remembered that face at all. Matt.

Apparently Avery’s ex really had decided to move back to town. Possessiveness coiled around Grey’s chest like a python. He sized Matt up when the guy turned his back. Matt looked to be an inch or two taller than him, well built, and probably considered good-looking by women. An unwelcome image of Avery wrapped in that man’s arms drifted through his mind, kicking open a nest of fire ants in his gut.

That jerk knew how Avery looked when she got fired up. Knew how she sounded when she laughed real low. Knew how she looked naked. Worst of all, Matt knew how she felt cradled against his skin. Push it aside.

Trip, who clearly didn’t recognize Matt, raised his bottle in a toast. “To living single and drinking double.”

“Original?” Grey clanked his bottle and took a swig, hoping the cold beer would dilute the acid in his stomach. Yet Matt’s presence loomed behind them, causing the hairs on Grey’s body to prickle.

“Nah.” Trip sipped his beer, eyeing the young guys playing pool in the corner. “David Lee Roth.”

“That’s random as hell.” Grey focused on his friend rather than obsess about Avery and Matt’s past. It was, after all, her past—and a painful one, at that.

Trip shrugged and adjusted his cowboy hat, his wolflike gaze inspecting the few women in the joint. Grey knew a few things about his friend. One: Trip wasn’t interested in a relationship that lasted more than a few hours, so a great personality wasn’t a draw. Two: the guy had a definite preference for blondes, preferably ones with big boobs and long legs. And three: all the women in the bar were garden-variety brunettes who, while possibly being great women, wouldn’t capture Trip’s interest tonight.

Given his knowledge, Grey wasn’t surprised when Trip turned to Matt and asked, “Where the hell are all the women?”

“Probably hiding from you.” Matt delivered the line in a playful tone, but Grey caught a whiff of malice.

Hypocrisy must be another of that lousy cheater’s traits.

“Oh joy. A frustrated stand-up comic working as a bartender.” Trip smiled, and pulled another long draw from his bottle. Few men seemed as comfortable in their own skin as Trip. He might be a bit of a cad with women, but he was honest with them and fun to be around, so Grey knew Trip didn’t give a shit about Matt’s opinion. Or anyone else’s.

“I’m going to investigate the situation at the pool table. See if we can barge in on the game.” Trip glanced at Grey’s knee. “Wanna come, or stay put until it’s time to play?”

“Stay put.” Either way would be uncomfortable, but curiosity kept Grey parked in front of Matt. Avery had believed she’d loved this guy at some point, and Grey wanted to figure out why. Especially if Matt actually intended to try to woo her back. If Grey had to fight for Avery, he needed to know his enemy.

The minute Trip sauntered away, Matt crossed to the sink closest to where Grey sat.

“Looks like you’re babying that knee. Do something to hurt it recently?” Matt cleaned a glass, keeping his eyes on his work.

Grey had never had much interest in playing games with people. Now he knew Matt had a sneaky side. No great shock, considering his history, and how he played the whole Outpost thing with Avery and her brother. Grey despised sneaky. Did Avery like sneaky? “I know who you are, so you can drop the phony banter. If you’ve got something to say, say it plain.”

Matt held up his hands. “Relax, Lowell. I’m just making small talk.”

Grey glanced over his shoulder at Trip before finishing his beer. His grandfather once taught him the best way to win a battle of wits was to stay quiet long enough to let the other guy hang himself. He’d followed that good advice for most of his life. No reason to stop now.

“I’m surprised you’re here trolling for action with your partner instead of spending time with Avery.” Matt rested his butt on the back bar and crossed his arms.

Grey’s stony silence provoked Matt, just as his grandfather had promised.

“Then again, her folks are here, right?” Matt lifted off the back bar and leaned closer to Grey. “Guess you’re not high on the list of people they want to see.”

“Maybe not, but I’m probably not as low on their list as you.” Grey shoved the empty bottle toward Matt.

“Don’t count on it. Unlike you, I’m trying to help that family avoid financial disaster. We’ll see where things stand once all the dust settles.” Matt’s smirk hinted at some kind of inside information he was dying to share, but Grey wasn’t about to let the guy best him. At least he’d learned what he needed to know: Matt was, in fact, going after Avery and planning to use Grey’s potential lawsuit as a wedge to split them apart.

“You know, the minute I heard about how you cheated on Avery, I suspected you must be the world’s biggest dumbass. Damn if you didn’t just go and prove me right.” Grey stood up. “I wouldn’t spend much more time trying to win her back. You may have shaken her faith in men, but now she’s moved on.”