Just His Taste Read Online Free Page B

heading off.
    Jason waited until she was gone before stretching his sore back. And once again, he scanned around for Ava, the redhead with the kinky mind.
    No luck.
    He kept his looking subtle, but he didn’t see Ava anywhere. Earlier, when he’d spoken to Bruce, he had seen her walking by. Heck, so had Bruce, for a second.
    But she’d disappeared again. Yet he had this feeling she’d been around all day, though he didn’t know why.
    Just one of those old cop-hunch things.
    He’d worked his way back to his stuff, to finish packing the last bit, when a guy came up to the table.
    Not just any guy.
    Lucas Wyman, Tessa’s ex-boyfriend.
    â€œGregorian,” he said.
    â€œWyman,” Jason replied. He’d known Lucas Wyman for years. A wrestler, just like Roark, Bruce and he, but Wyman had wrestled for North, while Jason had been on South’s team. Rivals on the mat, but, mostly, they got along in public.
    Hell, he’d introduced Tessa to Wyman a hundred years ago.
    Wyman looked Jason up and down. “Thought that ship sailed,” he said.
    Jason set down the box he held. “What do you want, Wyman?”
    Wyman raised his eyebrow. “You and Tessa were ancient history.”
    â€œHistory is often repeated.”
    â€œUh-huh.” Wyman picked up a bottle of Jason’s sauce. Smelled it, then set it back down. “I think you’re being a nice guy, pretending to be Tessa’s date so she didn’t look bad.”
    â€œYou think?” Jason replied.
    â€œOtherwise, why are you still here? Alone?”
    â€œWorking. You know how Tessa is.”
    Wyman nodded. “Yeah, I know exactly how she is.”
    Jason stacked another box. “Question is—why do you care?”
    â€œJust because we broke up doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
    â€œActually, it kinda does.”
    Wyman narrowed his gaze. “Don’t screw with her Gregorian, or I’ll—”
    Jason raised his eyebrow. “You’ll what?”
    â€œI’ll tear you up.”
    â€œQuite protective of your ex.”
    â€œI mean it, Gregorian.”
    Jason nodded. “Warning received. Now if you’ll excuse yourself, I have work.”
    Wyman blinked, posturing a little as he left.
    Jason shook his head. The guy is still mental.
    He put the last of his stuff on his cart and hauled it toward his van. On the way, he waved at Bruce as the photographer loaded up his own equipment. With his head in his phone.
    Again.
    Jason shook his head. Dude needed a life that wasn’t connected to his cell phone.
    Jason piled everything into his serial-killer van.
    Damn thing, right out of Silence of the Lambs , was ugly as sin. The kind of work vehicle kids were told to avoid. Still, it held all his gear for barbecue cook-offs and he could put his small grill and smoker in the back, no problem.
    He’d gotten the last of it loaded—why did it take up more room after an event than before?—and closed the door when a voice jarred him.
    â€œYou don’t hand out lollipops in that thing, do you?”
    Jason spun around.
    There stood Ava. Out of that skirt, instead wearing a pair of jeans that hugged every inch of her long legs, a tank top that did the same for her upper body, and her red hair hung over one shoulder, tied in a ponytail.
    And that wickedly flirty smile.
    â€œOnly to the good girls,” he answered. Just looking at her made his blood flow south.
    She smiled a little wider.
    Nope, no more blood remained in his brain.
    â€œWell, I’m mostly good. But I’d much rather have a drink than a lollipop.”
    â€œI’m all out of beer,” Jason answered.
    â€œWell, the bar down the street will remedy that,” she said.
    Jason nodded. “N-need a ride?” Good grief, there he went again! Lord, it was like he was seven or something.
    â€œCan I trust you?” she asked with that playful look in her eye.
    He raised his