Raising the Stakes: Three of a Kind, Book 2 by Jess Dee Read Free Book Online Page B

their conversation in the car. Megan wouldn’t express her thoughts in front of five other people. She’d never embarrass Alex like that.
    “It’s cool, babe.” No it wasn’t. It was very far from cool, but Megan was already looking back at the door, and whether she physically went outside to talk to Des or not, her focus was totally on him. “Go see what’s up with him.”
    Megan squeezed his hand and walked outside.
    Alex’s heart settled heavily in his stomach. This was not going to end well.

    Damn it. She’d thought she’d made brilliant progress with Des.
    They’d connected again for the first time since Hunter’s party. Megan even had a sense everything would be okay between them. She was planning on popping in to his place the next morning, regardless of his workload. She’d neglected him long enough, giving him the space he’d asked for. No more. He needed a friend, and she’d be there for him. End of story.
    And now? Fun, easygoing Des had looked ready to kill someone right before he marched outside.
    Who?
    She expected to find him sitting on one of the deck chairs on the patio, but they were both empty. She scanned the garden, giving her eyes a minute to adjust to the dark. Where was he? No shadows lurked on the grass or against the neighbor’s wall.
    “Des?”
    Silence.
    “Desmond? Where are you?”
    “Go back inside, Megan.” His voice came from behind the blue gum.
    Megan? Des never called her by her full name.
    She walked over to him, making out the profile of his body below the canopy of branches. “Enjoying your cigarette?”
    He didn’t answer.
    “You don’t smoke.” What a bullshit excuse.
    “I don’t want company either.”
    Crikey, what crawled up his ass? “I don’t care.” She strode over and planted herself in front of him. “What’s going on with you?”
    “Nothing you need to worry about.” He didn’t move, just leaned on the tree, one foot resting against the trunk.
    “Listen up, mate.” She poked a finger at his chest. “I’m getting sick of you pushing me away. You got a problem, tell me about it.”
    “I’m not in the mood for talking.”
    She bristled at his tone. “Yeah? Well I’m not in the mood for leaving you out here to brood. It’s not your style, and it freaks me out. So why not cut the crap and spill your guts?”
    He shook his head. “Go away, Meg. I need to be alone.”
    “Or else what?” Yes, she goaded him, but she had no choice. If she walked away now, she’d never get through to him. He’d just carry on shutting her out, and she’d have no chance to help him. Rather push him until he cracked. Get whatever troubled him out in the open. She couldn’t bear seeing him like this. So tense and so edgy she hardly recognized him.
    “Or else someone is going to get hurt.”
    She snorted. “Did you just threaten me?” The idea of Des getting violent was laughable.
    He glared at her.
    “Oooh, now I’m scared. The big, bad Desmond wants to hit me.”
    “I’m not going to hit you. You’re being ridiculous.”
    “Oh, really? Then why do you look as if you want to smash your fist into something?”
    “Megan!” Her name was a warning.
    “Will hitting me make you feel better? Will it help get your frustration and anger out?” He needed to get it out. Whatever else he had bottled up inside needed releasing too. He was wound so tight he could snap any minute.
    She opened her arms wide, turning herself into a standing target. “Go ahead, take your best shot.” As if he could ever lay a hand on her.
    His arms remained at his sides. “Don’t be an idiot.”
    “Me?” She laughed out loud. “The only one being an idiot is you. Now, I’m going to count slowly to three, and when I reach the magic number, you’re going to tell me exactly what’s going on in that head of yours.”
    Emotion radiated off Des in waves. Anger, aggravation and a million other things she couldn’t identify.
    “You ready?” She paused, waiting for him