With a distrustful glance at Monty, Jack said, “Don’t try to pull anything, Becker. I’m watching you.”
Monty flashed his disarming grin. “Now what would I try here, of all places? I thought we were working as a team, Jack.” To Emmett, he asked, “Isn’t that what you said outside? We’re in this together?”
“Just keep your mouth shut,” Jack growled, “and your hands to yourself. I’ll be right back.”
As Jack stormed off, heading for the bar, Monty leaned over the dusty table. “Is he always this bad?”
Emmett laughed. “No,” he admitted. “Sometimes he’s worse.”
Was that a hand on Emmett’s knee? Easing up the inside of his thigh, the touch barely felt through his denim pants… When he brushed it aside, Monty caught his fingers under the table and gave them a quick squeeze before taking Emmett’s hand in his.