Read Sympathy for the Devil (International Bad Boys Book 4) for Free Online Page A

played?”
    “1980.”
    “Okay, same question only this time for the Women’s State of Origin series?”
    “What?”
    “You were our last hope,” said Eli dryly.
    “Hey, I got the horse.”
    “And I need an introduction to the lovely slender blonde sitting in the corner,” said Zoey. Cutter’s not here. Eli won’t do it. I’m counting on you.”
    He didn’t have to look to see who she meant. He’d seen her the minute he walked in. She was sitting at a corner table with her parents, her honey-brown hair caught in a careless knot at the nape of her neck. Coltish was still the word he’d use to describe her—all long lines and natural born elegance. Tonight she looked like a dancer in her downtime, every slender curve captivating. “I wouldn’t call her blonde,” he said by way of a reply. “Her hair’s brown.”
    “Introduce me.”
    “She’s not going to take pictures for you, Zoey. I’ve already asked.”
    “When?” asked Eli.
    “I caught up with her down the beach this morning.”
    Eli just looked at him, Caleb stared back, daring his brother to make something of it. He hadn’t planned the meeting, even if he had taken advantage of it. Eli could think what he liked.
    “Word has it that Theodore Tucker’s dying,” said his grandfather and Caleb turned to eye the older man sharply.
    “Who told you that?”
    “Reba.”
    Reba was the club bartender, a woman of indeterminate age who could banter with the best of them and fill a tray full of drinks in approximately the same amount of time it took another bartender to find a glass. If Reba said old Doc Tucker was dying, then there was a good chance he was.
    Damn.
    Bree had shut him down hard this morning. She hadn’t been reassured by the words of welcome he’d mustered. She hadn’t wanted a damn thing to do with him or any other Jackson in the bay and had told him plain that she intended to stay far, far away.
    She’d been wary of him this morning. Cautious. Apologetic, even, although why she thought that one appropriate was anyone’s guess.
    Her call.
    She always had been inclined to call the shots.
    At eighteen, he’d let her. Didn’t have to be that way today.
    “All right,” he said to Zoey. “You’ll get your introduction.”
    Caleb headed in the Tuckers’ direction and watched as Bree registered his approach. He knew when he had a woman’s attention and although she tried to hide it he sure as hell had hers.
    Maybe she had a thing for battered leather jackets.
    Maybe it was the biker boots.
    “Hey Doc, Mrs. Tucker, Bree. You’re not playing trivia?”
    “The intention was there,” Bree’s mother, Marguerite, offered smoothly. “But it looks as if it could take a while. We’re just on our way out.” The trivia sheets on their table hadn’t been filled in. The remains of three meals sat in front of them, Doc Tucker’s barely touched.
    “I don’t suppose you know anything about women’s football?”
    “1998,” said Marguerite. “But don’t ask me which state wins all the games. It gets ugly.”
    “You need to go and sit at that table,” he said, with a nod to where his family sat. “They need you.”
    It was more of a throwaway comment than not, but when the doc eyed the Jackson table speculatively, Caleb followed up. “You’d be more than welcome there—even if only for a round or two. People come and go at that table all night. You wouldn’t be locked in.”
    The Doc looked at his wife somewhat hopefully. Marguerite shrugged. “We could.”
    “Did you hear about the diver who got taken at Coffs Harbor this afternoon?” the doc asked.
    “Yeah, they’re saying it was a Great White shark. It’s a risk you take.”
    “You don’t believe in culling?” Marguerite asked.
    “No, ma’am. It’s their ocean.”
    “And still your favorite place to be,” offered Bree.
    “Cutter’s got the fishing boats, Eli’s got the design floor and I’ve got everything under the sea.”
    “Smug.”
    “Wouldn’t