Chapter Twenty-Nine
Taz wasn’t sure about the beer but a jolt of Chivas Regal would be agreeable. “No, but thank you.” Their eyes locked and held. Taz recognized the look, same as at the hospital, like Connie had just found a ripe tomato among the weeds.
Connie stepped closer, reached out and slapped a hand to the side of Taz’s neck. She squeezed hard, digging her thumb into the ball of the jaw. The muscles tightened in response and resisted. “You’re so god-damned hard.” Connie clasped Taz by a shoulder with the opposite hand, gauging the unyielding tawny tenacity. “Jesus.” Connie relaxed her grip and dropped back to the sofa cushion. Taz waited. “Even here,” Connie ran her knuckles across the taper of a bra-less breast; felt the rubbery n****e sticking out at her like a kid’s scrappy to
