Loving Her Crazy by Kira Archer

original layers of clothing. They stashed everything, along with Clyde and the Sloane Ranger, with the coat-check girl.
    “Karaoke to the right, club to the left,” the girl said, so bored she didn’t even bother to look at them.
    Iris glanced at Nash, then grabbed his hand and hauled him off to the right. She wanted to see if her cowboy could sing. To her surprise, he didn’t resist. The crowd on this side of the joint was even thinner than at the club. But there were enough people hootin’ and hollerin’ for a girl in hot-pink Lycra doing her best impression of a young Britney Spears.
    Nash nodded to a table right in the middle. They sat, and he leaned over to talk in her ear. “You hungry?”
    She wasn’t starving, but she could eat. Especially once she caught sight of what the people at the table were eating. “Want to get some hot wings?”
    “I don’t know. I like them hot. Not sure you can handle it.”
    Oh, he had no idea. “Bring it on.”
    He laughed and signaled the waitress over. “An order of hot wings, please. As hot as you’ve got ’em.”
    The waitress’s eyes widened a bit, but all she said was, “You got it.”
    When she returned, she also put two large glasses of milk in front of them. “You’re going to need them,” she said.
    “She’s obviously never been to Grandma Betty’s.”
    “Your grandmother?”
    “No,” he said with a laugh. “It’s this little hole-in-the-wall that’s part diner and part bar. The woman who runs it is this tough old woman named Lucy.”
    “Then why is it called Grandma Betty’s?”
    Nash blinked at her. “I have no idea.”
    She laughed. “Okay then. So, she makes hot wings?”
    “So hot they’ll burn your lips off. And I hold the record for eating them.”
    “Impressive. How do these compare?” she asked, looking down at the basket in front of her.
    Nash picked one up and sniffed it, pulled back a little, and then gingerly licked it. His eyes immediately watered, and his face flushed red. He put it down and took a sip of the milk. “Pretty close. Wow.” He blew out a breath and took another sip.
    Oh, this could be fun. “How many was your record?”
    “Six. Why?”
    “Care to make a little wager?”
    He leaned forward, his face alight with interest. “Such as?”
    “I bet I can beat your record.”
    Nash snorted. “I don’t think you’ll be able to get one down.”
    Iris just smiled. No one ever thought she could do it. But hot was her thing. She’d been drinking bottles of salsa since she was a toddler, and not that mild stuff, either. Spicy was her flavor of choice.
    “Then you take the bet?” she asked.
    “How many wings?”
    “The first person to get seven down wins.”
    “Wins what?”
    Iris squinted at him, thinking. She’d love to demand a few articles of clothing. But seeing as how they were in public and all, that probably wasn’t the best idea. Finally, something occurred to her.
    “The winner gets to pick the first song the loser is going to sing.”
    A huge smile spread across Nash’s face. “You’re on, Cookie.”
    …
    Nash signaled the waitress back over. As they each had six wings, they were in need of two more. Something that perplexed the waitress until Nash explained what the extra two wings were for.
    She brought the extra wings over. “The record is six. If one of you can eat seven, you break the record and get your picture on the wall. And win a hundred dollars cash.”
    “Ooh, that’s a deal,” Iris said.
    Nash picked up his first wing, watching as Iris did the same. The sauce coated his fingers and left his skin tingling. For a second, he doubted he could win. Sauce that affected your skin was a tad hotter than he was used to. He looked across to Iris, who seemed to be having the same problem, but she showed no sign of giving in. And when their eyes met, they both smiled, held up their wings, and got to chowing down.
    The first bite was torture. His mouth burned like he was sucking down the