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I do not miss the way her nipples are suddenly visible. Or how the pulse I feel beneath my thumb starts to hammer.
Good. Stop thinking about him and think about me instead.
“I can’t wait to take you home,” I purr.
She swallows. Takes her a beat to pick up what I’m laying down. But then she says, “So you can give me a nice foot rub before tucking me and the girls into bed?”
I laugh. Maybe it’s a little too loud. Maybe it’s not.
Maybe I’m goading Asshat. I can’t approach him. But if he approaches us—well, that’s on him, isn’t it?
“You’re skipping the best part.” I give her neck a squeeze.
She drops her fork. “Flossing before the foot rub? I love it when my teeth feel squeaky clean.”
“Flossing’s the fucking best. But?—”
Jen’s eyes flick over my shoulder and I know, I just fuckingknowit’s him. He saw us and he’s just drunk enough to have the balls to come investigate.
“Brian!” she says brightly, like he doesn’t dim the light inside her. “What are you doing here?”
“Boys and I went fishing today. Chartered a boat out of the marina. We heard this place has good drinks. I mean, not like there’s anywhere else to go on this goddamn island. But whatever, it’ll work.”
“Fishing. How fun.”
Jen takes the napkin off her lap and places it on the bar. She’s actually going to stand up. To, what, give him a hug?
This people pleasing shit has to stop.
I tighten my grip on her neck. Hold her down. Her pulse goes haywire. Mine does too, but that’s neither here nor there.
She crosses her legs. Brian’s eyes go even more unfocused. “Jen, girl, you lookgreat.”
Riley will likely fire me for starting a fight in his restaurant, but he’ll still post bail. I’ll be locked up twelve hours, max.
I can do anything for twelve hours.
Also. I need to think about what I can do to make Jen forget this guy. Show her how a real man would treat her.
“I’m only going to ask you once,Brian.” Sipping my tequila, I turn my head to look at him. “Walk away so my wife and I can enjoy our meal.”
Brian blinks, a quizzical look on his face like he just realized I’m here. Even though I have my hands all over Jen.
He laughs. “Sorry, y’all, I’m, like, a little wasted, but I thought you said she”—he points to Jen—“is your wife.”
I choke on the desire to ring this kid’s bell. It would be so satisfying. But I need to prove to Riley that I’m done making messes.
I move my hand from Jen’s neck to her left wrist. Hold up her hand. “That’s because she is my wife. Now walk away. I won’t tell you again.”
“Jen. What? You’re married? Wait, have?—”
“We . . . eloped,” Jen replies. “Recently.”
I feel a different kind of satisfaction seeing the confusion—the jealousy—on Brian’s face as he looks at the giant sparkler on Jen’s hand.
“You’ve been with this guy?” Brian asks.
Wow, the implication there. HowdareJen see other people while she sees him? Even though he was clearly with other people too. He kept his options open, refusing to commit when he had the chance. But apparently Jen wasn’t allowed the same freedom.
