Emily’s voice rings out over our small gathering. “It’s time for the rehearsal dinner, guys, let’s head to the table.”
“After you,” Caleb mutters, motioning for Damien and me to go first. Typical Ward—always has to have our backs.
We enter a smaller adjoining room, more intimate than the main ballroom where the reception itself will be held next week. Warm candlelight glitters off crystal and champagne, and the air is heavy with the scent of roses and wine. I snort when I see a string quartet tucked into a dark corner. My brother must really love his bride-to-be to put up with these frills. He sits with her at the head of the table now, looking disgustingly happy, her hand tucked in his while he whispers something that makes her blush.
Damien sits down next to Morgan to Killian’s right, and drapes his arm along the back of her chair, protective even among friends. I’m on the other side, looking at Caleb, who still hasn’t unclenched since I brought up Basia.
And speak of the devil—here she comes. She sits between Morgan and Caleb and laughs at something her friend says. Caleb’s posture changes instantly, his back going ramrod straight, eyes locked, jaw tight. The man’s doomed.
My Barbara walks in next. Her eyes narrow when I pull out her chair, the one between me and the bride.
Better get used to it, baby. I’m going to be by your side through all of this.
She sits down while pointedly looking the other way, not thanking me as I gently push the chair with her back in. MaybeSebshould send her a text. Shake things up a bit.
“Thanks for coming, everyone,” Emily says cheerfully once a few more of her friends and our military buddies, along with their partners, make their way to their seats. “We know it’s a bit unusual to have the rehearsal dinner a week early, but that’s what happens when your fiancé proposes on New Year’s Eve and doesn’t want to wait for a wedding. Booking this wasnoteasy.”
My man looks heavenward. “I told you you’re marrying me the morning after I first had you in a bed, Red. Were it up to me, we’d have been hitched a long time ago, and none of them would be here.” He gives the assembled a droll look. “Some offense intended.”
Predictably, everyone laughs, but only the men know he’s not really joking.
I tune out the rest, my focus on the amazing woman next to me. One who’s pretending I don’t exist. Well, that’s going to be hard for my firecracker. Especially when I’m balls deep, pounding that sweet pussy.
7
BARBARA
If Ethan Kane smirks at me one more time, I’m going to commit a crime at his brother’s rehearsal dinner.
A minor one. Probably.
Something that involves a butter knife and plausible deniability.
He’s everywhere. Leaning back in his chair like sin in a tailored suit, nursing his whiskey, pretending he’s not watching me. But every time I look up, there he is—eyes hooded, mouth curved in that smug little I-know-you’d-scream-my-name grin.
It shouldn’t affect me this way. He’s cocky. Arrogant. A walking red flag in an expensive suit.
So why does my body react like it recognizes him?
I blame the champagne. And the week I’ve had. And the fact that men like Ethan—loud, magnetic, self-assured—are exactly the kind I swore off years ago.
“Are you okay?” Emily asks, her lips quirked in a smile that tells me she sees right through my mask.
“Fine,” I lie smoothly, stabbing my salad with unnecessary aggression. “Just trying to figure out how someone like that still exists without a court order.”
I look at Ethan, who’s laughing at something Damien said, head thrown back, throat exposed.
Emily chuckles. “You’re glaring at him like he owes you money.”
“He probably does,” I mutter. “Just in emotional damages.”
When he turns and catches me staring, I look away too fast, nearly knocking over my glass. Smooth, Barbara. Real smooth.
Ethan leans down to whisper in my ear. “Relax,” he murmurs, voice low enough that it slides down my spine like smoke. “I don’t bite.”
I turn slowly, forcing a sweet smile. “Shame. You’d be more tolerable if you did.”
His grin is infuriatingly lazy. “Careful, sweetheart. You sound like you’re asking me to prove it.”
