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“How is Emmabelle doing anyway?” Hunter asked. “Is she starting to show?”
I thought she was, last time I saw her, a couple of days ago. When she’d passed me in the kitchen, I thought I caught a glimpse of a rounded stomach. I couldn’t tell for sure. But since I kept my cards close to my chest when it came to my personal life, they had no idea I was not on speaking terms with her.
“Moderately.”
“Are you taking advantage of the pregnancy cravings?” Sam elevated an eyebrow.
I raised my champagne in the air in salute. “Same answer.”
“Well…” Cillian took pleasure in directing his pinky beyond my shoulder, pointing at something “…then you may want to ensure you’re the only one enjoying those cravings, because Davidson seems to be working on his next private venture.”
I followed his line of vision, turning around to see Emmabelle standing in the corner of the room, wearing a light blue silk Cinderella gown, her sandy hair in an elegant do.
She was laughing at something James Davidson was saying, her fingers fluttering over her necklace.
The same Davidson who wouldn’t know a rotten deal from a good one if it chopped off his leg without anesthesia.
He was objectively handsome in a white bread sort of way, with brown, thick hair, big white teeth, and the languid, lazy manners of a man who never had to work for what he owned.
And he was completely enchanted with the lurid, shockingly vivid woman in front of him.
I squinted, focusing on her midriff. To my disappointment, her dress hid her belly quite well. It didn’t even matter. If Belle wanted to sleep with Davidson tonight, nothing was going to stop her.
“Isn’t James Davidson married?” I was surprised to hear my question sound more like a moan.
“Newly divorced,” Hunter corrected, off to my right. He bumped his shoulder against mine as we both looked on at Belle laughing throatily at something Davidson said.
What could have possibly made her laugh? The guy was dryer than a rice cake.
“His ex just bought a new Cadillac and a pair of tits to taunt him, but I hear he’s moving onto nicer and better pastures.”
“That pasture isn’t going to be Emmabelle.”
Cillian tsked. “Doubt she got that memo.”
“She is just being polite,” I lamented.
“Yes, your baby momma is known for her manners.” Sam chuckled.
“Also, polite people don’t touch other people’s chests.” Hunter laughed.
Buggers. She was touching his chest.
I wasn’t a violent man, but I was quite sure I was well on the way to doing something that would land me in state prison.
“What do you think?” I asked Sam.
Across the room, Emmabelle shook her head when a server approached her with a tray of champagne while James leaned closer to her, whispering something in her ear.
“I think if I were in your shoes, James would have had six teeth missing and a punctured lung by now,” Sam said indolently.
That was all the assurance I needed that I wasn’t overacting. Even though I was overacting, because I was currently dating another woman, even if technically, I did not touch her.
I moved quickly, brushing shoulders, crossing the vast room, my fingers pressing hard against the thin champagne glass.
I wanted to kill James, and lock Emmabelle in an ivory tower. Though really, could I blame her? She thought I was about to get engaged to someone else in a few short weeks, maybe even days.
What kind of claim did I have over this woman? None at all.
I stopped in front of them, smiling like all was well in the world.
“Belle, darling, I’ve been looking for you.” I made of show of kissing her cheeks, but ignored it when James reached for a handshake.
Politeness went out the window when his eyes landed on what was mine.
“You were?” Sweven gave me a lazy onceover. Again, I found her indifference to me enchanting. “Honestly, one would think you’d be searching for more important things, like your spine.”
“Maybe I’ll find your manners while I’m at it,” I bit out.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. You don’t have a good track record for finding things. My G-spot can attest.”
That was plainly a lie. I could find her G-spot if it was in a lineup with five fucking others, and she darn well knew it.
“Devon, do you know this gem?” James pointed at her with his glass of bubbly like she was a painting he was thinking of buying.
I wanted to punch him to the ground and then keep going until he reached the depths of hell. “She is so funny!”
“Marvelous,” I said gravely. “And yes, I know her well.”
“Not well enough, apparently.” Belle took out her phone from her purse, determined to let me know she was more disinterested than embarrassed about the scene I was making.
“Well enough to impregnate her with my baby.” I turned to James, nailing him with a frosty look. “You make whatever you want of it.”
