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He leans closer, glances at her lips, then answers, "No doubt."
"You have two seconds to get your hands off my wife," I threaten.
Blakely glances at his hand as if she didn't notice it, then turns her head toward me with a guilty expression.
He slowly follows, keeping his hand on my wife's leg. He replies, "Or what? You're going to ruin her big night?"
She slips out from under his grasp and rises. She claims, "He doesn't mean anything. It's just an innocent gesture, Riggs."
"Bullshit. He'd like nothing better than to sleep with you," I state, then scowl at Noah, warning, "I'll deal with you at a more appropriate time."
Blakely snaps, "That's enough, Riggs."
I glance at her, surprised she's continuing to stick up for Noah. I look back at his smirking face, and it takes everything I have not to hurt him. Instead, I refocus on my pet. "Are you ready to get these interviews over with?"
She lifts her chin and straightens her shoulders. "Yes."
I point to the oversized chair. "Sit there so Noah can keep his hands to himself."
She shoots me a defiant look, and I wince inside, thinking she might try to sit back down next to Noah. But she finally mutters, "Whatever," and sits in the chair.
I leer at Noah until he looks away, then go to the door and open it. I announce, "Blakely is ready for her interviews now."
For three hours, the reporters come in and out of the room. Pride sweeps through me as I listen to Blakely answer a handful of different questions. When the last reporter steps outside, Colton strolls into the room.
He questions, "Riggs, keeping things real back here?"
I grunt. As much as Colton can get on my nerves, he's starting to grow on me. Plus, anyone who has a beef with Noah is a friend in my book.
He pats me on the back and sits on the armrest of Blakely's chair. He states, "You riding with me?"
"Where's that?" I question.
They glance at me. Blakely answers, "To the after-party."
The hairs on my neck rise. I ask, "What after-party?"
Colton laughs, replying, "The after-party celebrating your wife and yours truly." He lowers his voice and bats his lashes. "That's me, in case you're wondering."
I ignore him and blurt out, "No one told me about a party."
Colton arches his eyebrows and then pins his gaze on Noah, shaking his head and dramatically voicing, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. It looks like you're at it again."
"At what?" I seethe.
Colton glares at Noah.
Noah points at him. "Stop trying to cause trouble."
Colton shakes his head and declares, "Noah has a thing about not informing spouses or significant others about parties. He likes to keep them in the dark so they get pissed and feel left out. Then when things get heated, he drives the wedge between them deeper. Isn't that right, Noah?"
"Stop telling lies and being dramatic, Colton," Noah scolds.
I cross my arms over my chest, growing angrier. I snarl, "I'm to know Blakely's schedule at all times."
He shrugs and takes a sip of his beer. Arrogance washes over him, burning brighter with every breath. He claims, "It's not a performance."
"Excuse me?" I challenge, clenching my fist at my sides.
