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Claire’s extravagant emerald dress hugs every inch of her body, showcasing her slim waist, the killer dip of her curves. The straps above her shoulders tie together in loopy bows, and when she spins around, I see that it’s backless, a silky ribbon lacing over her fair skin, knotting just above the swell of her perfect ass. The material molds tightly around her hips until a scalloped lace hem wisps out halfway down her thighs, draping around her knees.
My cock twitches in my pants, and when she turns again, laughter lighting her face, auburn hair rolling in big waves over her shoulders, my heart squeezes in a way I’m not all that familiar, nor comfortable, with. She catches my eye and I watch as a deep crimson color creeps up her delicate throat, painting her cheeks. She glances down before her lifting her gaze again, trying like hell to bite back that coy smile of hers.
Like hell I’m letting her keep her distance from me tonight, or any night for that matter. And when I start strutting toward her, parting the crowd like I’m parting the Red fucking Sea, we both realize at the same time that her feet seem to be cemented in place. I’m quite fine with that, and she looks like she might be, too.
I ignore Dex, and I even ignore Casey. Claire is all I see when I stop in front of her.
My hands find her waist and slide over her hips, pulling her gently against me, dropping my lips to the shell of her ear. “How are you this perfect?” I whisper, smiling at the way she trembles, her neck pebbling with goosebumps. I brush my lips across her warm cheekbone and pull back.
She clears her throat, eyes dancing, teeth biting into that plump pout. Her hands sweep over my chest, fingers playing with the knot of my tie. “You don’t look half bad yourself, Mr. Beck.”
Wyatt pushes me aside and sweeps Claire into his arms, telling her how good she looks and how she’s way too good for me while I step up to greet Casey and Dex.
“It’s nuts in here,” I observe.
There are a few journalists walking around snapping pictures, and there’s a small booth set up in the corner where they’re giving away free Cherry Lane merch as a party favor. The bar is packed and the servers are already swamped, even though half the party hasn’t walked through the front doors yet.
I hum in approval. “You guys are gonna kill it tonight. Perfect publicity.”
A proud, albeit wobbly, grin flashes across Dex’s face and he smooths his hand over his tie, surveying the room. “I’m nervous as fuck.”
“Don’t be. It’s gonna be great. Already is.”
“Charlee and Claire did all the planning,” he says, jerking his head toward the two of them as they examine the chalkboard menu behind the bar.
“Just leave it, Claire Bear,” Charlee urges. “It’s fine.”
“Now that I know it’s there, it’s gonna bother me all night.” Claire inches forward until she’s leaning over the counter, nose nearly touching the blackboard. With one finger, she rubs at some of the fancy white writing and she sighs. “I’m gonna fix it.”
Charlee huffs out a long-suffering sigh, rolling her eyes as Claire rifles through a drawer. “You’re such a perfectionist sometimes. No one’s gonna notice it tonight.”
Claire ignores her as she hoists herself up on the countertop, balancing on her knees, all while shaking a white marker. She thrusts her hand behind her, curling her fingers. “Cloth, please.”
Charlee wets a paper towel and hands it to Claire and I watch her wipe an entire beer name off the wall. Then, she starts writing, big, beautiful, loopy calligraphy, touching it up twice until it looks just the way she wants. I’m so fascinated by her, it’s ridiculous. I can’t look away.
Finished, she glances around, trying to figure out how to drop back down to the floor safely in three-inch heels. Without a thought, I step up behind her, fingers pressing into her waist as I lift her off the counter and set her down on her fancy feet.
“Thanks, Avery.” Her eyes crinkle with her smile and she squeezes my hand, a meaningless gesture, but one that makes me want to hold on. She pours everyone a round of beer, not wanting to wait for her own drink. She hands me a Strawberry Grove without asking, knowing it’s the one I like. I like it because of her. I think she knows that.
“Two nights out in less than a week?” I ask Casey, trying to tear my gaze off his sister. “Who’s got Vivi tonight?”
Casey grins and nods. “I got a taste of what I’ve been missing.” He tilts his head toward Charlee. “Mariana, Charlee’s mom, is with Vivi again tonight. Charlee’s trying to convince me to let loose once a week.” The look he throws Charlee is one of pure longing, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Claire, or Dex. I don’t think either of them would be upset to see their siblings get together.
Honestly, good on Dex. If Wyatt tried to get with my little sister, I’d shit a goddamn brick. I trust Wyatt with a lot of things, one of them being accounts worth millions of dollars, but never would I ever trust that man with my sister.
It only takes two beers before Claire lets me pull her out to the makeshift dancefloor. She really doesn’t put up much of a fight at all, but then again, alcohol always lowers her inhibitions. I also think she’s just learning to let her wall down a bit with me in general.
“Just as I suspected,” I murmur as I tug her close, one hand on her lower back, fingers dipping under the ribbon that holds her dress together, while my other hand tangles with hers.
Her nose wrinkles. “What?”
“You’re failing, and I’m watching. You’re doing a downright atrocious job of keeping your distance from me tonight.”
She tries so hard to bite back her smile, but those little dimples in her pink cheeks make an appearance. I lean down and kiss one.
“Do you always spend this much time trying to woo a woman into your bed?”
Two weeks? Definitely not. I’ve never tried harder to nail down a woman in my entire life, and three weeks without sex? It’s killing me. “Nah. Usually no more than ten minutes.”
