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My head bobs. “That’s who I want.” And that was easier than I expected. Maybe Margo is right. Sometimes Henry has to be told rather than asked. I set my jaw with determination. “And I’m asking Ronan to be my bridesman.”
A low groan escapes Henry. “We’ll talk about it later.”
But the copious rounds of drinks have given me courage. I hook my fingers over Henry’s leather belt, my thumb dragging along his zipper where his erection from a few moments ago still lingers. “It’s important to me that I have my closest, most trusted friends there.”
“Idon’t trust him.”
“Yes, you do. You would never have allowedcertainthingsto happen if you didn’t.” I arch my eyebrows pointedly, though I don’t need to emphasize any part of that sentence.
His lips purse with reluctance. How can he argue with that? Unless he suspects what Margo insinuated earlier, about Ronan’s feelings for me. Even so, that doesn’t change our friendship.
“Henry. He brought me back to you. I’m having him there.”
He sighs heavily. “As long as he doesn’t disrupt the ceremony.”
“Why would he do that?”
But Henry doesn’t answer me, his eyes narrowing on Margo. “I suppose I have you to thank for this?”
“Andso many otherwonderful things in your life.” She blows him a kiss and then says something in rapid French.
“No.” His tone is sharp. “Absolutely not.” He fires something back at her and then glares at me with exasperation, his affectionate touch gone. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Abbi.”
“What?” What now?
“You are not going to Ibizawith Margo and Ronanfor your bachelorette party.”
“I don’t even know where that is!” The emphasis on Margo and Ronan catches up to me. “And why not? You don’t trust me?”
“Yes, of course I trustyou.” His nostrils flare. “Fine, go to the party capital of Europe, where everyone’s high and groping everyone else. I can’t wait to see what they plan for me.” He nods toward the bar. “But don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll betame.”
I feel my face pale as I think about what kind of trouble Merrick, Warner, and Preston will concoct for Henry’s bachelor party. While I trust him, I don’t trust them, and I definitely don’t trust the fifty naked women they’ll bring in to hump his lap. “On second thought, I’d like to be placed in a coma for that weekend,” I mutter.
Henry smirks. “Thought so.”
Merrick returns with two crystal glasses, wedging himself in the space on the couch next to me as if we’re old friends and this is completely normal. He passes Henry his drink. “Just how you like it … Daddy.”
I stifle my giggle.
Merrick winks at me before shifting his focus to Margo. “That is one smooth-talking Frenchman up there. The blond is about to hand him her panties.”
The same Frenchman who sucked your cock last night?I watch Merrick for any sign that he feels at all awkward or jealous about Joel’s conquest, but there’s nothing at all. It’s like they’re just people who helped each other out.
Margo sighs heavily. “I hope so. He’s been whining that he doesn’t have anyone new to photograph lately. I’m tired of listening to it.”
“For hisart?” Preston’s eyes light up, finished with his call. “I’d fucking love to be there for that.”
“We will see if they’re amiable.” Margo reaches over to fix his collar before patting his shoulder with her palm. It’s so innocent and yet something about the simple touch makes me wonder if Merrick isn’t the only of Henry’s friends she’s hooked up with.
“And how are plans for turning your chateau into a Wolf?” Preston asks as they fall into casual, friendly conversation.
She pouts, her focus now on Henry. “Slow. Someone is dragging his feet.”
“Don’t be too hard on him.” Merrick throws a brawny arm across the back of the couch, giving the space between Henry’s shoulder and neck an affectionate squeeze. “Daddy’s been busy.”
Henry’s molars grind as he sips his drink, ignoring his friend’s taunts.
Meanwhile, the deep, gravelly sound of Merrick’s voice in my ear and being sandwiched between these two again after what transpired last night sparks heat between my thighs.
