Page 107 of Wrecked

“What’s exciting?” I ask Cooper as I slide onto the bench beside him.

Tony blushes and looks away. “Unless you need anything else—”

“Can I have a Coke, please?” I ask. “I’m parched.”

Tony frowns at me. “Sure,” he says. And then he returns to the bar to place the order.

A couple of times, I catch our server looking in our direction. “Did I miss something?”

“No, nothing,” Cooper says as he takes a swig of a soft drink. Apparently, he’d finished his beer and moved on to something nonalcoholic.

I point to his drink. “What’s that?”

“Coke.” He hands me the glass.

I take a long drink, reveling in the icy cold liquid cooling my throat. “I’ll pay you back when I get mine.”

“No problem,” he says.

“So, what did I miss?”

“I told you, nothing,” Cooper says. His expression gives nothing away.

Tyler laughs. “Cooper’s being modest. Our server was hitting on your fiancé.”

My gaze darts from Cooper to Tyler and back. “Are you serious?”

Tyler grins as he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t kid you about a thing like that. You should have seen Cooper squirming in his seat.”

I shift in mine to face Cooper. “I told you! Next time I’m going to giveyoua hickey.”

Tyler’s clearly amused “Told him what?”

“I told him his silver fox vibe would attract all kinds of attention. I warned him guys would be hitting on him.” I point to the hickey on my neck. “He gave me this so guys wouldn’t hit on me. I told him I should give him one, too, but he said it wasn’t necessary. Obviously, I was right.”

My Coke comes, and Tony makes a point of ignoring Cooper, not making any eye contact at all. I guzzle down half my drink and then hand the rest to him. “Come on, you’re dancing with me now.”

Cooper makes a face. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you do. This is our bachelor party, and I want to dance with my fiancé.”

“Okay, fine.” Copper slides off our bench seat. “Tyler, you’re in charge of the table while we’re gone.”

I drag Cooper out onto the dance floor just as they’re playing an old-school classic—It’s Raining Men. As we make our way over to the rest of our group, Cooper is completely out of his comfort zone. I take pity on him and wrap my arms around his neck. I know he can at least sway—like he’s slow dancing—and that’s good enough for me.

Halfway through the song, a young guy, barely five feet tall, bumps into Cooper. He’s got to be at least twenty-one to get into the club, but he looks like he could pass for much younger.

Cooper automatically releases me and turns to see what the commotion is, and the kid gets one look at Cooper and his face lights up.

“Sorry,” Cooper says to the guy before he turns back to me.

The kid moves so he’s in front of Cooper. “Hey.” His gaze scans Cooper from head to toe. Then he spares me a quick, dismissive glance before turning back to face Cooper. “Howabout a dance, Daddy?” he asksmyfiancé as he runs his index finger down the front of Cooper’s shirt.

Cooper freezes for a moment, looking quite uncomfortable as he meets my gaze over this kid’s head. “I’m sorry,” Cooper practically stammers. “I’m—I—”

I realize Cooper’s not used to being hit on by guys. I don’t count, because he hit on me first. Taking pity on him, I move in between them, pushing the kid back a couple of feet. “Can’t you see he’s taken?”

The kid smirks at me. “It’s a free country. Let him decide.”