“Just waiting for the right one to come along, little wild.” He pulled back, and I went to take a step toward the happy couple so I could get in line to congratulate them. Seb stepped in front of me, far enough away that I could step around him but still blocking my path forward. “Maybe I’ll just have to get in her way though.” He winked.
He turned around and clapped Luke on the shoulder, pulling him into a man hug, like he didn’t just cause my pulse to skitter to a stop in the middle of this celebration with one stupid wink. It wasn’t like he was talking about me. That would be ridiculous and the absolute last thing I needed to deal with right now.
I went around them to find Scarlett. “Congratulations. Or my condolences if he turns out to be anything like Luke,” I joked.
She laughed, her curly red hair bringing out the deep pink color of her cheeks. “I can handle another Luke. I just hope he doesn’t take after his Uncle Seb. I don’t know if I can handle that.”
I glanced over to him, taking in his bright smile and warm brown eyes. He was trouble, that was for sure. But maybeSebastian Devereux wasn’t all bad.
Then again, I’d been wrong before. It was best to assume the worst. It was safer that way.
8
Sebastian
“Yeah, this looks better.” I looked at myself in the full-length mirror after having changed my pants twice and my shirt three times.
And now I was fucking talking to myself.
I was going to Harpoon’s Tavern, for Christ’s sake. It didn’t matter what I was wearing. No one would be able to see in the dark interior of the bar anyway. And honestly, I was all but guaranteed to leave with a lady on my arm if I wanted to.
Harpoon’s wasn’t a pickup joint, but still, I had almost never struck out when I was looking for someone to warm my bed. And it had been a while since anyone had been doing that. A couple of months wasn’t exactly a rut for most dudes, but it was one of the longest stretches I could remember in recent years.
The crew and I were going out tonight though, so my dry spell was about to be fucking over.
I slipped my feet into my boots, grabbing my keys and pulling a beanie over my head.
Should I put on another spritz of cologne?I turned my headand sniffed my shirt.
No. I was good. I didn’t want it to be overpowering.
I was putting way too much energy into what I looked like tonight, and I didn’t fucking like it. There was no reason for me to be so wound up. It was the regular group of us, plus Lydia, of course.
Harpoon’s was a few minutes’ drive down the road. Designed with the old fisherman and whaling trade in mind, the restaurant was themed with nautical elements from the ships wheel chandeliers to the actual harpoons that hung on the walls. The bar area had the counter and some high-top tables, then behind that was the main restaurant side of the establishment. Typically, we had always hung out on the bar side. Back in the day, there were rarely more than six of us, mostly all guys plus Reid’s old girlfriend, Kayleigh.
The group had grown since then, adding Maeve and Scarlett—swapping Kayleigh for Claire—and now Lydia was here. Our guys’ nights were quickly becoming couples’ nights, plus Wes and me.
And Lydia.
She was the first person my eyes landed on as soon as I walked in the joint. Her silvery hair shined in the overhead lights. She turned her head, her eyes meeting mine, and it was like my feet forgot how to walk like a normal fucking person.Did my arms always swing this much?What the hell was wrong with me?
They had set up on the restaurant side, pushing two tables together.
“Hey, man,” I said, clapping Luke on the shoulder.
“Hey… why are you all dressed up?”
“I’m not dressed up. I just look this good without trying.Isn’t that right, Letty?” I said to Scarlett, using her nickname that Luke called her. It always made him seethe just a little, and I still got a kick out of it. His jaw clenched, and he shot me an unimpressed glare.
“You do look nice,” she said. It should have been a compliment, but instead, it came out with suspicion.
“Just for you, honey.” I shot her a wink. “Who needs a drink? I’ll go grab them.”
“Can I get another margarita?” Maeve asked.
“Oh, me too, please,” Claire added.
“Two margaritas. Anything else?”
