And I fucking love it.
Normally all I’d be thinking about is how fast I can get her alone and naked but watching her here in her element feels the same way it did when I saw her in the kitchen with her siblings. It hits that part of me that I don’t show anyone. The part that recognizes real, meaningful connection when it’s staring me in the face.
The relationships in Rhiannon’s life are her whole world, the way straight to her heart. So, if I want her heart, I have to know the people she loves and actually care about them too. And I do. Her siblings, Leo, Chris… they’re some of the easiest people I’ve ever talked to. Which is rare for me. I usually prefer my solitude once I’m off the clock.
And somehow, seeing how much they love her back is even sexier to me. Maybe because I know exactly how easy it is to care for Rhiannon.
Her hazel eyes find mine across the room like I’m the only person here. She leans in, about to say something, then stops short, lips parting like her thought caught on something she doesn’t want to say out loud yet.
“Oh! Tasha!” she suddenly gasps, jumping up to wave someone over.
A woman who looks about Rhiannon's age but with dark blonde hair and tired brown eyes wearing a shirt that saysBrookhaven Brewsacross the chest heads toward us, eyebrows raised.
“Tasha, this is Cain,” Rhiannon announces proudly, like she’s introducing me to royalty.
Natasha sticks out her hand, grip firm. “Hi.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“This is my cousin,” Rhiannon adds. “She’s also the manager here.”
“Nice gig,” I say, nodding toward the packed bar. “Looks like you’re doing well.”
Natasha wipes her brow, exhaling. “Yeah. The owner’s a total asshole, though. He said he was going to be in to help today but got drunk with his friends on the lake instead.”
My brows lift, and Rhiannon bursts into laughter.
"She's trying to buy the place from him."
Natasha eyes me curiously again. “Where’d you find this guy? He doesn’t look like he belongs in Brookhaven.”
Rhiannon smiles and squeezes my shoulder. “He's the guy who sued me,” she says, as if that’s an adorable meet cute when I'd rather she say,‘He's the guy who can't stop making me come every time we’re together.’
“Leo and I beat him in court,” she continues, punching both fists in the air, grinning so wide I can’t even pretend to be offended.
Natasha shakes her head. “Oh… he sucks.”
I laugh.
“What do you want to eat?” she asks us.
Rhiannon leans across me, all warm curves and chaos, calling toward the kitchen. “Wings! Loads of wings! And more tequila!”
Ten minutes later, we’ve somehow migrated to the dance floor. Or what’s left of it.
She’s too tipsy to dance at this point, her movements are slow, loose, more sway than rhythm. But she’s pressed up against me, hips grinding lazily against my half erection, head tilted back as she laughs into my chest.
And I’m doing everything I can to hold on and not make a fool of myself. Her fingers clutch at my shirt. Her perfume mixes with sweat and tequila, and the heat between us builds until I swear the room fades out and all I can do is think about kissing her.
I don’t know if she’s doing it on purpose. But she’s got me exactly where she wants me and I want to tell her that so badly.
“Are you having fun?” she asks, facing me now, arms wrapped around my neck.
Her body’s warm against mine, soft in all the right places. I should tell her I like how she feels. Hell, I should tell her I can’t get her out of my head. That I want to see her again, maybe not just to fuck, but to… I don’t know.Besomething.
“Yeah. I am. Are you?”
Her mouth curls into a knowing smile. “I am. I’m glad you’re here.”
