River blinks, her gaze still locked on me.
“How’s about ye?” I crook a grin.
“Huh?” River glances at her friend.
Lexie smiles. “He’s Irish.”
“Oh my fucking—” River sidles against Lexie, nudging her with her elbow. “What are you doing with a buffer, tattooed version of Cillian Murphy in your apartment? And what’s with the bruises on his cheek and jaw?”
I close the distance between us. “Got into a wee bit of trouble with a gang. Fortunately, I had me an angel of a florist find me.”
River grips Lexie’s shoulders with both hands, slightly shaking her. “Okay. Lex, I’m only saying this once.” She gestures to me. “You hit the lottery with…”
She trails off, waiting.
“Liam,” I supply.
River clasps Lexie’s hands like she’s delivering the gospel. “Lexie. Liam. Lottery. Got it?”
Lexie’s face turns that lovely shade of pink. “Okay. Duly noted.”
“And he’s coming with us,” River announces.
Lexie’s brows shoot up. “What?”
This is my cue. I step forward, sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her against my side. She fits there perfectly. “Sounds like a grand plan.”
She twists to look at me, biting her lower lip. “Can I have a word with you? In the bedroom?”
River blows us a kiss. “If you need a quickie, babes, just put a sock on the door.”
Flipping River the bird, my Darlin’ shoves me toward the bedroom. I go willingly, letting her close the door behind us.
The second we’re alone, she rounds on me, crossing her arms. “So, what? I can’t go to work, but I can go to the Hamptons for a party?!”
I lower my head and bump noses with her. She’s fierce when she’s riled up, and I love it. “Safety in numbers, Lex.”
She juts a finger at me. “No, no, no. Only River gets to call me that.”
I rise. “Duly noted.”
“Can you even dance in your condition?” she fusses.
“I’ve been to the Hamptons many a time, Darlin’,” I note. “Not all about dancin’.”
“Won’t someone recognize you?”
I shake my head nonchalantly. “Not at this particular party. It’s a masked event.”
Frustrated, she kneads her brow. “Of course it is.”
With a sigh, Lexie drops her arms to her sides. “I’m not about to argue. I’m more afraid of River than you.”
Smart girl.
“Grand.” I tip my imaginary hat to her.
She opens the door, and River is standing there, tapping her foot, her arms crossed like a disapproving mother.
