He shoots me a glare as I spin around and hop into my vehicle.
I try to avoid looking out my window, but I can’t resist one last peek before driving away. When I do, Heath’s heading toward his truck, flexing his hand again, a smear of grease on his thumb.
It will be a miracle if I survive the evening without doing something incredibly stupid. My libido is a total hussy at weddings. They’re an open invitation to let loose and make reckless decisions like toying with the idea of sleeping with my friend’s older brother, the one I get ridiculously turned on by every time we verbally spar. And while we’re technically not at the wedding yet, it’s impossible not to let my mind wander into dangerous territory when Heath was just looking at me like I was dinner and he was starved.
It has me thinking I’m not the only one who’s tempted to throw caution to the wind tonight.
Banter As Foreplay
“Have you ever tied a woman to your bed?” Charlie asks casually.
I nearly choke on my beer, gaping at her. “You need a goddamn filter.”
It’s a good thing we’re the only ones left at the table.
“Oh, please,” she scoffs, waving me off. “Don’t act like the thought has never crossed your mind. It’s always the broody, serious types who have secret sex dungeons complete with a wall of whips and chains.”
“I prefer my hand and a paddle,” I deadpan, drinking in the sight of her.
“Careful, Heath,” Charlie warns, taking a sip of her vodka soda. “Keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you want to use that paddle of yours on me.”
Jesus Christ.
If she wasn’t on her second drink, I’d think she was tipsy. But no, this is just Charlie being Charlie, and she’s making it extremely challenging to keep my hands to myself.
Her continuous glucose monitor, or CGM for short, hasn’t even buzzed with an alert tonight. I relax a little, figuring she’s already accounted for the alcohol like she usually does with her diabetes. Regardless, I can’t exactly bring it up, or she’ll wonder why I’m so concerned with her well-being. What would I tell her? That I’ve wanted her for a long time and the idea of anything happening to her makes my heart hammer against my ribs?
My obsession started the night of her twenty-first birthday at the local saloon. She climbed barefoot onto the bar, belting out “Jolene”into an empty beer bottle, her green eyes lit with a wild kind of joy as she danced like she owned the whole damn room.
The problem?
I was a thirty-year-old man pining after my sister’s friend who was far too young for me. Hell, she still is. That hasn’t stopped me from wanting her, leading to this moment when resisting her any longer feels like a losing fight.
I lean back in my chair, resting my beer on my thigh. “Hasn’t anyone told you it’s dangerous to make assumptions, hellcat?”
Charlie scoots her chair closer to mine. “I rather like living on the edge. Besides, you’re obligated to be in a good mood. Your brother just got married.”
“I couldn’t be happier for Walker and Birdie,” I say.
I mean it. Walker found his perfect match, and after everything Birdie’s been through, I’m glad she has him.
Charlie raises a brow. “If that’s true, what’s with the scowl? It’s a wedding, not a funeral.”
“I’m still recovering from you digging your nails into my arms during our walk down the aisle,” I grumble, taking a long pull from my beer. “I’m surprised you didn’t leave puncture wounds.”
She rolls her eyes. “How else was I supposed to get your attention when you started speedwalking like you couldn’t get it over with fast enough? It’s not my fault your timing is terrible, even after we practicedfivetimes at the rehearsal.” She holds up her hand, spreading all five fingers for emphasis.
It was essential I get it over with as quickly as possible, but not for the reasons she probably assumed. It was a challenge to concentrate with her hand tucked in the crook of my arm, and I was barely able to fight the urge to stop in the middle of the aisle and kiss her like I wanted to.
I couldn’t risk people peppering me with questions about why I seemed smitten with the woman I’ve gone to great lengths to keep at a distance. And who, on the surface, it appears I don’t get along with. No one would believe me if I explained that the reason I’m short with her is because I want her so badly it’s making me lose my damn mind.
“Ever heard of using your words?” I ask Charlie, my fingers idly peeling at the label on my beer bottle. “They’re shockingly more effective than a one-sided staring contest in front of a crowd. Now why don’t you go find someone else to torment?”
If Walker had any sense of loyalty, he would’ve made sure Charlie and I weren’t paired together today. But with his twisted sense of humor and how much he enjoys watching me squirm, I’m not surprised he didn’t intervene. Then again, it’s not like he and Birdie had much of a choice. The only other bridesmaid and groomsman were my sister, Briar, and her fiancé, Jensen.
Besides, even if Walker had known how I felt about Charlie, it wouldn’t have changed a thing. He still would have made sure we were paired and probably would have talked Birdie into more wedding party activities that would force Charlie and me together.
Her eyes spark with mischief. “Don’t think I missed overhearing you promise Walker you’d be civil tonight. Too bad for you, I didn’t make the same promise.” I bite back a growl as she boops my nose like a petulant child.
