Lauren is beautiful. She’s tall, almost as tall as Ty in her heels, with straight auburn hair and big blue eyes. She has an athlete’s body, is lean, and when she raises her arms over her head, the short halter top she’s wearing rides up to show off her abs, which are spectacularly defined.
The girl works out.
“Being separated doesn’t mean she’s any less married,” I murmur, and take a pull on my beer.
Ty turns his attention to me, his face sober. “Hasn’t stopped her soon-to-be-ex from fucking anything with two legs.”
“True.” I grimace as I think of that asshole, Jack. “Just watch yourself.”
Ty’s jaw tightens and I follow his gaze to see that Misty has joined Lauren on the floor, dancing and glaring at Cara and Jill.
“Why does Lo hang out with that bitch?” I ask aloud. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t either,” Ty agrees softly.
At the end of the song, the band takes a break and the jukebox starts up. Cara and Jill join us, smiling and panting and not a little sweaty.
“Hey!” Cara greets me, and kisses me soundly.
“Hey yourself, baby.”
Zack takes his shot and then stands, leaning on his cue, and shoots Jill a grin.
She was watching his ass.
“You have a nice ass, King,” Jill remarks with a smirk, and picks up her beer bottle, then frowns when she discovers it’s empty. “Well, shit.”
“I’ll go get more!” Cara offers, and kisses my cheek before sauntering happily to the bar. I watch her move across the room and climb onto a barstool, cross those spectacular legs, showing off her thighs in that short dress, and pull her debit card out of her bra.
“I love her storage system,” Ty remarks, making me laugh.
“So do I.”
“There you are!” Misty is suddenly at my side, and Ty quickly moves away from us, joining Zack and Jill on the other side of the pool table.
Traitor.
“Here I am,” I confirm, and continue to watch Cara. A tourist sits down next to her and smiles at her brightly. My eyes immediately narrow.
The fucker better not touch her.
“I was just saying to Lauren the other day, I haven’t seen you around much lately,” Misty babbles.
“Been busy,” I respond absently, my fists clenching when the asshole tourist drops his arm behind Cara’s back. From this angle I can’t tell if he’s touching her back or just resting his arm on the back of the stool, but it’s too close for comfort.
Cara smiles politely at him and shakes her head no to whatever he’s said.
Good girl.
She places her order and gestures over to me, talking to the stranger, whose smile slips for a second before he winks down at her.
That’s right, asshole, she has a boyfriend.
“And then she said, ‘Well, that’s just silly!’ ” Misty gives me her fake laugh and lays her hand on my forearm, pulling my attention away from Cara.
I quickly grip her wrist in my hand and pull it away from me, dropping it at her side.
“I’m only going to say this one time, Misty.” Her eyes go wide at the hard edge in my voice. “I am not available, and even if I was, I’m not interested. Don’t ever touch me again.”
I dismiss her, not caring that she’s glaring at me as the crowd around us laughs, and seek out Cara once again. She’s still sitting at the bar, the tourist is grinning down at her, and they’re holding shot glasses in the air, toasting.
Cara pounds her shot back and slams the glass on the bar, and I’ve seen enough.
I stomp across the bar and move up beside Cara, glaring at the short, slender man to her left, who is laughing and trying to order them another shot. When he sees me, his face sobers and he grabs his beer and joins his friends.
Cara turns to me, a smile spreading over her face when she sees me. “Hi, babe!”
I cage her in, one hand on the bar and my other arm draped across the back of her stool. I’m not touching her as I lean in and press my lips to her ear so she’s sure to hear every word coming out of my goddamn mouth.
“Let’s get something straight, Carolina. You. Are. Mine. I’m the only man who will be buying you drinks.”
I hear her gasp and see the pulse in her neck speed up.
“Josh, you’re being ridiculous. He was just a nice guy, and it was just one shot.”
“I’m sorry, do I have this wrong?” I back slightly away so she can see my eyes. “Would you rather flirt with and get hit on by other men? Am I wrong to stake a claim? Because just a few hours ago you claimed to love me while I was buried deep inside you.”
She frowns and swallows again, and I know I should feel like a dick for that, but I can’t bring myself to. I need to know the score now.
“You’re not wrong,” she replies softly, and covers my hand with her own. “It felt innocent, Josh. It was just a shot.”
“It was innocent on your part, but not on his, sweetheart. He wants in your pants. Not that I blame him.”
“Just because he wants in my pants doesn’t mean I’d let him go there. Besides”—she smiles up at me and bites her lip, and I know she’s about to be a smart-ass—“I’m not wearing any pants.”
I laugh and shake my head, pull her small hand up to my lips, and kiss her knuckles.
“It made you uncomfortable?” she asks sweetly.
“It pissed me the fuck off,” I reply calmly, and watch her face as I kiss her knuckles again. “I’d rather not repeat it.”