Holding Strong - Page 56/148

“Hitting on Vanity from what I can tell. That bothers you?”

“That he’s here?” Looking beyond Rowdy, Denver stared daggers into Phelps’s back. “Yes.”

“Not because of Vanity?”

“What?” That sidetracked his attention. “No. Her life is her own.”

“I ask,” Rowdy said, still blocking his way, “because Stack has been bristling since he got here, too.”

Denver searched the crowd and sure enough, Stack sat at a table with a couple of women, but his gaze continually went to Phelps. “He knows the douche.” Maybe he had his own reason for wanting to take him apart.

He’d damn well have to get in line.

“Knows him how?”

Impatient, not that Rowdy gave a shit, Denver rolled a shoulder. “He was around at the after-party when Armie fought.” Unsure of how much to tell him, Denver added, “He hit on Cherry a little too hard until Stack warned him off.” By using Denver as a threat. But hey, whatever worked.

“Well, Vanity doesn’t seem to mind his chitchat.” Rowdy moved into Denver’s line of vision to ensure he had his attention. “If there’s going to be trouble, take it elsewhere.”

Holding up his hands, Denver indicated compliance. “Got it.”

“Thank you.”

Denver didn’t move. “You really think I’d—”

“Stir up trouble? No. But I’ve seen that look before, worn it a few times myself.”

Denver snorted. Rowdy used to wear it more often than not. Since marrying, though, he’d mellowed. A little.

“You’re itching for a fight or a fuck.”

Damn, hadn’t he just thought the same thing? “The first won’t happen in here, you have my word.”

Rowdy must’ve believed him because his frown eased and his mouth went into an amused smile. “And the second?”

“Since the right lady isn’t around, that’s not happening, either.”

“Ah.” The smile turned into a grin. “Hopefully later, then.” Rowdy went about his business, collecting empties off tables, but Denver knew he’d see every little thing that went down.

Instead of heading to the bar, Denver headed for Stack.

When he reached the table, he hooked a chair with his foot, pulled it out and sat, then braced his forearms on the small round tabletop. With speculative smiles and suggestive body scans, the women welcomed him.

Stack barely acknowledged him. He was too preoccupied with his own thoughts. Dark thoughts, given the expression on his face.

Watching his friend drink from a longneck, Denver said, “Got a favor to ask.”

One of the women practically sat in Stack’s lap, her hand on his chest, his free arm around her. Absently, as if he did it out of habit, Stack stroked her narrow hip, then down so that his hand encountered her thigh beneath the hem of a denim miniskirt. “Sure, what is it?”

Model-thin chicks never did it for Denver. Apparently Stack felt differently.

“Need you to lend me a hand with something.” Or more like someone.

Still playing with the chick one-handed, Stack finished off his beer and set the empty aside. “Let’s hear it.”

Giving an apologetic glance to the ladies, Denver said, “Sorry, but it’s best explained in private.”

Nodding, Stack turned and planted a long wet one on the girl, gave her hip a pat and levered her away from him. “If you’ll excuse me?”

She crossed her arms and struck a pissed-off pose.

The other chick sent a hopeful glance at Denver, but he held up his hands. “Sorry. I’m taken.”

“Yeah?” Ignoring his angry lady, Stack grinned. “Cherry?”

Denver nodded.

It took some convincing, but Stack finally got the two pouting ladies to depart.

Never, not once, had Cherry been that tenacious. Whenever Denver had been less than inviting, which sadly had been most of the time, she’d accepted it and moved on.

Had to admit to himself, he respected that about her.

He was also damned grateful that she’d been persistent enough to try that one last time.

“So.” Stack slouched back in the hard chair, the bottle held loosely against his abs. “What’s up? And it better be important given you just chased off my entertainment for the night.”

“Both of them?”

He shook his head. “That’d be one more piece of trouble than I wanted. I leave that headache to Armie.” He glanced at his watch. “Miles is supposed to join me in an hour. The second was hanging around for him.”