What bothered him was he wasn't the one with her.
He dragged his palms over his face, groaning. What was up with him? He was terrified she was going to announce that the experiment was over, thank him for the sex, and move on her way toward finding a husband. Yes, he wanted her back in his bed. But last night, just holding her with the stars overhead, he'd been at peace. Happier than he'd been for a long time.
He was falling for her. All of her.
The worst part?
He didn't care anymore what was happening. Since he'd claimed her on the bar, every waking thought revolved around when he could see her again. Hold her. Kiss her. Talk. In record time, it had become more than just physical. He knew every step needed to be carefully trod or she'd break it off, thinking he was just playing around.
He was in so much shit.
"Dude, you look awful." Tristan stopped on the way to his office. Shoes polished to a fine sheen, he cut an impressive figure in his charcoal suit and purple tie. He had on those gold-rimmed glasses he needed for reading, which gave him an even more authoritative look. No wonder clients trusted him with million-dollar renovations. "Everything okay?"
"Someone broke into My Place last night. Had a gun. Raven disarmed him."
Tristan's mouth fell open. "You're kidding me! Is she okay?"
"Yeah, she's fine. Just a bit shaken."
"How the hell did she disarm him?"
Pride radiated in his tone. "Gave him a vicious kick in the face, then in the groin."
"Holy shit."
"What are you two gossiping about now?" Cal held a cup of coffee as he walked in from the kitchen. "We need to reschedule a date to go through Dad's belongings; you both keep canceling on me."
"Raven took down a gunman at My Place," Tristan said.
"Are you fucking kidding? When? Is she okay?"
Dalton groaned. His brothers loved gossip, no matter how they denied it. He started the story again. "She's okay. Some guy high on drugs broke into the bar after the ladies left poker night. Had a gun. Raven kicked him and took him down, grabbed the gun, and called 911. I got there when they were questioning her."
"Morgan and Sydney were there last night."
Morgan appeared, a stack of folders in her hands. "What about last night?"
Cal pulled her to him, as if reassuring himself she was okay. "Baby, did you know that Raven took down a gunman after you left?"
"What?" The papers and folders dropped to the floor. "Is she okay? What happened?"
Everyone looked frantically at Dalton. Ah, hell, this was ridiculous. He'd have to do this in one shot. "Sydney! Brady! Get over here!"
The architect and office manager came hurrying out of their offices. "What is it?" they asked in unison.
"Just so you all know the same exact story, something happened last night at My Place." He explained all the details, answering questions and slowly going over the events as he knew them. Morgan and Sydney looked sick. Cal immediately stroked his fiancée's back with soothing strokes, holding her against him. Tristan took a few steps toward Sydney, reaching out to gently place a hand on her shoulder. She flinched but didn't pull away, eventually leaning a few inches toward him.
"I'm calling her now," Morgan announced. "She can stay with us if she doesn't want to be alone."
"She's out with her aunt. She'll be back home tomorrow. When I left her this morning, she seemed in good spirits. Raven is tough."
Suddenly silence descended. They all stared at him like he'd gone ugly.
"What?" he asked in puzzlement.
Cal cleared his throat. "Umm, dude. You said you left her this morning. Meaning you spent the night. Right?"
Ah, shit.
They looked hungry for the dirt, but damned if he was telling them the details of his personal life. "I was just checking on her."
"Late at night after closing? Early morning, when you like to sleep till noon?"
"I don't sleep till noon! Not since I was sixteen."
Morgan jabbed a finger in the air. "You're deflecting. Look, Dalton, I adore you both and think you're an amazing couple, but, just . . . Well. Just-"
"What?" he demanded.
"Go slow," Tristan cut in. "You've been hot for her for a long time, and you jump into these relationships that seem to blow up, and we just don't want you to screw this one up. Like the rest."
"Or hurt her so she doesn't want to see us or make her cocktails. I'm getting good at poker, too," Sydney said.
Fuming, he glared at his family and friends, who were supposed to have his back. The only one who didn't seem to speak was Cal. He just studied Dalton's face thoughtfully, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. Unbelievable. They still treated him like the big bad fucking wolf, ready to eat poor Little Red Riding Hood. Well, his Red could kick his ass just like she had the gunman's. If he tried to tell them she was holding all the power in this relationship, they wouldn't believe him.