The Wedding Rescue, Book Three(11)
7
Leigha
Dylan held the bag of ice against my hand with care, conscious that too much pressure would bring me pain. I could tell he was still riled up from the confrontation with Peter and pissed that I’d hurt myself. I didn’t care about my hand. A little pain was worth seeing Peter bleeding from my punch to his nose. What an ass. I couldn’t believe my sister was really going to marry him. If she’d been a different woman, I’d have told her about Peter, tried to convince her to call it off. Christie wouldn’t care that he was planning to cheat. She’d probably spent the last month personally interviewing for their pool boy—very personally.
Dylan’s free arm came around my waist, pulling me back until I was flush with his chest. Taking a deep breath, I relaxed into him. I didn’t know what kind of cologne he wore, or if that scent was just his soap, but he always smelled so good. He and his friends had changed the subject off me and onto something else. I wasn’t paying attention. Something about vandalism on a construction site.
Our small group drew eyes from all over the casino floor, mostly women checking out the three hot men at the bar. The way Dylan held me, I could barely be seen over his shoulder except by Sam, Axel, and the bartender. That was fine with me. I’d had a little fun joking around with Dylan’s friends, but I only wanted Dylan’s attention. Funny how being with Dylan gave me the confidence to flirt with Sam and Axel. Normally I wouldn’t be able to work up the nerve to speak to men that attractive, but with Dylan at my side, knowing I was his, I was comfortable. The bartender returned and asked for our order.
“What do you want, love?” Dylan asked dipping his head to touch his lips to the shell of my ear. I shivered against him.
“Just water, please. Nothing more to drink.”
“Good girl. I don’t want you falling asleep on me.”
He passed my order along to the bartender and went back to his discussion with Sam and Axel. I could have joined in. They weren’t excluding me. But I was happy to be where I was, cuddled into Dylan, letting my mind drift over the rest of our evening. So far, sex with Dylan had been demanding, mind-blowing, and unexpected. I was both nervous and eager to see what he had in store for me next.
I people watched, occasionally contributing to the conversation when I had something to say. In the time it took us to empty our glasses, three sets of women had come up to us and hit on the guys, Dylan included. They didn’t seem to care that he was glued to me. They propositioned him right over my head. Each time, he politely, yet firmly, pointed out that he was both taken, and not interested. The fourth pair of predatory females was a cut above the others. I didn’t know a lot of beautiful women, but these two were perfection. One a redhead and the other blonde, they were tall, shapely, and exquisitely dressed.
“Well, look who we found,” the redhead said, winding her arm around Sam’s waist. Clearly she knew the guys. The blonde winked at Dylan and kissed Axel on the cheek.
“My favorite troublemakers,” she said. “It’s a good thing Charity had other plans since you have your hands full,” she said to Dylan. His arm around my waist squeezed tight. I wasn’t sure if it was in possession or reassurance.
“I do,” he answered. “Leigha, meet Lacey and Violet.”
I didn’t have my hands free since one was still on ice and the other was trapped by Dylan’s arm, so I nodded and smiled. To my surprise, both women nodded and smiled back.
“Too bad for us,” Violet said from her place beside Sam. Giving Sam a playful elbow in his gut, she went on, “Dylan is the best of these three.”
“Hey,” Sam said in affront. “You’ve never complained before.”
“Not complaining, sweetie. Just pointing out that Dylan is the best catch of the three of you.”
“Because of his business?” I asked, ready to change my cautious approval to dislike if Violet was judging Dylan on his bank account.
“Not that, honey. All three of these boys are loaded. But Sam is a terminal bachelor. Someday Axel and Dylan will both settle down, but not Sam.”
“So what’s wrong with me? Why is Dylan a better catch than I am?” Axel asked, not sounding the least bit concerned that he wasn’t at the top of their list. Considering that Lacey was pressed up against him, he didn’t seem to have cause for worry. Lacey shot him a look that said, ‘Get real.’ Out loud, she said, “You’re a little scary. So serious all the time. And your job isn’t exactly low key.”
“I thought you ran Sinclair Security?” I asked. Axel seemed serious, but I wouldn’t have called him scary.