Wyatt laughs and squeezes my hand. "So let's hear the rest."
"Okay … Casey is Hunter and Brody's little sister and Gabby's best friend … They grew up together and are a few years younger than you, Hunter, and Brody. Casey isn't involved with anyone and in your words, 'Everyone despairs of her ever settling down' … or something to that extent."
"You're three for four," he says. "Let's hear the last one."
Taking a deep breath, I blow it out. "Okay … last to round out your posse is Savannah, who is a photographer, but was actually cleaning houses for a famous author named Gavin, who is originally from England. Savannah doesn't have long ties to all of you, but was a friend of the girls and Casey's roommate at some point. She and Gavin are the newest to your bunch, and they aren't married … not even engaged, but they have a little girl named Clare."
Wyatt stops our progress and turns to me, wrapping his hands around my waist. Pulling me in tight, he says, "That's impressive you remembered all of that."
"It's the FBI in me … paying attention to details," I say with a grin before planting a quick kiss on his chin.
"The biggest thing you have to remember is that despite the fact they can be loud, sometimes obnoxious, and completely nosy in an overbearing sort of way, they really are the greatest. You're going to love them."
"I can't wait," I tell him, attempting to step out of his grasp so we can go in.
He doesn't let me go though, his arms banding around me tighter. Wyatt pulls me in close until our bodies are flush with each other. "And, as much as I adore my friends and want you to meet them … have a good time … whatever, I don't plan on sharing you the entire night. We'll stay for a few drinks, and then we're leaving."
"Yes sir, Officer," I tease with a snappy salute … and then he kisses me.
Hard.
Deep.
Possessively.
When he pulls back, I hum low in my throat. "Mmmm … what was that for?"
"Because I can't seem to fucking help myself around you," he mutters as he grabs my hand and starts stalking to the entrance door.
I lower my head so he can't see the grin on my face and keep it tilted down until we step inside.
And wow … this place is so cool. There's a large bar to my right that runs down the length of the wall done in a rich, dark stain with a brass foot railing along the bottom. The floors are done in what looks to be reclaimed wood, also polished to a dark sheen. The walls, however, are painted in texturized blues of about three shades and swirled to resemble large ocean waves. The decor is simple but speaks to the owner's history … a variety of framed prints showcasing various surfers, along with an eclectic mix of surfing memorabilia. A digital jukebox sits in the far corner, but that's all I can see as Wyatt is turning left and headed down a short hallway that intersects with another that seems to lead back to the bathrooms.
We emerge out into an even larger area than where we entered with a bar that's easily twice as big as the one out front. It too, is done in dark stained wood with the brass foot railing. Mirrored glass with accent lighting reflects the various bottles of liquor and glasses on the shelving, and five keg taps are mounted at the very center of the bar. Three bartenders move efficiently, fulfilling orders to customers that are standing two deep. I can hear muffled music coming from the back of the room where there is a door, which I can tell must lead to the rear deck.
"There's a live band tonight on the back deck … actually every Saturday night during the summer months," Wyatt says and starts leading that way.
I look around as I follow along behind him. The place is packed, but I don't fail to notice numerous women checking Wyatt out as he walks by.
Yeah, girls … I get it. He's pretty damn hot.
I squeeze his hand, and he reflexively squeezes me back.
When he reaches the back of the bar, he pushes open the glass door and we step out onto the deck. Even though the temperature is hovering around the low eighties, the breeze off the Atlantic immediately feels refreshing. It's a cloudy night but the cover isn't complete, and I can see part of the silver moon peeking out. It makes the edges of the clouds glow, and the water sparkles from the cast off.
Wyatt winds us through several tables until we reach the back of the decking where a group of people stands, holding drinks. I immediately recognize Gabby as she stands next to a tall, gorgeous man with golden-blond hair just a little longer than Wyatt's. A quick slide of my gaze over a few feet and I immediately see another man that is his identical twin talking to a dark-haired man, so I know deductively this must be Hunter and Brody Markham. I'm going to guess that Hunter is the one talking to Gabby since he seems to be eating her up with his eyes while they converse. Three other women stand talking together … completing the group. The first one I notice is a leggy blonde who could be a model for Victoria's Secret. Based on her coloring and height, I'm going to guess that's Brody and Hunter's sister, Casey. One woman is classically beautiful in the face and has a short, pixie haircut, while the last woman has long, dark hair past her shoulders. I don't know enough about who these are, so I'll have to wait for Wyatt to make the introductions.