“He’s with Harlen and the guys tonight. I guess they’re going to be at the compound,” I say, then look at July. “Is Wes going to be with them?”
“Yeah, he’s meeting up with them after he drops us off.” She smiles.
“Nice, so we have free rein.” April grins, and I know that grin. I also know that means we’re all going to be in trouble before the night is over if we’re not careful.
“I’m not getting drunk,” I mutter to her, and her brows snap together.
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.” I shake my head, and she plants her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes further.
“Yes, you are.”
“Do we really need to argue over getting drunk?” December asks, exasperated, flopping back onto my bed and grumbling at the ceiling about how annoying we are.
“We argue about everything,” July points out the God’s honest truth. It’s like an unspoken rule in the sister handbook.
Thou shalt argue about every single thing under the sun when in the presence of your sisters.
“Are the girls meeting us at the restaurant?” I ask, changing the subject before we all start arguing about arguing, which is something we would do.
“Yep, they’re already there waiting on us,” July confirms, referring to Jax’s fiancée, Ellie, and our cousins Ashlyn, Hannah, Willow, and Harmony, leaving out Nalia, since she’s in Colorado with her mom and probably won’t be home until Christmas.
“Okay, so let’s go,” I sigh, once I finish putting in my earrings.
“At least pretend to be excited,” I hear murmured from behind me, but I ignore that and head out of the room toward the living room, where I find May, wearing a long black dress that ties at her shoulders, cuddled up on the couch with Ninja.
“I need a man in my life,” she murmurs when she sees us.
“Maybe if you didn’t turn every single guy down when they hit on you, you’d have a man,” April says, picking up her purse from the couch.
“And maybe if you didn’t sleep with every single guy you met, you wouldn’t be a slut,” May replies, and April glares. April and May live together and have always been more like best friends than sisters, so I’m not surprised by their constant badgering anymore.
“Can we just get along for the night?” December pleas, looking at each of us with the same glare our mom used to give us when we were little and misbehaving.
“This is us getting along,” July says, and she’s not wrong. Us not getting along consists of rolling around on the floor, pulling each other’s hair—something we still do from time to time.
“Let’s just go,” I mumble, tucking my slim black purse under my arm as I head for the door, listening to the girls following behind me.
“Jesus,” Wes growls from the end of the sidewalk, where he’s waiting outside his SUV. If I didn’t think he’d be pissed, I would laugh at the look on his face. “Babe, where the fuck is the rest of your dress?” he asks, and July giggles then spins in a circle.
“This is all of my dress.” She smiles, and his nostrils flare and his fists clench.
“Maybe I should go with you guys.”
“You are not coming with us,” April puts in, opening the backdoor. “It’s girls’ night, not ‘girl-and-hot-annoying-husband’ night,” she finishes, before scooting into the backseat.
“Sorry, honey, you’re not invited.” July grins, placing her hands against Wes’s chest, pushing up to touch her mouth to his.
“You’re in so much trouble when you get home,” he grumbles, and I giggle then stop when his eyes slice to me. “I’m guessing Evan didn’t see you in that dress.”
“Evan won’t care,” I mutter, and he raises a brow, making me wonder if I should have worn a different dress. “He won’t,” I repeat, even though I’m not sure if that’s true as I stomp past him to the backdoor, ignoring his chuckle as I follow December into the backseat, followed by May.
“Did you tell them the rules?” he asks July, as he slides in behind the wheel.
“The rules are there are no rules,” April says, and Wes’s head turns to scowl at her over his shoulder.
“There sure as fuck are rules.”
“I don’t know how July puts up with you,” April gripes, glaring at him.
“Let’s just go. I’ll make sure we don’t get into any trouble,” December says, and Wes’s eyes move to her.
“The rules,” he begins, ignoring April’s huff as he backs out of my driveway. “You guys do not take drinks from anyone. You don’t leave your drinks unattended, and you stick to each other like glue.”
“Rules two and three are acceptable, but rule number one is vetoed,” April chimes in, and I start to laugh but bite my lip when Wes’s eyes meet mine in the mirror and narrow.
“You can either follow the rules, or I follow you guys and babysit. Your choice.”
“Whatever,” April grumbles under her breath, but smartly doesn’t say anything else. The rest of the ride is silent, and when we make it to the restaurant, we all pile out onto the sidewalk while we wait for July, who is talking to Wes, doing a whole lot of eye rolling and hand movements at whatever he’s telling her.
“He’s so bossy. How the hell does she put up with that?” April asks, as we watch Wes wrap his hand around the back of July’s neck and tug her forward, until his mouth is an inch from hers.
“You do know that when you find a guy, he’s probably going to be a million times worse?” May asks, and she is probably right. It’s going to take a different kind of man to tame April.
“I think it’s sweet,” December whispers, bumping my shoulder with hers.
“You would.” April rolls her eyes at me then walks over and taps on the driver’s side window, yelling, “Let her up. It’s time to go.”
Surprisingly, Wes lets July go then rolls down the window, looking at each of us demanding, “Be good and remember the rules.”
“We’ll be fine.”
July smiles, and Wes smiles back, muttering, “Be good, baby,” before driving off.
“Finally, sheesh! I thought he would never leave,” April says under her breath, threading her arm through July’s and leading her inside the restaurant, followed by the rest of us.
“How are things with you and Evan?” December asks as soon as we’re seated.
“We’re good.”
“Thank God he’s not crazy like this one’s man,” April mumbles, jerking her thumb at July.
“Obviously, you haven’t met Evan.” July smiles and I shrug. I love that he’s protective and possessive, and I don’t care what that says about me as a woman.
“He didn’t inspect her outfit, so obviously he’s not psycho possessive like Wes.”
“Is my dress that bad?” I ask, and all eyes at the table turn to look at me, each look saying the same thing: Are you seriously asking that question? “Okay,” I grumble, looking down at my dress. I know it’s a little flirty, but I really don’t think it’s that provocative.
“Just saying if Evan sees you in that dress, you’re in for a good night.” July smiles, and my eyes land on Ellie, Jax’s fiancée, and I watch her smooth out her very clingy dress, blushing when her eyes meet mine.
“Now tell us why you were talking to yourself,” December says, and I glare at her.
“I wasn’t talking to myself.”
“What do you mean talking to yourself?” May asks, and I let out a frustrated breath. I may as well get this over with.
“I can’t say ‘I love you’ to Evan. Every time I try to tell him that I love him back, the words won’t come out.”
“Why not?” Harmony asks, and my eyes go to her.
“I don’t know. Every time I try to say it back, I can’t. The words literally won’t come out of my mouth.”
“You’re probably holding on to some anger,” July says, and I shake my head.
“I’m not. I forgave him, completely forgave him,” I say, looking around for the waiter
. I need wine and lots and lots of wine.
“Maybe you should just write it down and tell him that way,” April chimes in.
“Don’t listen to her,” May frown’s, looking at April like she’s crazy.
“Don’t tell her not to listen to me,” April snaps back, glaring at her.
“It will happen when you’re ready for him to know,” July says, leaning into my side. I nod, even though I know now is the time. It’s killing me that he doesn’t know how I feel, and I don’t want him to think I don’t love him. Maybe I should just write it down on a piece of paper and give it to him.
“Enough talk about guys. Let’s drink,” Ashlyn demands, and April leans across the table, giving her a high-five.
“Yes! No more guy talk,” she agrees.
As if on cue a young guy makes his way over to our table. “I’m Cori. I’ll be your waiter tonight. What can I get you ladies to drink?” He says, coming to stand at the end of our table.
“Tequila,” Ashlyn requests, and I look over at her as she shrugs then mutters, “If you knew what my day was like, you would understand.”
“Is it Dillon again?” July asks, and Ellie giggles as Ashlyn looks at her and glares, and then looks at July and growls.
“We’re not saying his name anymore. From this day on, he doesn’t exist.”
“Who’s Dillon?” Willow asks, and July fans herself, whispering, “Dillon is a tall glass of hotne—”
“Dillon is a dick and doesn’t exist outside of the office, where I unfortunately have to be subjected to his dickheadedness,” Ashlyn says, cutting July off, and I make a mental note to ask July about Dillon, or to go by Ashlyn’s office so I can get a look at Dillon myself. There is obviously more to the story than Ashlyn is letting on.
“Umm… so is everyone drinking tequila?” our waiter asks, breaking into the conversation, and we all laugh.
April exclaims, “Tequila all around!”
Leaning my head back, I look up at the ceiling, knowing exactly how this night is going to end. I just hope I don’t regret it in the morning.
“Motherfucker.” Turning my head at the sound of Evan’s deep, rumbling voice, a voice I would know anywhere, I smile, listening as giggles break out around me.
“Hey, honey,” I breathe, as I sway toward him on my stool.
“You wasted?” he asks, dropping his eyes from my mouth to the top of my dress, and I notice they darken when he does.
“Yep.” I grin then press my lips together and lean forward even more, whispering loudly, “I only bought one drink.” I hold up a finger then point to the glasses in front of me. “All of these were free.” I smile. “Isn’t that amazing?”
“Free?” His brows draw together and he crosses his arms over his chest while looking in front of me, where there are at least ten shot glasses, with four of them now empty.
“Free,” I concur, looking around the table at my girls when I notice they have all gone quiet. I also notice the table is surrounded by men, men that include a pissed-off looking Wes and Jax. “Um… we all got free drinks,” I say quietly, wanting to take the heat off of only me, when it seems I said the wrong thing.
“Girls’ night is over,” Jax cuts in.
I look at him and cry, throwing my hands in the air, “It can’t be over! We just started having fun.” And we did. The start of the night kind of sucked, because Dillon the Dick, who also happens to be Dillon the fuck hot gorgeous—like toss-your-panties-at-him gorgeous—showed up at the restaurant we were at. That wouldn’t have been so bad, except for when he saw Ashlyn, he made a beeline for our table to say hi, which under any other circumstances would have been nice. But his fiancée was with him, and she is not only a bitch, but a screaming bitch at that. She took one look at our table and made a face like she was witnessing a group of zombies eating the last human left on planet earth then made a snide comment about Ashlyn. The only good thing about that was witnessing Dillon tell her to shut the hell up. Even though he didn’t use those words exactly.
“Men bought you girls drinks?” Wes asks, cutting into my thoughts, and my eyes focus on July, who bites her lip then looks around at us for help, while April smiles and Ashlyn giggles.
“They were being nice, and as you can see, we are here alone, so technically, we’re still following your rules,” April chimes in un-helpfully.
I look up at Evan and ask quietly when I notice that he hasn’t come any closer or touched me, “You’re not mad, are you?”
“Mad, no. Pissed, yes,” he says in a tone I’ve never heard from him before, a tone that sends goose bumps sliding across my skin.
“Why?” I frown.
“Do you want a list?” he asks, and I think about it for a second then nod like the drunk I am.
“Walking into a bar, seeing men stare at you in that dress is enough to make me mad. Those same men buying your drinks is a big fucking no.”
“I like my dress,” I inform him drunkenly, ignoring the rest of what he said.
“That’s good, baby, and I’m glad you got to wear it once before I rip that shit to shreds and toss it in the trash.”
“You’re not ripping my dress to shreds,” I breathe, putting my hands over the lace covering my chest. “This dress cost me almost a hundred dollars, and that was after it was marked down two times,” I inform him, holding up two fingers, and watch his eyes heat further as he takes a step toward me, crowding me against the table with one hand at the back of my neck, the other on my knee.
“This dress,” he murmurs just loud enough for me to hear, while sliding his hand up my thigh under the hem, “is fucking hot. You do not wear a dress like this unless you’re with your man.”
“Oh,” I whisper, absently hearing someone say, “I told you so,” from behind me.
“Oh,” he replies, looking down at the top of my dress. The look in his eyes conveys he’s either really, really pissed or really, really turned on, and I hope for my sake it’s the latter.
“I don’t want to leave!” Ellie cries, and I pull my eyes from Evan’s and look across the table, where Ellie is sitting with her hands wrapped around the edge of the table, holding on like it’s a life preserver.
“I don’t have a problem bringing the table with us when we leave, Ellie, but one way or another, you’re coming home with me now,” Jax growls.
“You can’t take the table. Isss not yours ta take,” she slurs, glaring at him.
“Oh, Lord,” December murmurs, picking up one of the shot glasses from the tabletop, shooting the creamy liquor back, and then picking up another, doing the same, before muttering, “I’ll clear the table,” which makes me break into a fit of giggles.
“I’ll help.” I giggle louder, picking up one of the shots, only to have it snatched out of my grasp. “Hey! I was going to drink that,” I complain.
“You’re done,” Evan says, placing the shot glass down with a thud.
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Baby, if you think that, then you’ve obviously gotten shit confused.”
“No, I don’t. I’m my own woman. I make my own choices.”
“No, you’re my woman. Mine, and like I said, you’re done.” He pulls me off my stool and into his warm chest.
“You can’t just act like a caveman, Evan,” I shout back, glaring up into his handsome face.
“Caveman?” He grins a wicked grin that has my girly parts tingling, then before I know what’s happening, I’m up over his shoulder with his hand on the back of my thighs, thankfully keeping my dress down and me from flashing everyone my panties, as he carries me, screaming, “Put me down now!” out of the bar and down the street to his truck.
“I can’t believe you,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, as I glare out the front window of The Beast. No one came to my aid when Evan carried me out of the bar and down the street yelling. No one even seemed to care that a man was carrying a woman over his shoulder, hollering into the night, as he walked casually down the sidewal
k. “What kind of world do we live in that you can just carry me, an unwilling woman, around without someone stopping to ask if everything is okay?”
“Babe,” he mutters. I hear the smile in his voice and turn to look at him to see if I’m right, that he thinks this is funny. “This isn’t funny!” I cry when I see his grin. “I mean seriously! Why are there not police cars following us right now? For all any of those people know, you could be a crazy person! You could be taking me to your house in the hills, where you plan to hide me away in a secret room built in your basement.”
“You need to stop watching so much TV,” he laughs.
“You would think that, since you’re the one who kidnapped me,” I mutter under my breath.
“Not sure the cops will think taking the woman I live with home to the house we live in together is kidnapping.”
“Tomayto, tomahto.”
“How is it, one second, I’m seriously pissed at you, and the next, all I can think is how you’re really fucking adorable when you’re drunk?”
“First, you don’t have a reason to be pissed at me. I didn’t do anything wrong. And second, I am really adorable, so that’s not surprising.” I snap.
“I do have a reason to be pissed, baby.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do. You’re not a man, so you will never get it, but I have a dick. I know what every man in that bar was thinking, and I also know that none of it was PG.”
“Whatever,” I sigh, refusing to admit he’s right, even though he probably is.
“You’re still in for it when we get home, so don’t think you’re off the hook,” he says, and my core clenches at his tone.
“What does that mean?” I ask, as we turn onto our block.
“You’ll see,” he says, pulling into the driveway and putting the truck in park. His body turns toward me and his hand rests casually over the steering wheel as his eyes scan me. “You’re beautiful.”
“Um…” I lick my lips, wondering where he’s going with this.
“The first time I saw you, I knew there was something about you that I had to have, and every moment I have spent with you since has given me a taste of something I want more of. I’ll never get enough of you.”