Both Lynn and Tabitha had grinned over that.
Now, fifteen minutes after she’d arrived in the room, Vanity wasn’t sure how to proceed. They were waiting for the doctor to sign Lynn out of the hospital and give them the discharge instructions. In that time, she’d run out of inane conversation, yet Tabitha and Lynn continued to watch her, almost as they would an oddity. Did they expect her to do tricks?
Into the silence, Tabitha sat forward and blurted, “How is it that Stack’s in a tux and you’re in jeans?”
Stack zeroed in on her, maybe thinking she’d spill the beans about their special arrangement. Not likely. She could only imagine how his mother and sister would react to that.
Though he tried to look relaxed, the thighs beneath her bottom were taut, and as she repeatedly traced his shoulder blades and pronounced muscles of his back, she felt the tension coiling.
“He drove me home,” Vanity explained, sticking to partial truths. “I changed out of my dress to help unload all the wedding gifts from his trunk, but then we got the call that your mother was hurt.”
“Hmm.” His mother, a truly attractive woman despite the physical evidence of her recent mishap, took her shrewd gaze from Stack to Vanity and back again. “So you’d gone to the wedding together?”
“Yes.” Vanity lightly patted his back, letting him know to trust her. “I had to beg and plead because, well, you do realize that Stack is date-phobic.”
“Date-phobic?” Tabitha asked.
“You didn’t know?”
His tone a clear warning, Stack said, “Vanity.”
She ignored him but leaned in to share, sotto voce, “He doesn’t want any woman getting ideas. So while he doesn’t lack female company, he mostly just hooks up at Rowdy’s bar or sometimes with the different women who frequent the rec center.”
Both ladies were wide-eyed as she divulged those illicit details.
“Vanity,” Stack said, “is best friends with Cannon’s wife. They knew each other in California, and since Yvette moved here, Vanity recently did, too.” He gave her a wicked smile. “Now she’s one of those women who frequent the rec center.”
“True enough,” Vanity said with a shrug. Just to keep him on his toes, she tweaked him with some observations. “There is, of course, serious man-candy inhabiting the rec center. Hot fighters with hotter bodies.” She bobbed her eyebrows. “But still, Stack stands out.”
Stack gave a long-suffering sigh.
Fascinated, Lynn asked, “You like the looks of Stack, is that it?”
“Well, I’m not dead. Of course I appreciate how sexy he is.”
Tabitha snickered.
“But,” Lynn continued, “you think all the other men at the gym are also attractive?”
“Well, sure.” Vanity tipped her head. “Have you met his fighter friends?”
“Many of them, yes.”
“Then you know what I mean.” Clearly Lynn hoped to get a lead on her feelings for Stack, but until Vanity made it clear to Stack herself, she figured it’d be best to keep her secrets.
Changing the subject, Tabitha leaned toward her brother. “Did she really beg and plead with you?”
Stack turned those smoky blue eyes on Vanity, and she gulped, barely able to keep her carefree smile in place. The corners of his sexy mouth lifted just enough to suggest she might regret taunting him.
Because, yes, she’d begged—but not for a date.
Only while they were in bed, when Stack had her on the cusp of release, had she pleaded with him.
“No,” Vanity said suddenly, tearing her gaze from Stack’s. “No, I didn’t really plead. I wouldn’t.” Her laugh sounded ridiculous and far too phony. “But Stack is reasonable, so when I asked him to accompany me, as friends so I wouldn’t have to go alone, he agreed.”
From behind her, a male voice said, “No way would you have to go anywhere alone.”
Stack went rigid, then deliberately remote.
Interesting. So he didn’t want to upset his mother by giving his dislike of Phil free rein?
Seeming oblivious—or maybe secure in the fact that Stack wouldn’t cause a scene in the hospital—f’ing Phil strode toward his wife.
Leaving Stack’s lap, Vanity took a strategic stance between the two men.
Phil smiled at her, and the idiot’s gaze dipped over her body.
Silently seething, Stack rose to his feet, all six feet of bad attitude and honed ability.
Would he cause a scene here? God, she hoped not.
Now, fifteen minutes after she’d arrived in the room, Vanity wasn’t sure how to proceed. They were waiting for the doctor to sign Lynn out of the hospital and give them the discharge instructions. In that time, she’d run out of inane conversation, yet Tabitha and Lynn continued to watch her, almost as they would an oddity. Did they expect her to do tricks?
Into the silence, Tabitha sat forward and blurted, “How is it that Stack’s in a tux and you’re in jeans?”
Stack zeroed in on her, maybe thinking she’d spill the beans about their special arrangement. Not likely. She could only imagine how his mother and sister would react to that.
Though he tried to look relaxed, the thighs beneath her bottom were taut, and as she repeatedly traced his shoulder blades and pronounced muscles of his back, she felt the tension coiling.
“He drove me home,” Vanity explained, sticking to partial truths. “I changed out of my dress to help unload all the wedding gifts from his trunk, but then we got the call that your mother was hurt.”
“Hmm.” His mother, a truly attractive woman despite the physical evidence of her recent mishap, took her shrewd gaze from Stack to Vanity and back again. “So you’d gone to the wedding together?”
“Yes.” Vanity lightly patted his back, letting him know to trust her. “I had to beg and plead because, well, you do realize that Stack is date-phobic.”
“Date-phobic?” Tabitha asked.
“You didn’t know?”
His tone a clear warning, Stack said, “Vanity.”
She ignored him but leaned in to share, sotto voce, “He doesn’t want any woman getting ideas. So while he doesn’t lack female company, he mostly just hooks up at Rowdy’s bar or sometimes with the different women who frequent the rec center.”
Both ladies were wide-eyed as she divulged those illicit details.
“Vanity,” Stack said, “is best friends with Cannon’s wife. They knew each other in California, and since Yvette moved here, Vanity recently did, too.” He gave her a wicked smile. “Now she’s one of those women who frequent the rec center.”
“True enough,” Vanity said with a shrug. Just to keep him on his toes, she tweaked him with some observations. “There is, of course, serious man-candy inhabiting the rec center. Hot fighters with hotter bodies.” She bobbed her eyebrows. “But still, Stack stands out.”
Stack gave a long-suffering sigh.
Fascinated, Lynn asked, “You like the looks of Stack, is that it?”
“Well, I’m not dead. Of course I appreciate how sexy he is.”
Tabitha snickered.
“But,” Lynn continued, “you think all the other men at the gym are also attractive?”
“Well, sure.” Vanity tipped her head. “Have you met his fighter friends?”
“Many of them, yes.”
“Then you know what I mean.” Clearly Lynn hoped to get a lead on her feelings for Stack, but until Vanity made it clear to Stack herself, she figured it’d be best to keep her secrets.
Changing the subject, Tabitha leaned toward her brother. “Did she really beg and plead with you?”
Stack turned those smoky blue eyes on Vanity, and she gulped, barely able to keep her carefree smile in place. The corners of his sexy mouth lifted just enough to suggest she might regret taunting him.
Because, yes, she’d begged—but not for a date.
Only while they were in bed, when Stack had her on the cusp of release, had she pleaded with him.
“No,” Vanity said suddenly, tearing her gaze from Stack’s. “No, I didn’t really plead. I wouldn’t.” Her laugh sounded ridiculous and far too phony. “But Stack is reasonable, so when I asked him to accompany me, as friends so I wouldn’t have to go alone, he agreed.”
From behind her, a male voice said, “No way would you have to go anywhere alone.”
Stack went rigid, then deliberately remote.
Interesting. So he didn’t want to upset his mother by giving his dislike of Phil free rein?
Seeming oblivious—or maybe secure in the fact that Stack wouldn’t cause a scene in the hospital—f’ing Phil strode toward his wife.
Leaving Stack’s lap, Vanity took a strategic stance between the two men.
Phil smiled at her, and the idiot’s gaze dipped over her body.
Silently seething, Stack rose to his feet, all six feet of bad attitude and honed ability.
Would he cause a scene here? God, she hoped not.
