Holy smokes, it wasn’t.
When he finally let her up for air, he brushed her cheek with his thumb and smiled. “I’ll see you tonight at the rec center.”
A reminder, or did he need confirmation that she wouldn’t back out?
Like she’d let a little disagreement throw off her big plans. Not likely.
“I’ll be there.” She forced one foot in front of the other, each step taking her farther away from what she really wanted, which was more of that heated kissing.
More of Stack.
The dogs rushed to join her and almost trampled her on the way down the stairs.
Her painting waited. She needed to finish it. She really did.
But without another thought she set it aside and replaced it with a smaller blank canvas. As she mixed a bit of acrylic paint, she smiled.
Yes, she and Stack had hit a few roadblocks. But like her, he didn’t hold a grudge. Tonight she’d have him all to herself again.
Little by little, she’d win him over—as planned.
* * *
STACK TOOK THE colas from Justice, put them in the fridge, then pointed to the front door.
Wearing jackass grins, both Armie and Justice retreated.
“Care to share the details of your and Vanity’s little chat?” Armie asked.
“No.” He opened the door, and after they’d all stepped out, he locked it and pulled it shut. “How about you tell me what happened after the wedding instead?”
Brows up, Justice bounced his gaze from Stack to Armie. “Something happened after Saint’s wedding?”
Playing it cool, Armie shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Right. Well, Stack was glad to enlighten him. “Last I saw you, Merissa was leading you away.”
A sort of blindsided panic fell over Armie. “The fuck you say.”
“Oh ho,” Justice crowed. “You booked with Rissy and don’t remember it?”
Armie rounded on him. “You don’t say her name!”
Justice rolled in his lips, but his big body shook with silent laughter.
“And you.” Armie bunched his shoulders toward Stack. “Don’t start fucking rumors about Cannon’s baby sis.”
Ah. So now she was “Cannon’s baby sis” when usually they referred to her as Rissy—a pet name Cannon had given her. Was it Armie’s way of reminding himself of her relationship to a friend? “The way I heard it, Cannon’s the one who told her to see that you got home.”
“Bullshit. I don’t need anyone to see any damn thing, especially not Rissy.”
Especially not Rissy, because Stack knew Armie had it for her bad. But there was that baby-sis issue, and few men would dare go there.
Then again, he knew Merissa well enough to know it’d take Cannon’s equal for her to be truly interested. Her brother cast a big shadow, and few could ever step out from under it.
Armie, however, had always been the exception.
The problem, beyond her connection to Cannon, was that Armie had an outrageous, totally warranted reputation. He was a sexual glutton who broke through boundaries with gusto.
Given his preferences for sexual variance, Armie had an almost fanatical avoidance of “nice” girls.
And Merissa was nicer than most.
“Saint,” Justice said, again referring to Cannon’s fight name, “knew you were smashed. He probably wanted her to play your babysitter.”
Armie popped his neck. “I wasn’t so drunk that I don’t remember, you ass. I’m just saying, Rissy hailed me a cab, and I said thanks and goodbye at the curb. End of story.”
Stack nodded toward Armie’s truck. “She left her MO on the back window.”
They all turned, and there, written in the dust on the window it said, “Rissy was here.”
Armie stared at it. Justice grinned.
Rissy often left that particular message to let others know if she missed them in a visit or a call. Apparently she had missed Armie recently—or maybe she’d driven his truck home for him. Who knew?
Now that he’d effectively deflected their interest, Stack got them moving again. “I’m guessing the next wedding will be for Denver and Cherry.”
Armie nudged Justice. “Sounds like the Wolf has marriage on his mind, huh?”
Grinning, Justice threw a massive arm around Stack, almost knocking him over. “That so, Wolf?”
“What’s with the fight names today?”
“Avoidance?” Armie accused Stack. “Okay, got it. Well, I can help you with that. See, we can talk instead about how Justice prefers his fight moniker to what he got saddled with at birth.”
When he finally let her up for air, he brushed her cheek with his thumb and smiled. “I’ll see you tonight at the rec center.”
A reminder, or did he need confirmation that she wouldn’t back out?
Like she’d let a little disagreement throw off her big plans. Not likely.
“I’ll be there.” She forced one foot in front of the other, each step taking her farther away from what she really wanted, which was more of that heated kissing.
More of Stack.
The dogs rushed to join her and almost trampled her on the way down the stairs.
Her painting waited. She needed to finish it. She really did.
But without another thought she set it aside and replaced it with a smaller blank canvas. As she mixed a bit of acrylic paint, she smiled.
Yes, she and Stack had hit a few roadblocks. But like her, he didn’t hold a grudge. Tonight she’d have him all to herself again.
Little by little, she’d win him over—as planned.
* * *
STACK TOOK THE colas from Justice, put them in the fridge, then pointed to the front door.
Wearing jackass grins, both Armie and Justice retreated.
“Care to share the details of your and Vanity’s little chat?” Armie asked.
“No.” He opened the door, and after they’d all stepped out, he locked it and pulled it shut. “How about you tell me what happened after the wedding instead?”
Brows up, Justice bounced his gaze from Stack to Armie. “Something happened after Saint’s wedding?”
Playing it cool, Armie shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Right. Well, Stack was glad to enlighten him. “Last I saw you, Merissa was leading you away.”
A sort of blindsided panic fell over Armie. “The fuck you say.”
“Oh ho,” Justice crowed. “You booked with Rissy and don’t remember it?”
Armie rounded on him. “You don’t say her name!”
Justice rolled in his lips, but his big body shook with silent laughter.
“And you.” Armie bunched his shoulders toward Stack. “Don’t start fucking rumors about Cannon’s baby sis.”
Ah. So now she was “Cannon’s baby sis” when usually they referred to her as Rissy—a pet name Cannon had given her. Was it Armie’s way of reminding himself of her relationship to a friend? “The way I heard it, Cannon’s the one who told her to see that you got home.”
“Bullshit. I don’t need anyone to see any damn thing, especially not Rissy.”
Especially not Rissy, because Stack knew Armie had it for her bad. But there was that baby-sis issue, and few men would dare go there.
Then again, he knew Merissa well enough to know it’d take Cannon’s equal for her to be truly interested. Her brother cast a big shadow, and few could ever step out from under it.
Armie, however, had always been the exception.
The problem, beyond her connection to Cannon, was that Armie had an outrageous, totally warranted reputation. He was a sexual glutton who broke through boundaries with gusto.
Given his preferences for sexual variance, Armie had an almost fanatical avoidance of “nice” girls.
And Merissa was nicer than most.
“Saint,” Justice said, again referring to Cannon’s fight name, “knew you were smashed. He probably wanted her to play your babysitter.”
Armie popped his neck. “I wasn’t so drunk that I don’t remember, you ass. I’m just saying, Rissy hailed me a cab, and I said thanks and goodbye at the curb. End of story.”
Stack nodded toward Armie’s truck. “She left her MO on the back window.”
They all turned, and there, written in the dust on the window it said, “Rissy was here.”
Armie stared at it. Justice grinned.
Rissy often left that particular message to let others know if she missed them in a visit or a call. Apparently she had missed Armie recently—or maybe she’d driven his truck home for him. Who knew?
Now that he’d effectively deflected their interest, Stack got them moving again. “I’m guessing the next wedding will be for Denver and Cherry.”
Armie nudged Justice. “Sounds like the Wolf has marriage on his mind, huh?”
Grinning, Justice threw a massive arm around Stack, almost knocking him over. “That so, Wolf?”
“What’s with the fight names today?”
“Avoidance?” Armie accused Stack. “Okay, got it. Well, I can help you with that. See, we can talk instead about how Justice prefers his fight moniker to what he got saddled with at birth.”
