Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)(2)

Glancing around to make sure no one saw I was empty, I rose to my feet and started toward the waiter nearest me who still had a tray full of untouched champagne. Chin-bobbing and calling out a greeting to people I passed to blend in, I reached the guy in seconds and exchanged my glass for a new one smoothly, without anyone noticing.

Just as I took my first sip of the new bubbly, Remy—one of my non-related family members—passed with another chick.

“Loved your toast,” the chick said with a provocative grin as she trailed her hand up the center of my chest, with the longest, reddest fingernails I’d ever seen. “Damn, you’re a cutie.” Then she winked and kept walking past, her short, tight sparkly gold dress shifting snugly over lush hips and a tiny waist with every step she took.

Without taking my gaze off her, I grabbed Remy’s arm, stalling her at my side. “Who was that?”

“That was Carmen. She’s my cousin.” When my eyebrows lifted with interest, Remy patted my cheek and cooed, “Oh, honey. Don’t even bother. She’s twenty-six.”

An eight-year difference. Meh, that wasn’t a deal breaker for me. Tipping my head to the side to check out the lovely curved backside of twenty-six-year-old Carmen, I said, “I have no issues with experience because she seemed into me. Didn’t she seem into me?”

Oh yeah, she had definitely seemed into me.

Remy’s voice was dry when she answered, “Carmen’s into anything with a penis.”

Grinning, I finally turned my attention to her. “Well, what do you know, I happen to have one of those.”

“Eww.” She wrinkled her nose and immediately backed away from me. “I don’t want to hear about your icky boy parts.” Then she patted my arm with a maternal sigh. “Just...don’t say I didn’t warn you because she can be a man-eater.”

As she started away to catch up with her cousin, I called after her, “Screw careful. She can snack on me anytime she likes.”

She pointed back at me. “Behave, young man.”

Ha! As if. This was a wedding, the prime opportunity to hook up with lonely women seeking a little TLC. And I was just the type of guy to help them realize it was perfectly okay to be single and unattached.

Behaving was the last thought on my mind. In fact, I needed a little misbehavior tonight to help take the edge off more than I wanted to admit. Things at home had been getting a little too intense lately. Temporary escape was crucial.

“Hey, that’s not a new glass of champagne, is it?”

I paused from the sip I was about to take to send Brandt an innocent glance as he strolled toward me, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his own glass. “Of course not.”

He didn’t even pretend to believe me. “Just don’t let Noel catch you. You know what a tight ass he’s been lately.”

I nodded and took another drink. Yeah, did I know. Our oldest brother had plenty of reasons to be losing his shit, but damn, I was beyond ready for his * to loosen again so that stick could fall out of it.

“I live with him,” I said dryly. “You don’t have to remind me.”

Brandt shifted closer, his gaze clouding with worry. “Aspen’s still not getting any better, is she?”

Bothering him with doom and gloom on his wedding day wasn’t what I wanted, but there was really no way to sugarcoat it. So I shook my head miserably, finished my glass, and then stole his, switching him out with my empty.

He didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he only looked more concerned as he watched me gulp from his champagne. “Has he taken her back to the doctor?”

Opening my mouth, I planned to tell him I didn’t want to talk about it. Tonight was for celebrating and merrymaking. We could go back to worrying about our sister-in-law in the morning. For one evening, I just wanted to forget about that shit. Aspen’s problems weren’t going anywhere; they’d still be there tomorrow.

But before I could try to distract him, Asher—Remy’s husband—joined us. “Man.” He bumped his elbow into Brandt’s. “Juli can’t stop staring at you tonight.”

“Juli?” That name perked me to immediate attention. “Julianna’s here?”

I followed Asher’s gaze to a dimly lit table in the back corner that bordered the dance floor. It was empty save for one individual, one of the loveliest individuals to grace the planet.

I have no clue how she did it, but Julianna Radcliffe always managed to look equal parts disdainfully untouchable and wet-dream sexy.

Tonight, her dress was pure sin. She wore a long, strapless light gray number that had a front slit, exposing a perfectly toned leg most the way up her thigh and a bustier top that hugged proud, ample breasts. The paleness of her dress made the tone of her skin appear even darker than usual, which made my stomach knot with tension because I yearned to investigate all that dark, dark skin, see how it felt under my hands, how it tasted against my tongue, how it trembled when I stroked it.

Yet I knew without a shadow of a doubt there was no way that would ever happen because that lady right there was a ball-breaker. You could tell it by the straight-backed, poised way she held herself as if she might as well be behind a boardroom table, doling out punishments to her inferior subordinates, and by the way she had no tolerance for stupidity or players. I swear, her stare alone could shrivel a guy’s family jewels to impotent nothingness. I usually had the itching urge to cover my junk whenever I talked to her.