Worth the Risk(30)

“Well, damn. She’s all grown up,” Grady says it with a swear. Maybe I should remind him of his wife, who would likely have some creative payback for him checking out someone else.

Not that I can blame him. I’ve been looking her way a lot more than I want to admit. Especially with Grant’s words from the other day rattling around in my mind. The “she’s nothing like Claire,” and the “even if I participate, I’m the one who has something to gain, not her.”

I still don’t buy it.

She’s standing there just like everyone else, and yet, there is this air about her that sets her apart. The way she holds her head high, her back straight, her eyes sharp with a distrust that makes no sense. Then someone comes up to give her a hug, and I laugh, knowing how much she probably wants to fucking kill me.

Turnabout’s fair play, sweetheart.

I expect her to frown, to be rude and refuse the greeting, but then she smiles. She smiles, and fuck if I can’t take my eyes off her as her expression turns genuine, her laugh rings out, and the people around her hang on her every word. It’s hard to despise someone when, with each look, with each drink, you want to walk across the room and go talk to them.

An elbow hits my arm and jerks my attention from her. “You’re turning her down, why?” Grady asks as he looks over to his wife and shakes his head before looking back at me.

“You make it sound as if she asked me out on a date and I said no.” I laugh and take a sip of who knows what number beer I’ve had. “She asked me to be in a contest, not have a night of hot sex with her. That’s all.”

Hot sex. With Sidney?

I could probably compartmentalize my feelings for a bit and take that on.

Jesus. What am I thinking? Too much beer. Too much bullshit. Too much of a buzz to think straight.

“If she were to ask you out, would you go?” Dylan asks, and I’m already shaking my head no. Grady’s wife should know better.

Asking someone out and having sex with someone are two completely different roads.

“She hasn’t asked.”

“What about a night of hot sex, then?”

Damn it.

“Dylan,” I warn.

“That isn’t a no.” She throws her hands up and laughs as Grady rests an arm over her shoulders, pulls her in closer, and presses a kiss to her temple.

“No,” I murmur.

“That’s such crap,” Grant throws in. “Like utter bullshit. Since when would you say no to that?” He tips his beer in Sidney’s direction and lifts his eyebrows.

I wouldn’t. That’s the plain and simple answer.

“I’ve got a hundred on him sleeping with her,” Grady says to Grant.

“Not taking that bet because I’d lose in a heartbeat.” They high five across the table.

Bastards.

“She’s too much like Claire.” Another soft response, more to myself than to them. Déjà vu takes me back to another place, another time when I was young and stupid and really thought it didn’t matter where you came from or what you did so long as you were in love.

I’ve learned.

“Again, I call bullshit.” Grady snorts.

“The type who’ll reel you in with her looks . . .” I glance her way when her laugh sounds off in perfect timing with my comment. She’s halfway across the bar, but fuck if I can’t hear her as if she were standing right next to me. “Then leave you high and dry because she’s so damn selfish she doesn’t think of anyone but herself.”

And goddamn it if pretty boy Vince Garda didn’t just walk up to her and hand her a drink. She smiles, but it’s the look on his face—the one that says he’s a man determined to leave here with her tonight—that has me gritting my teeth and slipping up on what I just said.

“Whoa. Wait.” Grant throws his arms out in front of him animatedly as his wife, Emerson, tilts her head back and laughs. “Hold up. I thought we were talking about you getting laid. One night. Maybe a few nights—”

“High and dry means you want more than a few nights with her,” Grady finishes for him. I hate when my brothers are in perfect sync like this—reading each other’s minds and finishing each other’s thoughts. I hate it exponentially more when it’s aimed at picking on me. “And honestly, bro, with her, I think you’d prefer low and wet, if you get my drift?”

“Christ,” I swear as I stand from my seat and the room spins slightly. “You two are a bunch of little old ladies.”

“Leave him alone,” Dylan pipes in. “It isn’t his fault the woman going to such great lengths to get him to participate in her contest is drop-fucking-dead gorgeous with legs for days and boobs I’d kill to have.”

“I, for one, like your boobs and legs,” Grady says before kissing her soundly. I roll my eyes.

“You two are sickening. Both sets of you. Christ, can’t a guy just drink in peace without having to watch you make googly eyes at each other?”

“We only make googly eyes because we know we’re getting laid when we get home tonight.” Grady glances in Sidney’s direction and then looks back to me. “The question is, are you? Because you’re sitting here making googly eyes at her.”

I point to the shot of tequila next to my beer and make a show of picking it up and downing it in one fell swoop.