Take the Fall (Take the Fall, #1)(28)
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jase blink a little too fast. “No. I don’t think she’ll dig it.”
“How do you know what she’ll dig?”
“Girls like her get tramp stamps and ankle tats in the shape of hearts or some shit like that. Not my thing.”
My jaw drops. “Now who’s being all uppity?”
“I’m not.” He pulls the car into the drive, and I frown when I see who’s waiting for him.
“Jase,” Giselle squeals, jumping up and down. Of course, she makes no effort to move toward him. She’s waiting for him to come to her. If I were in her place and hadn’t seen my man in years, then I’d be jumping his ass before he could get out of the car.
“Please, Rowan, don’t ever bring Piper to get a tattoo,” he says, his voice pleading.
“What about your party?” I ask lightly.
“She’s coming, right?”
“Yeah, she’s coming.”
He grabs me up in a hug. “Thanks, brat.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.” He gets out of the car, and Giselle finally attacks him, her long legs wrapping around his waist. I shudder and move to the driver’s seat, backing out of there before I see what can’t be unseen. I wouldn’t put it past Giselle to screw him where they’re standing in the middle of the driveway.
Automatically, I drive home. My heart pounds the closer I get, but when I don’t see Seth’s truck, it drops to my feet. Stop getting excited, you idiot. Then you won’t get disappointed.
I check the time on my phone. Boyd and the guys have just left for the Double Deuce. A night out with the guys is exactly what I need.
Chapter 9
Seth
I almost spit out my drink when Rowan comes walking in the Double Deuce, wearing a dress that barely covers her tits or her ass. Her slender, tanned legs look about a million miles long, thanks to the f*ck-me heels on her feet.
“Does she usually dress like that?” I start to ask Boyd, but judging by the shocked look on his face, my guess is the answer would be no.
“Am I too late?” she asks, sliding that baby blue gaze of hers right over me like I’m not sitting a couple of feet away. This close I can see the dark liner around her eyes and the red lipstick that makes me think about all the things her sexy mouth can do.
I shift in my seat, my jeans growing uncomfortably tight as my dick presses against my zipper. My physical reaction to her doesn’t make me happy. I shouldn’t be affected like this. We haven’t touched, haven’t kissed, in days and she’s ignoring me as much as I’m ignoring her, but damn it, I want to feast on those lips. That primal part of me, the one the Marines found and honed to a deadly weapon of war, wants to throw her over my shoulder and find the nearest bed.
“Nope,” Boyd says, sliding off his stool to lean against the bar. “We’ve just gotten started.”
Her eyes alight on Xavier, and she smiles. “Congrats again. Let me buy you a drink.”
Xavier glances at me and then back at Rowan. “Thanks, but Seth already took care of me.”
Her gaze briefly flashes to mine. She shrugs. “Can’t compete with the boss.”
“I’m not the boss,” I point out. “You are.”
Rowan’s eyes narrow, as if she’s trying to figure out if I’m being sarcastic or not.
“You can buy Xavier the next round,” I say. “I only came along to fill in for you while you picked up Jase. Figured you could use the extra time.”
Her face softens for a split second, then that damned stubborn chin of hers tips up. “Thank you,” she says tightly.
Rather than provoke her further, I nod and turn away, pretending to concentrate on the television screen behind the bar. Some sports team is playing, but I have no clue who it is. All because of that damn mirror behind the bar. I can’t stop watching Rowan strut around in her tight red dress. She’s confident as hell and not looking for anyone. It’s just how she walks—with a purpose and a sway to her hips that’s damn near hypnotizing.
As the night wears on, I nurse my beer while she laughs with the guys and throws back shot after shot.
I don’t have to worry about her because Boyd’s keeping an eye on her, too, and it’s the fatherly kind. The other guys, not so much, but they keep their ogling respectful.
Some Ken Doll strides up to her, his perfect hair gelled as he flashes his perfect smile.
“Sorry, buddy, but brace yourself—you’re about to have your ass handed to you,” I mutter.
Ken Doll keeps on smiling and holds out his hand. To my surprise, Rowan takes it and allows him to lead her out on the dance floor. The music is loud, the beat hard and fast, and the floor overcrowded.
Jealousy rears its ugly head, and I slowly turn around to face the dance floor, crossing my arms over my chest. Everything inside of me is demanding I snatch that gorgeous woman up, but I’ll bide my time.
Besides, she deserves to have a little fun. Tonight is one of celebration, and I’m not that big of an * to put a damper on things. So, Ken Doll will keep his nuts attached.
For now.
Ken Doll can’t dance worth shit, but Rowan moves like a harem girl from one of those old-fashioned movies that my battle buddy liked to watch in Afghanistan. She dips and turns, her hands gracefully rising in the air like the most seductive ballerina I’ve ever seen. She moves like she makes love.