"Colton," I add, waiting for it to click.
"As in Colton Fashion industries?" Vickie asks, stars in her eyes as she swoons.
I usually don't name drop. In fact, I hate it when people do that. But this one time I'll make an exception. When we leave, everyone will be talking about Raya for a new set of reasons.
"Paul Colton is my father," I say, shamelessly smirking.
As my arm wraps around Raya's waist, I kiss her forehead.
"We should go, babe." For good measure, I give Raya a soft kiss on the lips, forcing myself to keep it chaste. "I've got pie, and I'm desperate to eat it. I've also got the perfect wine to go with it."
Her response is delayed, but she finally answers.
"Yeah. Um... I guess I'll see you guys later."
I guide her to the Range Rover, relishing the smile I've put on her face. The thought of pushing her against the side of the SUV and making a show comes to mind.
Groaning inwardly, I help her into the passenger side and make my way around. After cranking the car, I look over to see she's still staring at me.
"They're still watching," I say, promising that they're completely shocked and floored.
But then I see it. The look I've been desperate for—a hunger so fierce that I can't wait to be swallowed up. When her gaze falls to my lips, staring at them like she has to have more, I decide this is the moment I've been waiting for. But some wild, chick song starts blaring, stealing my perfect fucking moment. What the hell is that?
Though I'd like to punch my steering wheel, the song has me laughing. I never pictured her listening to something like that, and usually her phone is on vibrate.
"Hello," she says, sounding annoyed.
Her eyes flick to me, and she shakes her head while continuing, "He's not... no. I don't trust you."
I tilt my head, curious as to who she's speaking to and why she's looking at me. Then she lets out a snort of derision, further piquing my interest.
"Fine. Play nice," she says, handing me the phone, and I can't help but chuckle, confused by the whole chain of events.
I barely get my ear to the phone when I hear Josh talking.
"Come on back and get yourself ready to hang out with the boys. My friends and I are going skeet shooting. Just tell her you're going with me, though."
"Sure," I say, not really wanting to leave Raya, but I have no intentions of pissing off Josh. Considering I've seen how scared he is of Raya—which dumbfounds me—I'm starting to think he's all talk. "We'll be back in about five minutes or less. I'd like to eat some pie first."
I grin when I get off the phone, and her smile mimics mine as she moves in a little closer. By the end of the weekend, Raya Capperton will officially be mine, and this game will be over.
Had I realized going skeet shooting with four Marines would be so scary, I would have probably turned into a bitch and told everyone I wanted to stay with Raya. Since I'm stuck out here, sweating my balls off despite the cold air, I try to act like a man.
More than once one of Josh's fr
iends has shot too close to me. I'm pretty sure they wouldn’t actually shoot me, but it's starting to screw with my head. Since they don't give me a gun very often, I'm a little unnerved with the balance of things. I'm losing more badass points by the minute, but I refuse to let them see they're getting to me.
Dirt flies up beside my leg, and I swallow hard, somehow managing not to flinch.
"Sorry," Bud—Josh's friend—lies. "Gun went off too soon."
I would believe that, if it wasn't the fifth time.
"You should probably have that seen about. Having so many premature climaxes could be problematic," I retort, instantly regretting my quick wit when the man holding the gun glares at me.
I should have a gun, too, if I'm going to say something that bold. Marine. A fucking Marine. I really need to learn to shut up. If not for the guns, I would stand a chance. The guns change things immensely.
"What'd you say, rich boy?" he growls.