My mouth snaps closed when I realize I’m yelling at my friend, and there’s no need because a hush has fallen over the bar patrons.
A group of men, led by a smiling Grinch, one of the Cerberus members, wink at me as they enter.
My cheeks flush, wondering just how much of our conversation was heard by others, since my last words had the ability to garner that entire group’s attention.
Studiously, I avoid looking directly at Ethan as they all walk toward the three tables in the far back corner. Locals don’t even sit in that area of the bar any longer.
“Oh my God,” Sylvie says as she clasps my side. “New guys.”
She sounds like a squealing teen, delighted at the prospect of new Cerberus members.
I count six new leather cuts as they pass by, the leather of them pristine.
“New woman,” I say, noticing the gorgeous blonde with the group.
It doesn’t take long for the grumbling to start. The men at the bar and several from nearby tables belly up to close out their tabs, knowing the women in the bar just lost complete focus in them with the arrival of such elite men.
I want to scoff, but I can’t seem to pull my own eyes from the gorgeous men pulling out chairs and settling in for the evening.
I’m not immune or blind. Cerberus men are hot. The new woman is hot. They’re known for being incredibly good looking.
Even Ethan Packwood is gorgeous. I’d be called a liar if I even tried to deny that fact. It doesn’t mean I want to get to know the man better, or that I’m impressed by his blatant flirting and incessant come-ons.
I turn toward my best friend, effectively putting my back to the new arrivals before flagging Drake down for a drink with a little more kick.
“Another Coke?” the man asks when he approaches.
“Jack and Coke,” I tell him.
Thankfully, Sylvie keeps her mouth closed, but I don’t miss the grin she tries to hide behind her own drink.
Drake raps his knuckles on the bar twice before walking away to make my drink.
“Don’t start,” I mutter after Drake returns with my drink and I down half of it before coming back up for air.
“I didn’t say a thing,” she says, her eyes over my shoulder.
I know she’s watching them. She has that predatory look in her eyes that she always gets when those guys are around. I don’t think she’s ever sealed the deal with any of them, but from what I’ve heard, Ethan and Grinch were the only single men left before the new arrivals. Apollo, a client I’ve been working with, recently got married. His new wife is pregnant and having trouble with the man she conceived with fighting for custody. Well, the man’s parents are fighting for custody. The nineteen-year-old has no aspirations of being a father, but that hasn’t stopped his parents from pulling his strings and controlling the situation. We’ll go to court for that hearing shortly after the paternity test that’ll be conducted after the baby is born.
“Four new single men,” Sylvie says with awe in her voice.
“Five new guys walked in,” I say, hating that I was paying close enough attention. I always got a weird feeling in my stomach when I observed women changing their behavior by straightening up and making sure half their breasts were on display when the Cerberus men walked through the doors at Jake’s. It’s as if they’re putting themselves on display, hoping to be picked for the night.
For. The. Night.
Because although many of the Cerberus men have fallen in love and settled down, not many of them are making lifelong commitments to the women they meet here. But these women don’t seem to deduce that fact.
I shake my head, trying to rid it of the negative thoughts. Grown women have every right to seek enjoyment from men willing to give it. It’s not something I’m interested in, and I hate having to remind myself that others can do as they please.
“One of them is wearing a wedding ring. Too bad. He’s smoking hot.”
“They’re all smoking hot,” I murmur, draining my glass of whiskey and Coke before holding it up to indicate to Drake that I’m going to need another one.
“Especially Legend.”
I ignore my friend because I know she’s only trying to get a reaction out of me.
“He’s looking fine as hell in those jeans,” she continues. “His legs muscles are massive, and I think you’re seriously missing out. He’s still interested in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I’ve caught him looking in our direction twice already,” she says, continuing like I didn’t speak.
“We’re at the bar. He’s probably wondering where their server is.”
“The waitress has already been over there and delivered their first round of pitchers.”
My eyes roll of their own volition. Of course Sylvie is paying enough attention to the group to know all these details, and it’s certain the longer I stay here, the more play-by-play I’m going to get on what they’re doing.