Stratton’s smile grew as he let out a deep, loud chuckle, running a hand down his face as if both frustrated and extremely amused. My cheeks flamed as I stood up, planning to leave, before he caught my wrist and tugged me back down onto his lap. My eyes widened, becauseholy molyhe was hard. But I was still embarrassed. I had clearly said something he found funny, but since none of it was amusing to me, I felt more awful than before.
This had been a terrible idea.
“Dahlia, angel.” His voice was lower and more serious as he tilted my chin, my gaze drawn to his lips that were no longer pressed into a smile.
“Yeah?” I mumbled.
“I can promise you that no one was doinganythingto me last night. I was hanging out with my buddy, having a beer. That’s it. With everything going on, I don’t have time to date. Plus, as you can tell, there is only one girl I’m into, and it’s not some chick at the fight ring.”
Was it weird that I wanted to be the one to do anything to him… nope, not doing that horse and pony show today. Wait, what had he just said? My eyes snapped to his as he offered me an arched brow, daring me to deny the very obvious proof right underneath me. At least I wasn’t alone with my attraction. I had no idea what to do with it, though.
I inhaled shakily. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, I just had to know—”
“I get it,” Stratton voiced seriously, his fingers running along my jaw as he scowled at the bruising there. What came out of his mouth, though, was something different. “What’s this I heard about you dating Dermot?”
I let out a small laugh and shook my head. “He told Abby that because she was being a witch.”
He nodded in amusement, his scowl disappearing before reappearing as his gaze moved down my legs. “You’re wearing that skirt tonight?”
Huh? I stood up, adjusting it before looking over the white material and cute little yellow halter top I’d chosen to wear. “Does it look cute?” I flashed a smile at his scowl. “You have to answer yes, though.”
“You look hot as fuck, angel face. Not cute,” Stratton drew out as my eyes widened.
“You can’t say stuff like that.” I tried to cover my smile by hitting his shoulder. “Imagine what your MeMaw would think.”
Ms. Lori, his grandma, who insisted everyone call her ‘MeMaw,’ would probably be scandalized. Or find it hilarious, one of those two.
I honestly had no idea what to do with this side of Stratton, but I was loving it. Like, a ton. Stratton mumbled something, running a hand over his face, before pinning me with a hot look. “The guys are going with you to the club, right?”
“You should come,” I sang while boldly running my fingers through his hair.
“I’d love to.”
His dry, sarcastic comment had my mouth popping open, a laugh escaping before I shook my head. What the heck was up with him today? I loved it. He should keep it up. His hand wrapped around my wrist as he kissed the top of it. “Sorry, angel face, I’ll keep my dirty thoughts to myself.”
“Well, I didn’t say that,” I teased, feeling a bit shy. I think I was flirting, and I was almost positive I was being successful at it.
He barked out another laugh before the sound of a familiar car pulling up had him looking over the top of my head. I kept my gaze on him. “You’re positive you don’t want to come with?”
“I can’t,” he admitted, his eyes filled with disappointment.
“I can stay and keep you and your grandma company?” I offered. As much as I loved this party, I could also totally get behind a cozy couch night.
His eyes warmed with something soft, but he urged me towards the stairs. “Go have fun, Dahlia. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“You sure?” Kingston asked from his rolled down window, his gaze filled with curiosity.
“I’m good,” Stratton called back. “But get her a sweater or some goddamn pants.”
I rolled my eyes, scowling at his hot, muscular back as he went inside.Overprotective weirdo.I hopped into the SUV as Lincoln let me squeeze between him and his twin, and Dermot tugged on my hair lightly from the back as I flashed him a smile. Usually King liked to drive his car, so it was surprising he had chosen this one, not that I would ever complain about riding in the Cadillac.It was one of my favorites.
Yates turned from the passenger seat and frowned.
“Has that skirt always been that short?” he demanded speculatively.
“Yep.” I popped the ‘p’ and then offered a smirk. “Haven helped me pick it out.”
“Kingston, this isyourfault,” Yates growled before turning back towards the front. Oh thank god, he was back to his normal self. I wouldn’t want him to get too sweet or anything.
That was dangerous territory.