She swallows. “I need to go back in.”
“Why? Dancing? You want to go dancing? I’ll take you dancing. Be sure to wear that amazing dress.”
“I told you, it’s not—”
“Your dress,” I finish for her. “It should be. It was made for you.”
As if in response to my voice, her nipples tighten and protrude out against the black fabric. In response, something of mine protrudes as well.
“What are you doing here anyway?” I ask.
“Addie gave me the tickets.”
“Of course,” I say. “Addie. I should have seen her fingerprints all over this.”
“So what? I got the tickets, and I wanted to go out with my friend.”
“Like I said, I’ll take you dancing.”
“I don’t want to go dancing,” she says.
“What do you want, then?”
Please say you want to go back to my place. Please.
“I want to go back inside. My friend will be worried.”
“If I take you back inside, the men will be all over you.”
“Braden, one guy was paying attention to me. One. And you scared him off.”
“He’s not good enough for you.” She doesn’t even know the half of it.
“You don’t even know him.”
She’s wrong there. “Neither do you.”
“Of course I do. He’s an architect.”
“You’re wrong, Skye. I do know him. That’s Peter Reardon, and his father is Beau Reardon of Reardon Brothers Architecture. His friend is Garrett Ramirez, also an architect with the company. Beau is trying to get the contract on my new building.”
She wrenches her arm out of my grasp. “What are you saying? That the two of them are paying attention to us because of you?”
“I’m not saying that at all.”
“Sounds like it from where I’m standing.”
“Not at all. They didn’t know you were with me before—but now they do. They’re playboys. I guarantee you they both have two things on their minds tonight. That contract—which probably means a huge bonus from Daddy—and getting laid. I’ll let you guess which one is foremost in their minds on a Saturday night.”
“Interesting. What do you have on your mind tonight, Braden?”
I can’t help a slight smile. “Not a contract.”
Damn, no lie there. All I can think about is getting Skye back in bed. Yeah, I’m acting like a territorial ass, when I know damned well she’s not mine. Not yet, anyway.
I should apologize. I even open my mouth to do so, but before I can—
“I’m going back in,” she says.
“Fine. I’m going with you.”
“Suit yourself.”
I follow her back to the ballroom. She struts in and heads for a table.
The gorgeous brunette in the red dress runs toward her, nearly knocking over a server and her tray full of drinks. “Skye, are you all right? Peter said—” Her eyes morph to circles when she sees me behind Skye. “It is you.”
She clears her throat. “I’m fine.”
Bestie regains her composure and lifts her lips in a dazzling smile. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
I hold out my hand. “Braden Black.”
“Braden, this is Tessa Logan, my best friend.”
“It’s an honor, Mr. Black.” Tessa flutters her ridiculously long eyelashes as she shakes my hand. She’s a flirt. I’m used to it. She is a bombshell, but not what I’m after at the moment.
“Call me Braden. Any friend of Skye’s.” I turn to her. “Drink?”
“I’ve had enough, thanks.”
“You?” I nod to Tessa.
“I’d love another banana daiquiri,” she says coyly.
“Done. I’ll be back.” I head to the bar.
“Two Wild Turkeys, one ice cube, and a banana daiquiri,” I say to the young woman tending bar.
She drops her jaw. “You’re Braden Black.”
“Guilty.”
“Wow. Sure. Give me just a minute.” She fumbles with the stainless steel shaker for the daiquiri.
Lila Marquez pushes her way toward me. “Braden!” she gasps out. “A table opened up for you.”
“Lila, I don’t need—”
“Oh, I insist. It’s right up front.”
“A table right up front opened up?”
“Yes. Isn’t that lucky?”
Lucky, indeed. More likely one of the bigger donors just went home. It’s nearing eleven.
“I’ll be with you in a minute, Lila,” I say. “Just getting drinks.”
“I’ve put your name on the table,” she says. “You can’t miss it. Enjoy the rest of the evening!”
“I will. Thank you.”
The bartender finishes the drinks, and I pick them up and push through the crowd, not spilling a damned drop, thank you very much, as I reach Skye’s table.
“One banana daiquiri.” I hand the canary-yellow drink to Tessa.
“Thanks so much.” A grin splits her face.
“I took the liberty of getting you Wild Turkey in case you changed your mind.” I hand Skye a glass.
“I didn’t.”
“Great. Then two for me. Follow me. I’ve got a much better table.”
“I’m sure being Braden Black has its perks,” she says dryly, a lock of hair falling over her forehead and into her eyes.
I lower my head and softly blow her hair out of the way. “Being with Braden Black also has its perks.”
Chapter Seventeen
Tessa takes a long sip of her banana daiquiri and then heads back to the dance floor.
Nice. Now I can talk to Skye alone. I take a drink and then slide my tongue across my bottom lip. The bourbon warms my mouth and throat.
“Did you notice how Peter Reardon made a quick getaway when I showed up?”
Skye grits her jaw. “Yeah. I’d have to be blind to have missed it.”
“You said I thought he was hanging around you because of me,” I say, “but that’s not what I thought, and that’s not why.”