That damn sexy smile of his, the one that had me regretting my decisions not to kiss his face off, stretched wider. “And?”
I chuffed. “And your brother told me all about the Michaels siblings growing up. No way I’m volunteering for that kind of trouble. You get two. Two boys or two girls. Or one of each. Take it or leave it.”
His face got dark, and his eyes heated.
Oh boy. I knew that look all too well. He was going to kiss me again. It wouldn’t be quick or gentle, and there would be no stopping it once his lips met mine. Usually, I did not mind. Truth be told, even in that moment, I did not mind.
But it was going to be a hell of a lot of fun trying to get away.
I dove for the door handle, but he caught my arm. I giggled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. For a big guy, he had no issues coming across the truck. His mouth collided with mine and his hand left my forearm only so he could thrust it into the back of my hair. His fist closed, sending a heady combination of pain and pleasure straight to my clit.
I didn’t put up a fight after that as he skillfully ravaged my mouth in the middle of a parking lot, not even the darkness cloaking our little make-out session.
I’m sure people walked past the truck, weaving through the parking lot on their way to dinner or drinks. Hell, it could have been a family with children, past clients of mine or his. Even my own father wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
Still, lost in a man who loved me—and not only wanted a future with me, but had been planning it since the day we’d met—I could not find it in myself to care who saw.
When he finally allowed me to come up for air, my lips were swollen and the scruff on his chin had left red marks on my face. But his voice was thick and rough as he replied, “I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.”
Funny, even though it terrified me, staring into his eyes, I kinda wanted to give him it all.
“What the hell?” Bowen rumbled as the hostess led us into the Mexican restaurant’s private banquet room. “I thought you said only two or three people showed up to these things.”
My confusion matched his as I estimated at least twenty people sitting at long tables covered with chips, salsa, and pitchers of margaritas. I wasn’t an aficionado on the survivors or anything, but there were a few faces I recognized.
The room suddenly quieted and all eyes turned our way. Bowen stiffened, and as if we were staring down a bear, he hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me against his side.
“Remi,” Katherine greeted as Tim rolled her over to us. Her arm was in a cast, a sling holding it against her chest, but her smile was bright. “And…Bowen.”
I had no idea why she sounded so surprised; I’d RSVPed for both of us earlier in the week.
“Who are all these people?” I whispered.
She peeked over her shoulder. “Great turnout, right? It seems I’m not the only one eager to meet this young man.”
Bowen’s hand spasmed on my hip.
Katherine extended her good arm toward Bowen. “Lovely to finally meet you face-to-face.”
Ever the gentleman, he took her hand in a quick shake, replying with a curt, “You too.”
Tim took the moment to pull me in for a hug. He kept his voice low as he said, “Thank you so much for doing this. You have no idea how excited she’s been. I haven’t seen her this happy in months.”
Okay, all of that was great. I liked the idea of Katherine being happy. She was a good woman who had been dealt a shit hand. But I had no idea what the hell he was talking about.
“Doing what?” I asked.
I didn’t have to wait long to get my answer.
“And here he is,” Katherine announced to the entire room. “Our man of the hour, Bowen Michaels.”
Oh shit.
His face paled as people started clapping. And not the quiet golf clap. I’m talking a loud, heartfelt standing ovation.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
The muscles on Bowen’s neck strained beneath the color of his navy-blue polo, and sweat broke out across his forehead.
And because all of that wasn’t bad enough, Katherine spoke above the applause. “Let’s keep that same energy going for Remi Grey, who finally managed to convince our hero to join us today.”
I didn’t even have to look at him to feel his accusatory gaze land on me. The heat—and not the good kind—blistered my skin.
“No, no, no,” I said, peering up at him. “I did not do this.” I looked at Katherine and repeated, “I did not do this.”
“Oh, don’t be so modest.” She looked back at the crowd still on their feet, but thankfully the clapping had died out. “Sean?” she called. “Do you want to bring the plaque and come up here to say a few words?”
A plaque?
Oh God.
A speech?
Oh. God.
The pieces suddenly clicked into place as I remembered Katherine telling me about how Bowen had saved the lives of Sean Meyers and his family after they had been trapped under debris in the crash. She’d even told me that he didn’t want any recognition for what he’d done that horrible day.
Yet there we were, ambushed into a hero’s celebration.
And whether I’d known about it or not, there was no denying that it was all my fault. I was the only reason Bowen had agreed to go to the so-called mixer at all.
I lifted my hands, ready to shut this whole shit show down, until I saw Bowen turn on a toe and storm out of the room.
Fuck.
“Wait! Where’s he going?” Katherine asked, genuinely confused.
Unfortunately for her, I was just as genuinely pissed. “Home. Maybe next time you plan a party to honor someone, you should consider whether it’s an honor for them or not. He lost his fiancée in that plane crash. Did you ever think that maybe he doesn’t want to stand here and celebrate all the people he saved?”
Her mouth fell open. “What? He lost someone? Who? What was her name?”
I gritted my teeth. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does,” she stated, guilt written all over her face. “Remi, you have to believe me. I had no idea. He was sitting next to you and Scott Kirk on the flight. I didn’t even realize he knew anyone else on that plane.”
I scoffed. “He wasn’t sitting next to me. I was with Aaron.”
“That’s what the flight log says, but I watched you spill a Bloody Mary myself.”
I shook my head. I didn’t drink Bloody Marys at all, much less on a six a.m. flight. It must have been Sally she’d seen. I wasn’t positive of what she looked like, but it wasn’t impossible Bowen had a type. Whatever. None of that mattered at the moment.
“You gotta stop with this,” I told her. “This wasn’t fair. You should have asked, Katherine. I would have told you this was a bad idea from the start.”
“Remi, I’m…sorry.” Her voice broke and tears welled in her eyes.
For a second, I felt bad for her. She’d meant well enough, but her obsession with this flight had seriously clouded her judgment on this one. I didn’t have time to stand there and coddle her. Bowen was somewhere, ten times more pissed off and hurt than I could imagine.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I said, hurrying from the restaurant.