Holding Strong
Page 58
As they all surely wanted to do.
Then again, maybe Vanity intimidated the others. Wasn’t every day a guy saw a classy, confident, happy, spellbindingly gorgeous woman—who was still single.
Stack slid onto the stool beside her, gaining her notice. Probably thinking a stranger had joined her, she cast a quick glance his way, then realized it was him and turned back for a longer, more familiar look.
Big blue eyes started by locking with his before, with a slow smile, she dipped them down and over his dark T-shirt, his worn jeans, all the way down to his cowboy boots and back up again. Smiling as if amused, she lifted one slim brow. “Hello, Stack.”
“Vanity.”
Frowning, Leese leaned around her to see him. “Hey.”
“Wassup, Leese?” He nodded at him. “Got run over, I see.”
“Feels like,” Leese grumbled.
“You were in a tourney?”
He shook his head. “No.” Running his fingertips along a cut on his chin, he said, “Long story.”
They stared at each other, Stack willing him to take a hike, Leese refusing to budge.
Vanity grinned. “Wow, don’t I feel popular.”
Her teasing made Stack want to kiss her until neither one of them could breathe, but he held it in check. Trying to look serious, he said to Leese, “Mind if I borrow her a minute?”
Wearing a black scowl, Leese spun on the stool to face him. “Matter of fact—”
Vanity made a loud “ahem” sound before speaking to Stack. “That’s up to me, not him, and no, I don’t mind.” She turned back to Leese. “Thank you for the drink.”
Stack resisted the urge to whistle in sympathy. Talk about a dismissal...
Glowering, Leese lowered himself carefully off the stool, his limbs unbending and awkward, testament to some nasty body shots that must still hurt.
He took one step away, glanced beyond Stack to where Denver stood staring a hole in him, and huffed out a breath. “Now I see. Okay, then.” He managed to straighten. “It’s why I’m here, so I might as well get this over with.”
Hobbling in a broke-ass gait, he headed toward Denver.
That’d gone easier than Stack had expected.
After taking it all in, Vanity angled her body around to face his. “So you were the sacrificial lamb, huh?”
“Actually, I’m known as the wolf, not the lamb.”
“Your fight name, yes? Something about the way you stalk your opponents like prey in the cage.”
“That’s ri–”
“And in the bedroom you make the ladies howl.”
His mouth snapped shut. First time he’d heard that one. And damn, she looked serious—like she believed it.
He tugged at his ear. “Who told you that?”
“About the cage? Yvette and Rissy.”
He shook his head. “No, the part about the ladies.” About them howling. It was almost laughable.
Idly, Vanity traced one tapered finger over the polished bar top. “Apparently it’s common conversation for the ladies’ room.” Her lashes swept up and she met his gaze. “I’ve heard it twice now.”
“Here?”
By small degrees her mouth slipped into a smile. “Well, it wasn’t at Rissy’s or Yvette’s.”
He pulled back over that appalling thought. “Yeah, I haven’t ever—”
“Been intimate with them? I know.” She put her elbow on the edge of the bar and propped up her chin with a palm. “So let me see if I get this right. You were sent here to draw away my attention so those two, Denver and Leese, could get some private chat time in?”
“I volunteered,” Stack lied. Her drink was empty so he made the offer. “Can I get you another?”
She turned her head, sending that long fair hair cascading down to her thigh. “I can entertain myself, you know. No reason for you to give up your earlier pursuits.”
Still thinking about her hair, about how he’d like to wrap it around his hands and hold her steady for some hard sex play, he murmured absently, “How’s that?”
“The two hopefuls fawning over you earlier?” Feigning sympathy, she asked, “Did Denver’s storm-cloud impression chase off your prospects?”
“They were done deals, not prospects. But that’s over.” She’d noticed him with the other women? Wondering what that meant, if anything, Stack gave her a once-over. “What about you? Meeting someone tonight?”
Pretending a forlorn sigh, she pouted. “No. I’m all alone.”
Then again, maybe Vanity intimidated the others. Wasn’t every day a guy saw a classy, confident, happy, spellbindingly gorgeous woman—who was still single.
Stack slid onto the stool beside her, gaining her notice. Probably thinking a stranger had joined her, she cast a quick glance his way, then realized it was him and turned back for a longer, more familiar look.
Big blue eyes started by locking with his before, with a slow smile, she dipped them down and over his dark T-shirt, his worn jeans, all the way down to his cowboy boots and back up again. Smiling as if amused, she lifted one slim brow. “Hello, Stack.”
“Vanity.”
Frowning, Leese leaned around her to see him. “Hey.”
“Wassup, Leese?” He nodded at him. “Got run over, I see.”
“Feels like,” Leese grumbled.
“You were in a tourney?”
He shook his head. “No.” Running his fingertips along a cut on his chin, he said, “Long story.”
They stared at each other, Stack willing him to take a hike, Leese refusing to budge.
Vanity grinned. “Wow, don’t I feel popular.”
Her teasing made Stack want to kiss her until neither one of them could breathe, but he held it in check. Trying to look serious, he said to Leese, “Mind if I borrow her a minute?”
Wearing a black scowl, Leese spun on the stool to face him. “Matter of fact—”
Vanity made a loud “ahem” sound before speaking to Stack. “That’s up to me, not him, and no, I don’t mind.” She turned back to Leese. “Thank you for the drink.”
Stack resisted the urge to whistle in sympathy. Talk about a dismissal...
Glowering, Leese lowered himself carefully off the stool, his limbs unbending and awkward, testament to some nasty body shots that must still hurt.
He took one step away, glanced beyond Stack to where Denver stood staring a hole in him, and huffed out a breath. “Now I see. Okay, then.” He managed to straighten. “It’s why I’m here, so I might as well get this over with.”
Hobbling in a broke-ass gait, he headed toward Denver.
That’d gone easier than Stack had expected.
After taking it all in, Vanity angled her body around to face his. “So you were the sacrificial lamb, huh?”
“Actually, I’m known as the wolf, not the lamb.”
“Your fight name, yes? Something about the way you stalk your opponents like prey in the cage.”
“That’s ri–”
“And in the bedroom you make the ladies howl.”
His mouth snapped shut. First time he’d heard that one. And damn, she looked serious—like she believed it.
He tugged at his ear. “Who told you that?”
“About the cage? Yvette and Rissy.”
He shook his head. “No, the part about the ladies.” About them howling. It was almost laughable.
Idly, Vanity traced one tapered finger over the polished bar top. “Apparently it’s common conversation for the ladies’ room.” Her lashes swept up and she met his gaze. “I’ve heard it twice now.”
“Here?”
By small degrees her mouth slipped into a smile. “Well, it wasn’t at Rissy’s or Yvette’s.”
He pulled back over that appalling thought. “Yeah, I haven’t ever—”
“Been intimate with them? I know.” She put her elbow on the edge of the bar and propped up her chin with a palm. “So let me see if I get this right. You were sent here to draw away my attention so those two, Denver and Leese, could get some private chat time in?”
“I volunteered,” Stack lied. Her drink was empty so he made the offer. “Can I get you another?”
She turned her head, sending that long fair hair cascading down to her thigh. “I can entertain myself, you know. No reason for you to give up your earlier pursuits.”
Still thinking about her hair, about how he’d like to wrap it around his hands and hold her steady for some hard sex play, he murmured absently, “How’s that?”
“The two hopefuls fawning over you earlier?” Feigning sympathy, she asked, “Did Denver’s storm-cloud impression chase off your prospects?”
“They were done deals, not prospects. But that’s over.” She’d noticed him with the other women? Wondering what that meant, if anything, Stack gave her a once-over. “What about you? Meeting someone tonight?”
Pretending a forlorn sigh, she pouted. “No. I’m all alone.”
