I spare the man another glance and find him still staring at me in that earnest way. Ah hell, what’s the harm in entertaininga quick conversation while I wait? Maybe it’s the distraction I need.
And then he says, “Come on, baby, give us a smile.”
I let my eyes slide shut for a moment, because of fuckingcourse. Of course some man is telling me to smile, because what else are they supposed to do? Inquire into what has a woman upset? Listen attentively and nod in understanding? Actuallycare?
You mean all the things Thomas did when you met?
I swallow back what I really want to say to this man, things Mika would applaud me for but that might get me thrown off the resort property. The bartender thankfully chooses that moment to come over, and I order two double bourbons. One of them might be for Thomas if it doesn’t end up in this guy’s face first.
“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing as if he knows the line was bad but not caring. “I just can’t stand to see a gorgeous woman upset.”
“Literally never said I was upset,” I deadpan, back to staring straight ahead.
Andthenhe has the nerve to put his hand on my shoulder, smoothing his palm down my arm. “I could just tell. You want me to cheer you up?”
The bartender sets the drinks down in front of me. Sorry to Thomas, but he’s not getting this whiskey and I might be getting a one-way trip to a Maldivian jail cell.
I curl my fingers around the glass, ready to lift it.
“I’d advise taking your hand off my wife.”
My head snaps up to find Thomas standing beside me. He’s intimidatingly calm, giving off the kind of energy that has me setting the glass down in surprise. Even the man hitting on medraws his hand back with a quickness, blinking at Thomas like he’s shocked to find him there. I know I am.
“Sorry, man,” the asshole says, taking a step back. “I didn’t know she was spoken for.”
I lift my left hand to give him the finger—and to show off my ring glinting under the fairy lights. Before I can speak, though, Thomas inserts himself between me and the man, preventing me from throwing the punch I was considering. Still, the idea of my diamond causing some damage sends a thrill through me.
Thomas says something to the man that I don’t quite catch, but it has Mr. Give Us a Smile nodding rapidly and stumbling away.
I scowl at Thomas’s back. “I was handling it myself.”
“I know you were.” He turns around, taking up the spot the man just vacated, but this is a much better view. “I was saving him from the medical bills you were about to inflict.” He nods to the rocks glass. “That for me?”
I nudge the bourbon in his direction, a reluctant peace offering. As he sips, I watch him from the corner of my eye, curious about something.
“Why did you come over?” I ask, then jokingly tack on, “Were you jealous seeing me with another man?”
“Of course I was.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it. “You’re my wife.”
I grab my drink, my reaction to the first half of his sentence tempered by the second. “That doesn’t actually mean anything,” I mumble into my glass. “This is fake.”
Thomas doesn’t say anything as I take a swig of whiskey, forcing myself not to wince as it burns its way down. When I look back at him, he’s staring out at the dance floor.
“You know, I’ve never understood it,” he says.
I squint at him as he sets his drink back down. “Understood what?”
“Men who are assholes to women and then expect them to fall to their knees with lust. It’s bullshit.”
It’s always thrilling to hear Thomas swear, like my English gentleman has taken a little break. Still, I don’t quite understand the shift in conversation, but I shrug anyway. “Some women like a bad boy.”
“There’s a difference between being a bad boy and a complete fucking knobhead.”
Not the word I’d use, but I guess the sentiment stands.
“Now, this?”
I almost jump when his hand lands on my thigh, but I freeze when his touch slips under the hem of my dress.
