Brick leaned down to give her a bear hug. “You should’ve been a party planner, Sierra. Everything is perfect.”
She turned and smiled at Kane. He hung back, giving her the spotlight, but she motioned him forward. “I had some amazing help from your best man.”
He reached her side and greeted both Aspen and Brick. “Congratulations. You look stunning.”
Brick preened, smoothing out the lines of his fancy paisley cuffed shirt that Kane had bought him. Sierra admitted he looked even more handsome with the polished outfit. She’d rarely seen him outside of shorts and a t-shirt.
But her sister wowed in a little black dress with lace and a plunging neckline. A gold cuff bracelet, chandelier earrings and a lariat necklace from Flirt elevated the style. Aspen had tried to stuff her feet into Sierra’s black Louboutin’s but after hobbling for five minutes, her sister gave up. Fortunately, Sierra surprised her with some classic Miu Miu slingbacks she’d discovered on sale, and they looked divine.
Aspen beamed. “Thank you. Seems you survived co-planning with my sister and lived to tell about it.” Her eyes danced. “If Sierra is impressed, I can’t imagine how much effort you put in. You’re a good friend, Kane.”
Unbelievably, red flushed Kane’s cheeks. Brick must’ve seen it too but he just slapped him on the shoulder, eyes shining a bit bright. “Thanks for doing this. Means a lot.”
Kane cleared his throat. “No problem. I’ll grab you a drink so you can start mingling.” He walked toward the bar and disappeared into the crowd.
Aspen grabbed her hand and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Did he just blush or am I hallucinating? Oh, my God, he’s got it bad for you!”
“Stop! It’s your engagement party which means the subject all night is you. Not me.” With a gentle push, Aspen moved forward into the throng all excited to talk to the couple. “Have fun.”
Brick guided his fiancée with a hand to her lower back, and soon they both got swallowed up in celebration.
Sierra grabbed the signature champagne cocktail called The Romantic, and sipped the light pink bubbly as she wandered and made sure it was all running smoothly. She chatted with various groups, hanging for a while with Inez and Brooklyn, then went to check to make sure more oysters were brought out. She was about to enter the kitchen when someone grabbed her from behind and elegantly spun her around.
Kane gave that heart-stopping mischievous grin. “You are not allowed to go in the kitchen. They have it under control, sweetheart.”
She gave a huff. “They ran out of oysters so I was just—” she trailed off as another server popped out holding a new tray. Sierra bit her lip. “Oh. Well, I wanted to make sure they knew.”
He took her hand and gently tugged. “You worked your ass off and now it’s time to enjoy. Did you try the Cynic drink? The hint of sour mix is brilliant. Reminds me of Brick’s grumpiness.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Remember I didn’t approve that drink. It was all you.”
“And I’m proud of my brilliance in creating it.” His gaze slowly morphed into a heated stare. “Have I told you how sexy you look? How I keep making excuses to put my hands on you?” He lowered his voice to a growl. “You wore those shoes for me, didn’t you?”
Sierra tilted her chin up in challenge. She loved bantering with this man, who seemed to combine the perfect allotment of humor, wit, and sexual innuendo to keep her sharp. “I hate to break you of illusions, but women wear shoes for other women. Men rarely notice.”
“I do.” Those green eyes roved over her figure with masculine appreciation. “Red is bold. Unapologetic. A bit rebellious.”
Sierra had chosen a simple wrap dress in lipstick red. The sexy slippery material was usually too flimsy for her curves, but she’d wriggled into the perfect undergarments to pull it off with support. Manolo Blahnik stilettos matched the dress in pure classic lines with a square buckle of sequins glittering in dramatic fashion.
And yes. She’d worn the shoes for him.
“I wore them because they matched my dress. You’re overthinking.”
Most men would back down. Not Kane. “No. You knew exactly what you were doing.” His lower lip quirked. “Those shoes promise me something.”
She took a step forward so they were inches apart. The crowd and lights and music faded away to a dull roar under the sting of his gaze and the spicy scent of his cologne. The crisp black shirt and perfectly tailored pants screamed confident masculinity. A wayward curl fell over his high forehead. She ached to brush it back, press her lips to his, and lean against all those hard muscles.
“What do they promise, Kane?” she drawled, lowering her lids to half-mast.
He sucked in a breath. Coils of sensual tension slithered around them, pulling tight. “What I’ve been wanting since the moment I saw you. They promise I get to fuck you tonight. In all the ways I dreamed of for four long years.”
Every smart-ass retort died on her lips as her voice disappeared. She swayed on her stilettos, but he caught her, gently squeezing her arms. The crude declaration should have made her stalk away but he’d out-gamed her.
Because she wanted the same exact thing.
His smile widened with pure satisfaction. “Cat got your tongue?”
Somehow, she rallied. “Nope. I simply have nothing to say to such an outrageous statement.”
