Her eyes flared. "You didn't just do that."

"Did." He braced an arm on the bar and leaned into her. "Stay away from Leese."

This time when she tilted her head, her hair drifted over his wrist. "Giving me an order?"

"Call it a concerned suggestion."

"I'll think about it," she said, and her gaze was on his mouth, making it harder for him to breathe. Just...making it harder all around.

He needed to put some space, emotional and mental if not physical, between them pronto. "Mostly I don't take dates to weddings because it's a good place to score."

"Really?" Looking intrigued instead of insulted, she said, "Tell me."

"What?"

Her eyebrows wiggled. "Details. You pick up women at weddings...one at a time?"

Shit. "One at a time."

"Okay, you pick them up and take them to your place? Isn't that dicey? I mean, not that they might molest you." Her soft, husky laugh did crazy things to him. "That's the point, right? But how do you get rid of them afterward?"

Another glance at Denver showed no end in sight. He and Leese were now seated at a table. Double damn. Vanity waited, her gaze searching his, occasionally dropping over his body, so he had to answer. "I don't bring chicks to my place."

"Chicks," she said with a smile that mocked him. "So where do you take these chicks?"

And now she was making fun of him. He leaned in, annoyed enough to be blatant. "In a closet or the men's room usually."

"Eww. Really?" She reached past him, her breasts brushing his biceps, and retrieved her glass. "I mean, a closet...maybe. But the bathroom? Foul."

"The walls are usually clean enough."

"So." She swirled the ice. "I take it these are quickies, yes? I mean, surely there can't be much foreplay in a public bathroom. It's a disappointing image, I guess because I had this vision in my... Never mind."

Oh, hell no. "What?"

She looked him over. "All that wolf and howling gossip." She lifted a bare shoulder that made her breasts move softly. "Guess I never envisioned you as a minute man."

Stack locked his teeth. "I'm not."

"You just said you are."

"That is," he growled, overly enunciating, "I only am when it's the right way to be."

"Always choosing the best path? I see. So there are times when some speedy action in a bathroom is the proper course?"

He leaned closer still, his gaze holding hers. "When the woman is so hot for it she's begging, yeah, a few minutes is long enough to get her off."

Someone bumped his arm and he turned to see both Denver and Leese standing there. Denver looked startled, Leese disgusted.

Well, hell.

Vanity said, "Hello, boys. All done with your chitchat?"

Denver's gaze bounced back and forth between them before settling on Stack. "I hate to interrupt, but-"

"Yeah, give me a minute."

"He's the minute man, you know," Vanity said sotto voce.

"That's enough from you."

She tried to look innocent, but another twitching smile ruined it.

Stack turned his frown on Leese. He wasn't about to budge until that dude was long gone.

Denver said, "I'll grab us a table."

"If his lady friends come over," Vanity called after him, "tell them he'll be right there."

Bemused, Denver looked back and forth between them again. "Sure."

And he took off, the coward.

Leese stuck around, and it annoyed Stack enough that he said, "What?"

"He's surly," Vanity explained with a gentle pat to Leese's forearm. "Something about quickies in a closet."

Not amused, Leese said, "I'll see you around?"

"I'm sure you will." And then softer, with concern, "Are you okay to drive?"

That caused old Leese to straighten. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." And he walked out stiff-legged while trying to hide his discomfort. Pride, Stack knew, could be a bitch.

"That poor man," Vanity said.

Though Stack almost thought the same thing, he didn't like hearing it from her. He also knew it was the very last thing Leese-or any fighter-would want her thinking. "Jesus." He stood. "You want a date for the wedding?"

"Well, I did," she clarified. And before he could say more, she added, "I already assumed you didn't want any one woman getting clingy. I also don't want any man getting clingy." She wrinkled her nose. "I'm well-to-do. Don't know if you knew that."

As in wealthy?

"Anyhow," she went on as if she hadn't just said something so startling. "It gives guys ideas."

Stack laughed. Seriously? How much money could a midtwenties California surfer-chick have? "I don't know anything about your finances-"

"I could live comfortably without ever again working." Her bare shoulder lifted again. "But sometimes I get bored."

That was a mouthful. He knew she worked part-time for Yvette at the resale shop, so he'd just assumed...

Shaking that off, Stack said, "Doesn't matter if you're a millionaire. Listen, any guy that gets ideas about you, gets them from this." He waved a hand, indicating her face, down to her painted toenails and back up to that sinfully long, pale hair.

"But you've never had ideas?"

He laughed. "I'm breathing, right?"

Her eyes smiled even if her mouth didn't. "So will you be my date to the wedding?" She held out a hand to strike a deal. "No strings attached."

Still stung over how she'd harassed him, Stack hesitated. "I don't know. It'll mean I have to give up getting laid-"

"Not necessarily."

Wait, fast rewind. Trying to look merely curious, he said, "What's that?"

"I mean, I won't do anything in the bathroom." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "And honestly, a closet isn't sounding all that appealing, either. I prefer a bed. And nakedness." Her attention dipped over him. "Overhead lighting wouldn't hurt."

His brain refused to function so he just stood there staring at her-visualizing every damn thing she'd just said, which included her naked in a bed under lots of light so he wouldn't miss a single sizzling thing.

She kept talking, that slim hand extended, waiting for his agreement. "But I'm open to using my place-bed and light provided."

The visual turned hot and vivid.

"That way you won't have to worry about getting rid of me afterward. I promise to toss you out before you can even get nervous about it."

Too stunned to think clearly, Stack said, "I don't get nervous."

"And just think," she continued, "once you agree, then if any other men, like Leese for instance, ask me, I can say I already have a date."

Blackmail. Very effective blackmail. "It's months away."

She nodded. "You're free and clear in the meantime to carry on however you please. We can tell people we're friend dates, if you want. Like I said, no strings attached."

With his temples-and his dick-throbbing, he ran a hand through his hair.

Finally dropping her hand, she went on tiptoe to smooth the hair he'd just rumpled. "Relax, Stack. You have yourself all mussed and I really didn't mean to rattle you so badly."

His back teeth locked. "I don't get rattled and I don't get nervous." She made him sound like a schoolboy.

"I take it your lack of an answer is the answer?" She gave him an indulgent smile and patted his arm. "Don't worry. I understand. But I need to go see if I can catch up with Leese, maybe make him the same offer-"

Stack caught her elbow, and even that sent sensation from his palm straight to his already alert gonads. "Not rattled," he clarified again. "But yeah, you surprised me."

"Good thing we weren't in the cage, huh?"

He smirked. "I've yet to have another fighter make the same offer you just did." A deep breath helped him to feel his legs again. "So yeah, not a bad deal." Fuck him, that sounded lame.

"Sex with me is not a bad deal? Why, Stack, I'm completely charmed."

He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "That's not what I meant."

"Such a relief."

"Sex with you-" He mentally cast around, but couldn't come up with the right words.

She stepped closer. "Yes?"

Not kissing her was tough, but hey, he was tough so he could handle it. Maybe. "How the hell am I supposed to think about anything else between now and the wedding?"

Her slow smile this time was genuine and sweet. "Aw, now I am charmed. Thank you."

"So we have a deal?"

"Ironclad." She patted his chest, lingered as she had on his back, then scooped up her purse in a rush. "I'll see you around."

That's it? See you around? "You're okay to drive?"

"Since the first drink was cola, and you only let me drink half of the second, yes, I'm fine." She waggled her fingers at him in farewell and left with that shapely ass drawing attention from every red-blooded male in the joint.

But she wanted him to take her to the wedding.

She'd offered him sex.

He'd either just made the best deal of his life, or tied his own noose.

DENVER DIDN'T GET to the house until damn near nine o'clock. After sharing with Stack this new turn of events, he needed to see Cherry. To his surprise, he found her and Yvette sitting on the front porch talking to two of his fighter buddies, Miles and Brand, beneath a yellow porch light. As he opened his door and got out, he heard Cherry's laugh. It carried on the night, curled inside him. Turned him on.

Nudged his possessiveness.

Which was dumb because any idiot could see they were just sitting around chatting. Being that they were part of the group, backup whenever Cannon needed it, he assumed Miles and Brand were there to keep a watchful eye out. Better the porch than cozy on the couch.

He trusted them, all of them.

Heading up the walkway, his small overnight case in hand, he saw Brand lean in and say something low to Cherry. While watching Denver she listened to Brand, and her smile made his jeans feel too tight. When she burst out laughing again, it did insane things to him, even when a spate of coughing followed the laugh.

Brand patted her on her back. Miles fanned her face.

She'd regained her breath before he reached her, leaving him free to catch the back of her neck and take her mouth in a kiss that no one would misunderstand.

When he finally lifted away, she said, "Denver," in a breathy, surprised reprimand.

Brand, sitting closest to her, said, "If he pisses on you, don't be surprised."

"Marking his territory," Miles agreed.

Rissy laughed. "You guys are so gross."

Both men stood, stretched.