Will dragged Grant aside and gripped his shoulders, as though he was still a kid and a head shorter. His brother smelled like a combination of whiskey, vodka, and Juliet’s brand of fabric softener. “I know you wanted this to be a big blowout, but I’m not going anywhere,” Will said, as though reading his thoughts. “Nothing much is going to change. I added a few people to our family, but that doesn’t change things between you and me.”
That wasn’t true, but it was probably how Will saw things. It was hard to see the people left behind when you were the one moving on. Well, he appreciated the sentiment, even if Will was wrong.
His brother hugged him and, uncharacteristically, didn’t even try to get him in a headlock.
“You’re so drunk,” Grant accused.
“I may be drunk, but it’s just making me more honest.”
“I called him a cab,” Tarka said. “He was whining about needing to get home. As for me, I have to go sleep and sober up before my flight tomorrow night.”
“And I need to get home to my wife. It’s amazing how eager a man is to get home to bed when his sweet little wife is there waiting for him,” Konstantin bragged, smiling like a lovestruck teenager.
Tak and Arabella both gagged theatrically.
They shot the shit and joked around until their rides came, and then they were gone, leaving Grant and Arabella alone on the street.
He wondered if she’d been planning on this situation the way he had, or if the lamb found herself unexpectedly staring at the wolf.
Chapter Three
The hungry look on Grant’s face was marginally terrifying, but she was a big girl and she knew this man. No matter how nefarious his thoughts might be, she was perfectly safe until she agreed to anything evil he might have in mind.
Oh, and she was in the mood to agree.
Too bad neither of them was sober.
“We managed not to rip each other’s throats out for a whole evening,” she pointed out. “I call that a win.”
“I wasn’t about to ruin Will’s night.”
She smiled at him hesitantly, not sure which Grant she was talking to. Sometimes they were buddies again, but other times they wanted to kill each other. It didn’t take much to set him off, and she was feeling emotional about everything tonight.
Will’s upcoming wedding was making her nostalgic, but also a bit sad. It was the end of an era—the final nail in their friendship’s coffin. Sleeping with Grant had been the other one. She didn’t begrudge Will the happiness he’d found with Juliet—she was just feeling left behind, even though she still saw the brothers a few times a week. It wasn’t the same as it used to be. Obviously, it couldn’t be, but the brothers had left an Ellis-sized void in her life.
Between work and the club she was busy enough, but it wasn’t quite the same as having people she was close to, that she hung out with all the time. She was surrounded by people all day, every day, until she got home. Although the brothers had never lived with her, they’d spent so much time together for the past few years they might as well have been roomies.
“That was a lot different than I anticipated,” she admitted. “I’m not sure how bachelor parties usually go though. I’ve only ever seen them in movies, and they usually involve strippers, alcohol poisoning, and temporary amnesia.”
“The amnesia is strictly optional. I’ve only been to one where there were strippers. It’s amazing how strippers lose their appeal when you run a club like ours. We see all sorts of half-naked women in our line of work, and you don’t have to pay them to be interested. Besides, it’s hard to be interested in sex workers when you used to be one.”
They started to walk in the direction of the club. It felt like Grant was being careful not to look at her. Frustrated, she looped her arm through his, hoping to revive the feeling of closeness they used to share. Back in the day, casually touching him would have been no big deal, and had been common, but now even taking his arm felt like trespassing. It wasn’t fair.
“Well, at least we got the drunk part right. I haven’t seen him drink anything in ages.”
Grant grimaced. “The evening was okay, but it was hardly a bachelor party. I mean, maybe it would have been a decent bachelor party if Will was an octogenarian. I’ll have to remember not to start a party planner business.”
She nudged his arm with her shoulder. “It was perfect for what Will’s life is like now. He’s not the kind of guy who ever liked wild parties anyway—and that was even before Beau came along. I’m sure it’s hard to cut loose when you know people are depending on you.”
“Yeah, that’s always been Will’s life, I guess. I just feel like I should have made some sort of grand gesture, like we should have organized a trip to a resort or something.”
“And have to spend the whole time hiding who we are? Going on vacations like that always makes me uncomfortable,” she said, hopping over a puddle then reclaiming his elbow. “Hanging out in vanilla spaces where you have to watch what you say and what you do isn’t fun or relaxing.” She sighed. “I live so much of my life out. I can’t imagine looking forward to a vacation where I actually have to be more guarded than I am in my real life.”
Grant grinned down at her. Even with his head tilted downward she would have to stand on her toes to kiss him—not that she should be thinking about kissing him, even though his lips looked like they were in dire need of at least one. His square jaw was covered in a couple of days’ worth of stubble, which she always liked. It was even better when he let his beard grow. Although it hid his handsome face, his beard was such a lovely shade of red. Facial hair always made him look less civilized, too, which she had to admit she approved of.
The night was cool and silent other than the rumble of distant traffic on the main road and the occasional passing car. The sky hung heavy above them, clouds pressing down so close that tendrils of fog skittered along the sidewalk and sometimes curled like tentacles around their feet. The air was thick and electric, but the shiver she couldn’t suppress had more to do with her proximity to Grant than it did to actually being cold. The sips of alcohol she’d stolen from Konstantin’s flask still kept her warm. She was glad they’d decided not to go with beer from Evil Pixie, or she’d have spent most of the night taking trips to the ladies’ room.
It was hard to tell if the silence was as sexually charged for Grant as it was for her. It wasn’t comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, not considering the desire coiled deep in the pit of her stomach. They were alone, her arm linked through his, and they were drunk. She wanted to use it as an excuse to make a move on him but he’d see right through that.