Fated Hearts (Southern Bride 8)

“Annalise! Roger! Over here!” a female voice called out.

“There they are,” I said as I pointed to the table where Mary, Dylan, and Lynn were sitting with some other guy I hadn’t met.

“I’m glad you joined us for dinner, Roger,” Mary stated. She stood to hug Annalise, then turned and smiled at the guy sitting next to Lynn.

“Annalise, Roger, this is Monty, Dylan’s business partner and friend. He’s stuck here as well.”

I reached out and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Monty.”

Monty smiled at me and then focused on Annalise. He made no secret of the fact that he was checking her out, letting his eyes take in every inch of her body in a slow perusal. “Dylan said you were beautiful, but he didn’t say you were stunningly beautiful.”

For fuck’s sake, had he really just used that line on her? When I took a quick glance over at Annalise, she didn’t seem the least bit impressed. Instead, she looked at Lynn and extended her hand.

“I don’t believe we’ve met yet, Lynn.”

Lynn gave her a smile that was fake as hell and quickly shook Annalise’s hand, letting her gaze bounce from me to Annalise. “No, we haven’t had the pleasure.”

I pulled out a chair for Annalise, then sat next to her while Monty continued to stare. I glanced at Lynn and caught her staring at me.

Good grief, dinner was going to be long.

Twenty minutes into the meal, and I was fighting the urge to reach across the table and knock the shit out of Monty. He was obnoxious, and his endless flirting with Annalise was not only getting on my nerves, but everyone else’s as well. Never mind the fact that Lynn kept trying to pierce me with her fuck-me-now eyes.

“Annalise, what are you doing after dinner?” Monty asked.

Looking up from her meal, she replied, “I’m actually meeting someone up at the club on the top floor of the hotel.”

I tried to ignore the way that made my blood boil. Why should I care if Annalise was hooking up with some bartender? She was a grown woman, and one I hardly even knew. And if I didn’t care, why did the idea of Roby or Bobby, or whatever the hell his name was, touching Annalise make me want to hit someone?

Jackass Monty raised a brow and looked over at me. I smiled and went back to eating.

Suddenly, Lynn clapped her hands, which had us all looking at her as she bounced in her seat like a five-year-old. “We should all go to the club tonight. I mean, if we’re stuck in this godforsaken hotel, we might as well take advantage of it, right?”

Monty leaned back in his chair and grinned like the Cheshire cat. “That’s a great idea, Lynn. Who’s up for a trip to the club?”

Mary and Dylan exchanged a glance before they both agreed as well.

Lynn pinned hopeful eyes on me and asked, “What about you, Roger? Will you go too? I would love to dance with you.”

I could feel Annalise looking at me. “Sure, a little dancing never harmed anyone.”

When I turned to her, she smiled and then looked across the table at Lynn. She frowned, and I followed her gaze, only to find Lynn eye-fucking me again.

“Does that mean you’ll save me a dance or two?” Lynn asked me.

Ignoring her, I focused on Dylan. “What do you and Monty do for business?”

Dylan let out a chuckle, clearly catching on that I wasn’t the least bit interested in Lynn. “We own a consulting firm.”

“Really?” I asked. “What sort of consulting firm?”

“A large, very profitable one,” Monty added.

“What do you do, Roger?” Mary asked.

I gave a one-shoulder shrug. “My father owns a ranch. I help with the cows.”

Annalise laughed but then quickly covered it with a cough.

“What about you, sweetheart?” Monty asked, staring at Annalise.

“The name is Annalise,” she said with a frown. “Not sweetheart, babe, baby, darlin’, or princess.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I reached for my beer and took a sip.

“And I’m in hotel management,” she added.

“Here in Chicago?” Monty asked.

Annalise reached for her wine, but before she took a drink, she answered with one word. “No.”

“So, you sound like you’re from the south, Roger. And your daddy owns a ranch. How exciting. I’ve always wanted to…two-step with a cowboy.” Lynn slowly ran her tongue across her lips.

“This is not your lucky night then, Lynn,” I said. “Sorry, but I don’t know how to two-step.”

The girl actually pouted. Monty turned to her and said, “I know how to two-step. I’m from Dallas.”

Christ above, please don’t let this douche be on my flight back to Texas.

Lynn clapped her hands again and then wrapped her arm around Monty’s. “Then you get the first dance.”

“What if it isn’t a country song, Lynn?” Mary asked.

Monty’s and Lynn’s eyes were locked, almost as if seeing each other for the first time. “Who cares?” Lynn purred as she tilted her head and winked at Monty.