“I’m good,” she replied with a warm smile. “I hear you’ve started your own business. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. It was the right time. Long days, but they feel good.”
“I can relate.” Poppy laughed. “Most weeks, I log more hours than I care to admit to. Doesn’t leave much time for a personal life.”
“My mom says your place is doing well. I’ll have to stop in sometime.”
She looked pleased at his comment. “It’s been a hectic few months, that’s for sure, and I’m not complaining, but it’s hard sometimes. That’s why I was happy to have Blue start working last week.”
Huh. So the rumors were true. He snuck a look at Blue, but her head was bent, that cascade of blonde silk obscuring her face once more.
An awkward silence fell between them all, with the guys jockeying for a premiere spot at the table while Kylie lapped up the attention Sean and Will heaped onto her. Mick was making small talk with Blue, while she seemed to be more interested in her mug of beer than anything else—especially Cam.
Restless, Cam rolled his shoulders and decided to leave, but Brandon showed up with a couple of cold beers and a smile as wide as the evening sky.
Poppy had up and disappeared, and after introducing Brandon to Kylie and Blue, he turned away. Mick was getting a little too close to Blue, but it wasn’t as if she was his business. He should go. The Coach House was still buzzing and would be for at least another hour, with the crowd seemingly thicker than before. Brandon took him aside, his smile lopsided.
“I want the brunette.”
“Jesus, Bran. You sound like an idiot .”
Brandon’s smile widened. “Can’t help it. She’s exactly what I need.” He nodded to the right. “The blonde looks like she’d bust balls faster than Usain Bolt running the one-hundred meter.” He chuckled. “If Mick isn’t careful, he’ll leave here without his.”
Cam hid a scowl. Mick had always been dense. It was obvious Blue had no interest in him at all. In fact, she’d downed her glass of beer and refilled another in less than five minutes—and that one was nearly empty. The conversation was one-sided, but Mick was a guy on a mission, and Cam knew that conversation didn’t matter to him. He’d hang on as long
as he could and hopefully wear her down with the hope she’d go home with him. The thought made him frown. She wouldn’t be that stupid, would she? Mick was okay in the looks department, and sure the guy hit the gym pretty hard, but he was one-dimensional, and Cam was pretty sure Blue needed more than that to hold her interest.
God, he thought. Where the hell was his brain taking him? On what planet did he even care what or who Bluebell Barnes found interesting?
He frowned and gave himself a mental shake. What was wrong with him? He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and came back with his keys. Screw it. He was leaving.
A slow song came on, the words and melody enhanced by a voice what was full of soul and dark with magic. It was blues and sex and smooth whiskey. Donovan James. Cam recognized it and wasn’t surprised when the dance floor began to fill.
“I think this is our song.” Brandon made his move, and Cam watched as Brandon looked pointedly at Kylie.
“Is it now?” she asked coyly, obviously liking what she saw in the tall, strapping man.
“Sure is,” Brandon replied, reaching for her and deftly moving her away from the other men. He didn’t pound his chest or anything, but it was a Tarzan move all the same. Sean and Will grumbled and disappeared into the crowd, no doubt looking for someone a little more receptive.
“How about it? Wanna dance?” Mick moved to make room for Blue to slip off her chair, but she emptied her glass instead and pressed unsteady fingers to her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed, and a thin sheen of sweat beaded her brow.
“You okay?” Cam asked, concern lacing his words as he took a step toward her.
“I…” She exhaled and looked at Mick before slowly turning back to Cam. She slid off the chair and wavered a bit. A whiff of a delicate floral scent wafted the air, and something hard and fierce rose up inside Cam. There was a fragility to Blue, like she was paper-thin and a strong wind could knock her down.
“You’re drunk,” he said.
“Maybe.” She looked out at the crowd and then back at Cam. No way was he leaving her here with Mick Sanders.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.”
She blew out a long breath. “Where’s Poppy?”
Cam looked around. “I don’t know, but I think you need to go.”
“Hey. I got this.” Mick stepped closer, and Cam nailed him with a hard look.
“Step back, Sanders.”