“About an hour. I have to dry my hair.” Tonight, we are having dinner with Michelle, Luka, Jax, and Ellie. I’m still annoyed with Jax, or maybe he’s annoyed with me, so we haven’t talked much. But Dillon saw him yesterday and told him he and Ellie should come out to dinner with us, and Jax agreed. I just hope tonight is not a huge drama fest. I love my brother; I love his wife and daughter, but I refuse to let anyone ruin this thing between Dillon and me.
Wait, what? I freeze, wondering where that thought came from.
“So we can go nap for a bit?” He nuzzles my neck, making me lose my train of thought as he lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bed.
And for once in my life as he crawls in behind me, I don’t care that my hair is soaking my pillow and sheets.
*
“Ashlyn.” Ellie smiles, standing from the table when she spots us across the restaurant. As soon as I’m close, she wraps me in a hug, whispering, “I’m so happy for you, and I think everyone else will be too.” God, I really hope she’s right.
“I hope so,” I say aloud, squeezing her back, then I let her go and look at Jax, who is standing behind her.
“Come here.” He holds out his arms and I move right to him, giving him a tight hug. “You know I love you, sis,” he mutters against my hair, and tears sting my nose.
“I know. I love you too,” I agree, letting him go, then turn when Michelle comes sashaying toward the table, followed by Luka.
“Oh, my God. Where did you get that dress? I need one just like it.” She whistles and I look down at my dress, ignoring Dillon’s grumble behind me, since I heard his annoying dislike of the dress after I put it on at the house. Actually, he totally loved the dress; I think he had me pinned against the wall two seconds after seeing me in it. He just didn’t like the idea of me wearing it out of the house, but oh well.
“Nordstrom Rack.” I smile. I love my dress, with its V-neck lace halter, deep cut in the back, tight bodice, and pleated skirt.
“You are not getting a dress like that,” Luka says from behind her, and she rolls her eyes, wrapping me in a hug as Dillon says something agreeing with him.
“Luka.” I smile warmly once Michelle has let me go then launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his huge, muscular waist, and try to pick him up. I fail miserably, but his grin is enough of a reward as he presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“I’m so happy for you two,” I tell him, and his grin broadens.
“It’s about time she agreed to marry me.” He eyes soften over my head, and I know he’s looking at Michelle. Luka was a player before her, but somehow she wrapped him around her tiny little finger within a week of dating, he’s been asking her forever to marry him. Laughing, I step back to stand next to Dillon and feel his hand against the exposed skin of my back.
“Luka, Dillon. Dillon, this is Luka,” I introduce them, since Dillon knows everyone else at the table.
“I gotta say this and get it out of the way, so we can relax and enjoy dinner. You hurt our girl, and I will personally kill you,” he states, completely straight-faced, and I feel my eyes widen. Looking up at Dillon to see his reaction, I almost fall over when he nods and takes Luka’s hand in a firm shake. “Now, that’s out of the way. I need a beer.” He smiles at Dillon then chucks me under my chin with his fist.
I expect it to be awkward after that, but as soon as we sit and the waiter comes over, the guys each order a beer and us girls order a bottle of wine to share, along with appetizers to munch on while we wait for our food.
“Fuck,” Michelle says, and I turn to look at her with my fried mozzarella wedge halfway to my mouth.
“What?”
“Your ex.”
“What?” I frown then turn my head and catch my ex, Josh, heading toward our table.
“Oh, great,” I grumble, setting my uneaten cheesy wedge of goodness on my plate. Josh and I dated about eight months ago and had approximately two-point-two dates before I ended things with him. He really didn’t do anything to me; he was just annoying.
“Ashlyn, I thought that was you,” he greets, coming to stand at the table near my side. I tilt my head back to look at him, then squeak when Dillon grabs my chair and slides me so close I may as well be on his lap.