Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers 3)

“Let’s go.” He offers his elbow, and I link my hand through, letting him lead us through backstage. With each step closer to the stage door, my anticipation grows.

The second we hit the side lobby, there’s a chorus of clapping. Dante slips into his post-performance mode, taking my hand and twirling me out before swinging me back. The claps grow louder, but my focus lands on the man perched against the wall, his eyes searing where Dante has his hold on my waist.

I’m not the only one who notices. “If that man wasn’t single before tonight, he is now. Think you should introduce me before my flesh incinerates,” Dante whispers, releasing me.

“Everyone, this is my best friend, Dante.”

They all talk at once, praising the show. Dante soaks up the attention, squeezing my elbow before nudging me to the side and out of the cluster. Evin remains against the wall, watching intensely. Dante’s right, he looks every bit the Armani model. The bright lights from the chandeliers highlight the copper sheen of his eyes that are locked with mine. After what seems like forever, he pushes off.

I’ve been a dancer most of my life, and for the last seven years, I’ve been a performer in Las Vegas. The industry is not for the faint of heart. It’s never gotten to me. But right now, staring up into the eyes of this gorgeous man, my nerves are shot.

“Did you enjoy the show?” I ask on a shaky breath when he steps close.

“Stunning.”

“Many people feel that way after seeing it for the first time.”

“I’m not referring to the show.” He bends, running his lips across my cheek and bringing them close to my ear. “You are remarkable.”

Just like that, my nerves somersault into a rollercoaster dive. “Thank you.”

He stands back to full height, staying close so the scent of his cologne washes over me. “Poppy?”

I tip my face to find his eyes are back to the intensity I noticed earlier. “Yes?”

“There’s no telling what this group has planned. Promise me you’ll save the last dance for me.”

At his request, a ripple of excitement joins my overactive nerves.

“Pips, time for me to head home,” Dante announces.

“I’ll walk you out.”

Scottie and Billy say their goodbyes while Evin stands to shake his hand. Even in the low lights of the club, it’s easy to see something passes between them before Dante flashes his approving smile.

“You satisfied I’m safe now?” I ask when we’re almost to the door.

“Wouldn’t be leaving you if I didn’t think you were in excellent hands.” He twists, surprising me by pulling me into a hug. “Who would have thought my gypsy goddess would fall for a business mogul?”

“I think falling for him is premature.”

He releases me. “Not for anyone paying attention and who knows you as I do. But do me a favor and think long and hard before you jump ahead of yourself. Even you aren’t immune to the Vegas curse.”

“You don’t think… I’m not… You think I’m going to sleep with him tonight?”

“Sweet Poppy, you may be innocent, but you’re not ignorant. Even you can’t miss how that man has been observing you like a hawk. It’s like watching a primal form of foreplay.”

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

“That man is all man. He could easily have left hours ago with any woman in here.”

A wave of insecurity washes over me. “Thanks a lot.”

Dante’s expression softens, and he reaches to squeeze my hand. “Don’t you dare let your mind go there. I’m pointing out the obvious. He only has eyes for you. He’s marked his territory without a single word. I’m just telling you to be careful.”

I swallow down the self-doubt, knowing Dante’s concern is coming from a place of protection and love. “Noted, and I appreciate your concern, but I have it under control.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow morning. Now get back there and give that man the dance he is not-so-patiently waiting for.”

He’s barely out of sight when an odd sensation creeps up my spine. I turn to find Evin standing there with an unreadable expression.

“I think my patience has been pretty generous.”

My cheeks burn knowing he overheard.

He comes to me, taking my hand and leading me around the club to the opposite side of where our table is.

When we’re in our own little secluded space, he pulls me against him. My arms instinctively wrap around his shoulders as he sways.

“Did I pass the test?” His voice has a hint of humor.

“It wasn’t a test. He wanted to know the people I was out with.”

“Honey, everyone but Scottie and Billy left hours ago. He was sticking around to make sure you were okay. More specifically, you were okay with me.”

“Yes, you passed the test.”

“Good.”

“He’s a little protective.”

“Caught that the second he stepped into the lobby.”

“He’s my family,” I admit unnecessarily.

“Assumed as much.”

“How?”

“How?” His eyebrows arch. “How’d I know he was family? Or that he was putting me to the test?”