Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers 3)

I tilt my face to him, immediately caught in his glittering copper eyes. “How do you know the lyrics to ‘As Long As You’re Mine’?” I whisper in awe.

“Fifteen years ago, after seeing Wicked, Darby became obsessed with that damn song and played it endlessly. I blocked it out of my brain until about a minute ago.”

“It’s one of the most revered love songs in Broadway history.”

“I understand why now.”

“You’re perfect.”

He lifts me off my feet effortlessly, bringing me eye-level and kissing me softly. “That’s my line for you.”

When the song ends, he leads me to our spot at the bar, waving to the bartender to refill our glasses. I glance around, taking in the thousands of lights falling in curtains to create a chandelier effect all around us. “This place is much more elegant than I imagined.”

“Scottie brought us here the first night in town. I didn’t get it then, but tonight I have a new appreciation for the atmosphere.” His gaze travels over me with the familiar heat tingling my skin. “Have I told you how gorgeous you are?”

He has many times, but my heart still melts. “I owe Ryanne huge for helping.” I don’t mention that, even though she laid out several options, she discreetly pinned a note inside this dress with the instructions ‘WEAR THIS ONE!’

The strapless silver mini-dress has a metallic ruffle slanting across my front and stopping right at the slit up my thigh. I paired it with bright pink strappy-heeled sandals that give me a few inches in height.

I thought it was fun and flirty.

Evin thought it was sexy. I found this out two seconds after I walked out of the bathroom and he swept me off my feet.

Either way, it works.

“I’m the one who owes Ryanne. Although I miss the flowers.” He tucks my loose hair behind my ear.

“I crushed it when I jumped on my boyfriend earlier.”

His lips curl up and his eyes go soft. “Best kind of casualty.”

I sip my champagne, smiling into my glass. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch someone stopping unusually close.

“Poppy?” My head snaps to the side to find Roman ogling me. Before I can greet him, I’m wrapped in his arms. “I thought that was you.”

“Hi, Roman.”

He loosens his hold, staying close. “You look beautiful. How are you?”

“I’m well, how about you?” My eyes flit to the side to find Evin rock solid, his jaw tight. His lethal gaze is locked on the good-looking man who just checked me out from my head to toe.

“I’m great. What brings you here?”

Ugh, this is awkward, but the tension radiating from Evin pushes me on. “I’m on a date.”

Evin’s arm curls around my waist possessively and Roman’s eyes drop. There’s a flash of surprise replaced with disappointment that’s impossible to miss. He covers it quickly, squaring his shoulders and smiling as he offers his hand. “Roman Spencer.”

Evin places his glass on the bar, intentionally not letting me go, and shakes his hand. “Evin Graham.”

Roman steps back, “Well, I’ll leave you two. It was nice to see you and meet you.” He jerks his chin to Evin.

“You too, Roman. Take care of yourself,” I reply with a sincere smile.

He takes off to the other side of the room, and when he’s out of range, Evin’s mouth is at my ear. “One look and I hated him on the spot. Now, I pity him.”

I twist into him and find his eyes no longer lethal. “Remember that one date over a year ago?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Friends set us up. It didn’t go anywhere.”

“Didn’t go anywhere at all?”

“Goodnight kiss.”

“Pity him.” He grabs his glass and empties it. “A kiss from you and then the brush off. He tasted perfection and never got a chance for more. No wonder he looked crushed.”

A warm and fuzzy sensation zings through me and I lean up, kissing the underside of his chin. “You say the sweetest things.”

“I may be a lot of things, but never sweet.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

He grins his sexy grin, and his eyes shimmer with approval. “Let’s keep it to ourselves.”

“Your secret is safe.”

“I hate to do this, but I need to excuse myself for a minute.”

“Why do you hate to do it?”

“Because looking like you do, I shouldn’t leave your side.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you will.” He strips off his suit jacket and drapes it around my shoulders, inching me toward the barstool. “Sit your fine ass right here, drink your champagne, and try not to bring too much attention to yourself.”

I scoot onto the stool and lift the glass to my lips.

“On second thought, don’t drink until I get back. Too sexy for your own good.”

I throw my head back laughing, which earns me a scowl. “Don’t move.”

He goes around the corner, and I follow his every step, appreciating how incredibly handsome he looks in his suit that was no doubt custom made for him. When he’s out of sight and I’m sure no one is looking, I wrap his jacket tighter and inhale deep, appreciating the incredible smell of his cologne. The fragrance is spicy and woody, totally old-school. It’s nothing like the trendy fragrances I buy Dante at Christmas. This is the scent of power and class.