“But a hella lot less mature.”
“You’re the one ranking their Scoville scale while you stare at them like they’re filets.”
“Gunner is a Porterhouse, not a filet.”
Ava laughed. “And Tabon is a bone-in ribeye.”
“We should probably stop staring at them,” said her twin.
“Why? It doesn’t look like they’re bothered by it.”
“They’re ready for us,” said Tara, pointing at the photographer who was motioning them over.
Ava tried to walk past Tabon without looking at him, but just like before, she had no willpower where the man was concerned. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t catch her ogling him.
—:—
Razor winked at Ava when he caught her looking at him, and immediately regretted doing so. If what Doc had said was true and the K19 team would soon be responsible for her protection, he had to keep their relationship strictly professional.
When she smiled, he shook his head and turned away from her. Yeah, maybe he’d just hurt her feelings, but it would be far worse if she got it in her head that anything could happen between them.
“Time to pair up,” said the photographer a few minutes later. “Bride, groom, best man, maid of honor, and so on.”
Razor inwardly groaned. Why the hell had Quinn matched him up with Ava? This shit would go on all damn day. First, photos, then he’d probably have to sit with her during dinner, and then, he’d absolutely have to dance with her. Would it be terrible if he and Gunner switched? Yeah, probably.
When she came and stood next to him and the side of her boob grazed his arm, Razor thought he might jump right out of his skin. As though it had a mind of its own, his tricep moved back and forth, sending zingers straight to his groin.
“Be careful, Tabon, or I’ll have a wardrobe malfunction.”
“Wouldn’t bother me a bit.” Jesus, what was wrong with him? Wasn’t his brain communicating with his mouth?
“You might not mind, but Quinn definitely will.”
Tabon reluctantly shifted so no part of his body touched the sexy parts of hers. “Sorry,” he murmured, moving even farther away.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said, her eyes hooded.
She crossed her arms, and Razor’s eyeballs almost popped out of his head. If there was going to be a wardrobe malfunction, that was the surest way to
make it happen. Didn’t she realize what she was doing to her boobs and how little the halter dress she was wearing covered?
Razor looked down at her from the corner of his eye and, sure enough, he could almost see her nipples. Wait. Maybe he could see them. But what did she have stuck to them? Were those band-aids?
“What are you looking at?” Ava hissed, lowering her arms.
“Is everything okay? You know, here?” he asked, motioning toward his own chest.
“What? Oh my God, are you serious right now?” she whispered.
“I thought I saw bandages.”
Ava turned the other way, so her back was to him, but he could still see the flush of her embarrassment creep up her neck.
“They aren’t bandages,” she seethed.
Razor leaned forward. “So what are they?”
She turned around and huffed, covering her cleavage with her bouquet of flowers. “None of your business, and stop looking at me.”