Fated Hearts (Southern Bride 8)

Annalise leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I feel like we’ve just been saved in some weird way.”

I smiled and turned my head, nearly brushing my lips against hers. Annalise drew back in surprise, but the smile stayed on her face.

“Let’s hope,” I said.

Annalise

THE MOMENT ROGER placed his hand on my lower back when we stood from the table, I felt my body tremble again. It was subtle enough that I knew he wouldn’t notice—like he hadn’t noticed when he’d gently guided me onto the elevator and then over to the table. Every damn time he touched me, my heart felt as if it was about to leap right out of my chest.

We pulled ahead of the rest of our group, and Roger leaned down to speak quietly to me.

“I’m pretty sure Lynn was trying to play footsy under the table with me.”

I laughed. “She was. She kept hitting my leg, and I finally kicked her foot away. That was about the time she started to pay attention to Monty.”

He chuckled, and I loved how the sound rumbled in his chest. “Thank you, then. I thought at one point she was going to jump across the table and attack me.”

“Me too! And what about that clown, Monty? Oh, my gawd, could he be any more stuck on himself?” I asked as I tossed a quick look over my shoulder. Monty and Lynn were pulling up the rear, deep in conversation.

“Well, at least you won’t have to worry about him when you meet up with your date later.”

I stumbled, and Roger reached for my arm to steady me. “Sorry, not used to walking in these heels,” I said. “And by the way, it’s not a date.”

We stopped at the elevator, and Roger pushed the arrow pointing up. The rest of the group slowly made their way toward us. “Your bartender friend probably thinks it is. You told him you’d meet up with him, Anna. That’s a date.”

Why did I love the way he said my name? It was that southern accent of his and the way he didn’t use a long “A.”

“Well, it’s not. I told him I would meet him and his friends. I didn’t say I planned to spend the entire night with him.”

Roger laughed again. “Good, because there’s no bringing anyone back to our room.”

I huffed and replied, “Like I would ever do that.”

He simply shrugged.

A thought hit me right in the middle of my chest. What if Roger met someone and wanted to bring them back to our hotel room? A strange sensation rushed through me.

Holy hell. Is that…jealousy?

“What’s the matter?” Roger asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing, just silly thoughts running through my mind.”

He raised a brow. “Care to share?”

“No, I do not.”

He winked and my stomach flipped. Damn this man and the way he makes me feel.

Roger and I rode up in the elevator in silence as the rest of our group chatted on and on about the club we were going to and how amazing it would be. I exchanged a look with Roger as we were getting off the elevator and nearly tripped. He was smiling at me. With those dimples. Ugh.

Quickly looking away, I focused on the entrance to the club in front of me. Roby would be standing on the other side of the door, and I suddenly realized how stupid it was of me to agree to meet him here. I had done it purely out of spite because Roger had been talking to Lynn in the bar earlier. Why, hello there, jealousy. I see you’re back again already.

“You’re a little early if you’re supposed to meet him at eleven,” Mary said as she walked up next to me.

I glanced at her and said, “I’m not that worried about it—it was just an excuse to get out, to be honest.”

Mary nodded and looked back over her shoulder at Dylan. “I’m really glad you came into that workout room this morning. If you hadn’t, I would have never even spoken to Dylan.”

I followed her gaze. “You like him?”

Her eyes met mine, and she smiled brightly. “I really do. We’ve spent all day together. Talking, walking around the hotel, and getting to know each other. I’m sorta hoping Lynn hooks up with Monty so Dylan and I can be alone tonight.”

My brows shot up in surprise. “Oh, wow! You really…really like him.”

Mary blushed. “Yeah, I think the feeling is mutual.”

I glanced over to where Dylan stood, talking to Roger.

“But where does he live? Where do you live?” I asked.

“He lives in Philadelphia, and I live in Houston.”

“So, it would be long-distance.”

She nodded. “But I can work anywhere for my job, which is a plus.”

“What is it you do?”

“I design websites, so I work one-hundred percent from home. Not that I’m saying I would up and move. I haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours,” she said with a chuckle. “At first, I thought it might be a fun adventure to have a bit of a love affair, and for all I know, it could still turn out to be just that. For once, I’m not going to listen to my head. I’m going to live in a fairy tale land for a while.”