Page 238 of Overcast

“I’d say more than that,” he replies before raising his hand for me to shake. “I hope you can forgive me as easily as the dickhead you’re staying with.”

“Depends on the beer,” I deadpan, clasping my hand around his. I give him a weak grin. “Consider yourself off the hook.”

I can see the held inhale he was keeping leave his body. “You’re too good for him.”

“Told you,” Mills chimes in, giving me a wink. “Be careful though, you have to fight Emric, Reagan, and Emmy for just a second with her now.”

I peer over to look at Emmy, who’s already wearing a rosy smile.

She shrugs. “Guilty.”

I loop my arm back around hers, giving her a friendly nudge. She turned out to be a really good person during an odd circumstance, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

“Is this Stormi?” A female voice inquires behind us, getting Emmy to tense against me.

Peering over my shoulder, a drop-dead gorgeous woman strides in our direction. Her thick locks of red hair bounce with each step, her curvy hips wave seductively as she stares at me while she approaches.

Sporting a gold, sparkly dress that she wears as a second skin, she removes her black sunglasses to display piercing green eyes with long eyelashes and flawless olive complexion. Her lips are plump with a natural shade of pink lipstick, and when her arm extends at me, even I’m tongue-tied at her beauty.

When I don’t respond to acknowledge my own self, Mills offers, “The very one.”

She flicks her gaze down my frame. “Damn, you’re the one who tamed down the monster. Well done.”

Speaking of...

I haven’t seen him anywhere yet, and I want to ask Emmy but don’t want to come off as rude.

“Thanks,” I reply, finally returning her handshake and watching her settle between the men in front of me. She props her elbow on Kyson’s shoulder, plucking the toothpick out of his mouth.

“How long has it been?”

“Two months,” he replies then glances at me. “No smoking.”

“Wow—” I raise my brows. “—that’s great. Congratulations.”

“He’s been cranky as hell,” she offers, giving him back his wooden stick. “—he needs something else to preoccupy his time.”

“Let’s hope it’s not you,” Emmy cajoles, straightening her spine as though she’s waiting on Blue to attack. Tension fills the space between us, but Blue displays nothing but amusement written all over her pretty face.

“Did you claim him too, Emmy Lou?” Blue muses, flicking the end of Kyson’s toothpick with her index finger before removing her propped elbow off his body. “I think I might need a list, although that only leaves Mills left.”

“I’m not getting thrown into your catfights,” Mills voices, lifting up both of his palms. “All I know is that y’all fighting over Bishop is a waste of time.”

Bishop?

My interest is beyond peaked, sending my mind reeling to all the weeks that they were around me. Not one of them remotely triggers any sort of love interest or flirting from what I can remember.

“No one is fighting over anyone,” Emmy retorts, rearranging her blonde locks over her collarbone. “It’s bad to mix work and your personal life.”

“I had fun,” Blue adds in. “Sometimes you just need to pound the stress out.”

Emmy’s body constricts in my hold as a buzzing sensation reverberates through the top layer of my skin. I catch Kyson’s face, watching something behind me, and I follow it. The desire to know strongly forcing me to look.

In my wake is Marty dressed in fresh-looking khaki pants and a white, button-up shirt that is cuffed up below his forearms. It shows off his chest and the bulkiness of his shoulders. The light colors he’s in mocks the man who does dark things. It presents more of a formidable danger smoking off of him.

And, Lord, save me. I think I’m more consumed to his darkness than I thought I was.

The sun brightens the greens and browns in his eyes as he stops within a foot of me. He trimmed down the scruff along his jawline and chin, but Marty is still the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life.

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