Page 55 of Welker

She gave a small cough to recenter him, as if sensing that his mind had wandered. “The Welker I know would at least be putting up a fight, unless…” Moira had the audacity to lean back in her chair and look down. She chuckled tightly. “…you’re not thinking with your big brain right now.”

Was it actual interest flowing from her mouth right now? If so, he’d be a fool to miss this opportunity. Welker decided to be honest.

His voice emerged, raspy. “I’m having a hard time thinking of anything right now, besides what you are or aren’t wearing under that sexy-as-hell dress.”

Moira blushed prettily, but snorted. “A very hard time, if I’m not mistaken.”

Welker blinked. This was a Moira with whom he was unfamiliar. He thought he knew all her iterations, but this suggestive, teasing one certainly hadn’t been on his bingo-card.

“It’s all your fault,” he informed her hoarsely. “I was interested before…” he brought his fingertips up and let them play over her bare shoulder, “…all this,” he completed, loving the goosebumps that broke out on Moira’s arms. “But now you’ve ramped up the temperature, and I feel like I’m boiling over.” He lowered his head and dared kiss the skin his digits had just traced.

He knew he couldn’t get away with his actions for long, and sure enough, Kyle elbowed him from his other side. “Uh, we won’t hold it against you two if want to leave,” he said with a grin.

Welker glanced up from his wanton perusal of Moira and noticed that all his tablemates were giving him the side-eye while not-so-convincingly pretending not to notice his unbridled behavior.

He looked at Moira. She looked back, and…

“I’ll just give the bartender my credit card,” she stated.

She stood, shook out her pretty skirt, and sashayed her fine ass across the room while he followed its every move.

“Oh, man. You’ve got it bad,” Cisco teased.

His girlfriend, Hilly, groaned and smacked him on the shoulder. “And you don’t? I see you need a reminder of how you were acting only a few weeks ago.” She raised her voice. “Guys? What did Cisco’s face look like when he was falling for me?”

Immediately, a hilarious bunch of moon-eyes were made, along with a lot of lash-fluttering and maybe a little mouth-drool added in for effect. Cisco put up both hands in surrender and smirked at Hilly. “Can I help it if I’m a sucker for my woman? I’ll show you just how much I love you.” He attacked her mouth, clearly kissing the stuffing out of her.

“Aww,” Rowan mugged, faking disappointment as she looked sadly at her husband. “Now that we’re married, I think Kyle’s kind of dropped that ball.”

The man in question glowered, then lowered his head to Rowan’s ear where he nipped it and let out a snarl. “I’ll show you dropped balls, sweetheart.”

As if some kind of Pavlovian bell had been rung, Mike arose and drew his keys from his pocket, eyeing Joelle like his next meal. “Time to go, honey.”

There was shuffling from all the mated couples as they got to their feet, clearly following Mike’s lead. Welker rose, too, after surreptitiously untucking his shirt to cover up…things.

“Hey?” Moira asked as she rejoined the company, her demeanor puzzled. “Where’s everybody going? We haven’t even played skee-ball yet.”

Mason, ever the boss, took over. “It seems we’ve lost interest.” He cleared his throat. “You and Welker have inadvertently reminded everyone that this is Saturday night, and if we…happen to stay up a little late, we can all sleep in tomorrow morning.” He waggled his brows, and got a snort from Everlee, who was leaning against him, heavily.

Welker marveled that the third trimester hadn’t slowed the couple down.

“So, we’re calling it,” Mason finished.

He raised his voice to be heard at all the other tables. “Moira has kindly paid the current tab, but just so you know, you’re on your own for any more.”

“Thanks, Moira!” Glasses were raised in her direction, and Welker could tell she was inordinately pleased. Feeling like part of the gang—when she wasn’t being part of an active team—had been a long time coming for her, and Welker felt nothing but joy on her behalf, knowing it would only get better from here.

And while she was mellow…

“You ready to go?” Welker asked, daring to take her elbow.

She licked her lips.

“Yes,” she answered breathily. “I believe I am.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Moira was filled with both nerves and bravado; a strange combination. She dared draw playful circles on Welker’s thigh as they drove back to his place, yet the finger that ran across all those hard muscles trembled imperceptibly.

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