Page 57 of All Bets Are Off

“You did not.” It took everything I had not to roll my eyes. “There’s no way.”

“I did.” Ruby was adamant. “He would tell us stories after spending the night at your house when he was a teenager. Sure, Rex was the lead in all those stories, but you always made a cameo.”

“I had braces and didn’t hit my final growth spurt until I was almost eighteen,” I argued. “That just did not happen.”

“He might not have been in love with you back then,” Ruby conceded. “He always liked you, though. He just couldn’t show it because of Rex. It’s that brother thing again. You guys were smart keeping your relationship under wraps and easing Rex into it the way you did. Now you get a happily ever after, and nobody will give you grief for it.”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, well, it seems to be working out.”

TWO HOURS LATER, I WAS TIPSY ENOUGHthat my inner warning voice had started sounding an alarm.

Don’t have another drink. If you do, you’ll say something stupid.

Zach’s sisters were surprisingly fun. Before tonight, I’d known next to nothing about them. Now we’d already made plans for a group lunch later in the week and Ruby and Tallulah were talking about going to some new bar off the strip together. They’d become fast friends.

I was just about to suggest that Tallulah and I should call it a night—one more drink and I was going to turn into a rambler of the highest order—when two individuals appeared at the edge of the table. I assumed it was a member of the waitstaff. I was disavowed of that notion quickly, however.

“Sexy Rexy!” Ruby squealed as she hopped to her feet and threw herself at the closest figure.

Rex, dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt, caught her and laughed as he managed to smooth down the skirt of her dress so it wouldn’t fly up. “Booby Ruby,” he replied automatically.

“Don’t call her that,” I hissed, horrified.

Rex proceeded to laugh harder. “I’ve called her that since we were twelve and she was fourteen.”

“My boobs popped overnight,” Ruby explained as she pulled away from him. “I was embarrassed, and he made things worse.”

Yeah, that tracked. “I didn’t get boobs until I was almost eighteen. Some things are worse. Trust me.” Slowly, I tracked my eyes to the individual with Rex and found myself staring at my own husband. “Well, this is a surprise.” My mouth had gone suddenly dry. Zach was in simple black pants and a baby blue button-down shirt but he looked ridiculously good.

“How did you find us?” Opal asked from the other side of the table. She looked suspicious at their sudden appearance rather than happy.

“I’m good at what I do,” Rex replied simply. “This one was getting worried about his wife.” He gave me a severe look. “Do you know how late it is, young lady?”

Was he kidding me right now? “I didn’t realize I’d missed curfew, Pa,” I drawled. I flicked my eyes back to Zach. “I told you not to wait up.”

“I figured we weren’t doing anything back at the penthouse,” Zach replied. He looked distinctly uncomfortable as he took in the roof bar. “Why not spend some time with my wife instead of watching the Lakers lose?”

“That should be your philosophy every night,” Opal offered helpfully.

Zach nodded. He clearly wanted to say something to me. The presence of his sisters was stymying him, though. Ultimately, he took us both by surprise when he extended his hand. “Dance with me.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t an order either. It was something in between. “Um…” Dancing? It was obvious why he wanted to dance. He wanted to get me away from his sisters—likely so he could tell me what a stupid idea it was to drink with them—but I wasn’t in the mood. “Pass.”

He frowned but kept his hand stubbornly extended in my direction. “Dance with me, please.”

It was the added “please” that did it for me. It was a word I was convinced his father had never taught him. He said it to me, though, and it was obvious he meant it. The word said more than I was prepared to absorb.

He needed me to meet him halfway. Up until this point, in the fight over the dancers—and maybe a little more—I hadn’t been willing to do that. Maybe it was time for that to change.

I slipped my hand into his, telling him I was willing to do the work to get through this year if he was. He tightened his grip on my hand and pulled me to my feet.

Our chests bumped because he didn’t step back, and his gaze was seeking as he looked over my face. “We’ll find our own way home,” he said to his sisters and my brother as he dragged me to where people were swinging their hips to a sexy jazz number. “Don’t wait up.”

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. He’d repeated the exact phrase I’d said to him when leaving the penthouse.

“Are you angry?” I asked when he pulled me into his arms on the dance floor.

“I can’t decide,” he replied. “You need to be careful around my sisters. They’ll drown you in alcohol just to get the good gossip from you.”

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