Page 88 of Three Grumpy Groomsmen

Harrison tucks something into Ford’s front pocket. Ford frowns and pulls on the edge of it. It’s clearly Ivy’s panties.

I lift a brow at first Harrison, then Ivy.

“So, you had a good time?”

Harrison steps close to me and lifts his hand to my mouth. He slides his index and middle finger over my lips and into my mouth. “Taste for yourself.”

With my gaze locked on his, I swirl my tongue over the end of his two digits.

I don’t think I’m just imagining the taste of Ivy on his fingers.

I suck hard, watching Harrison’s eyes darken, then pull back and look at my girl. “Delicious.”

Her cheeks are dark pink, but she’s grinning.

Fuck, I actuallylovethat she and Harrison are getting along and having fun—even sexy fun—together. I love that Ford and I had a moment.

Yes, Ivy is definitely going to be my muse for the sweet tavern wench on the far-off planet of Nestia who Captain Daniels is going to fall head over heels for.

She’s been in the back of my mind for almost a year.

But dang, now I kind of have an urge to give her a couple more boyfriends.

Captain Daniels maybe needs more than just one person to really figure his life out.

CHAPTER 22

Ivy

I’ve beento Brad’s offshoot of Raw in L.A. a few times for obvious reasons, but it’s in Malibu and I hate the traffic on a good day, despise it on a bad day. It’s also what I consider a typical restaurant, pleasant and upscale, with excellent food, but it’s lacking in any sort of distinctive atmosphere.

Not that I ever told Brad that.

Raw in Charleston is a totally different vibe.

Maybe it’s the diners, who are in general, older and yet more boisterous than the L.A. crowd that frequents the Malibu location. Everyone seems to know everyone and there are a lot of diners stopping at other tables to chat and miraculously that doesn’t seem to piss off the wait staff. That behavior in L.A. would garner death stares from the staff, and fair enough. L.A. isn’t the kind of city that generates a lot of patience. Sunshine, great shopping, celebrity spotting, and fantastic hillside housing with views it has in abundance, but patience? Not so much.

Or maybe it’s watching Ford and Harrison in their element that gives Raw such a personal atmosphere.

Liam and I are seated at the large circular bar so that we don’t steal a table from a regular and so that the guys can pop over and chat whenever they have a free minute.

“This is my kind of place,” Liam says with appreciation as he runs his hand over the walnut bartop. “You know I like wood.”

I laugh. “Good thing I wasn’t drinking anything when you said that. Because yes, I know how much you like wood.” I squeeze his forearm and smile at him.

Liam grins back. “You’ve seen all the ways I appreciate wood, haven’t you? But I actually meant I like the decor. I’m so tired of everything being designed for a social media moment. This place is built around the concept of conversation. Great acoustics, comfortable chairs, ample spacing between tables. I like it.”

“I do too. You know what else I like? Being here with you.”

Liam is different in South Carolina. He’s more relaxed, more chatty.

Maybe it’s all the sex he’s getting or maybe it’s the slow pace of life in Honeysuckle Harbor.

Maybe it’s how fun and easy it has been being with Harrison and Ford. It’s been amazing to watch him find common ground with Ford and to see his relationship with Harrison deepen, whether he realizes it has or not.

Whatever it is, I like this for him. He’s clearly happy.

Liam’s gaze softens. “I like that too. This has been incredible, Ivy. I’m so damn in love with you.”

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