Page 5 of Inflame

“Go on back, he’s expecting you,” she says with a smile. I halt in my tracks and turn back to try to read her expression for truth. My face must portray my confusion, because she quickly elaborates. “Miss McFee was just on the phone with him.”

“Okay…”

“She wasn’t happy either,” she says with wide eyes.

I nod and walk down the hall. I imagine Graham has his hands full with Angie and her temper. He met his match when he set eyes on her. They haven’t even been dating a year, but it is easy to see that they are destined to be together. Even my jaded soul can see that. Knocking twice, I open the door without waiting for permission. Graham is at his desk, feet on top, leaning back in his leather chair.

“Was hoping you would pop in,” he says, placing his hands behind his head, as he examines me.

“Oh really?”

“Just got an earful from my stressed-out fiancée after her best friend called her in an uproar over the planning committee that you two are heading.”

“We are the only two members,” I point out.

“Then it should be even easier to learn to be civil,” he counters. “You just have one person to work with. Surely you can do that, baby bro. Claire cannot be that difficult to manage.”

I chuckle under my breath and take the chair in front of his desk to relax into. So she called Angie to vent about me. I must be getting to her, and the thought of getting under her skin makes me smirk. I kick up my legs and my feet join his on his polished surface. “You know how crazy Claire can get with her ideas,” I explain, as if her bad mood toward me is her own fault.

“Tame her.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“You choose not to.”

I shrug. “Fair enough.”

“You know she’s taken, right?”

“Had no idea,” I deadpan. He only brings it up at least once a week since this whole engagement thing started. With the whole wedding planning underway for a spring wedding at the mansion, the venue we use for hosting Entice mixer events, there is no escaping Claire and her…

Ideas? Spirit? Tight ass?

Simply put, she intrigues me. How could she not? I can’t stop thinking about her dream board—or whatever it is called—with the little perfectly cut out magazine pictures. And let’s not forget the color coding. Is she in middle school? Who even reads magazines anymore in print and does crafts? She had them impeccably arranged and added Velcro. Velcro! Who does that? No one who is in their early twenties. I may not be an expert, but that much I know is a fact.

If she shows up in Vegas with her twenty count of pens, I may have to say something. I laugh to myself as I remember the look on her face when she watched me cross out each restaurant name, one by one. I’m honestly surprised she didn’t hit me. I think I may have deserved it.

“Play nice with her,” Graham warns. “For Angie’s sake. You know how much she has been through in her life. Don’t piss around with her best friend. Because if you do and Angie comes charging after me, then I’ll have to get involved.”

“What does that mean, Graham? You going to fight me?”

“If I have to.”

“Just like old times?” I ask, remembering the many times we sparred during our high school wrestling days. I have an inch or two on him despite being younger by a couple of years, but we think alike and are challenging opponents.

Graham’s smile is genuine. He has been sporting a shitty grin ever since he met his girl. I sure hope it lasts. “Seems much longer than a decade ago. So much has happened between then and now. When are you going to start taking your dating life seriously again?”

“Never.” I hate talking about myself—especially my sex life—and need to change the subject before big bro starts in with the L-word topic.

“Don’t let one bitch derail your entire life.”

“Too late.”

He sighs and brushes hair off his forehead. “Going to get lonely.”

“My dick is never lonely.”

“Okay, that’s my cue to change topics,” he says, tilting his head toward the ceiling and exhaling.

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