Page 76 of Dominate Me

That we hadn’t yet seen Meredith helped. Perhaps she wouldn’t show.

A girl could dream.

“You, too,” I said, pulling back from Talia’s firm hold. “And congratulations on your baby. Jensen hadn’t told me you were expecting.”

“Yes, well.” Her slim fingers went to her stomach and she rested her hand lazily on top of the roundness. “Yes, well, we thought we were happy with the two boys we have, but sometimes life takes you by surprise.”

“Slipped one past the goalie,” a man said. I assumed he was Donovan based on the way he walked up and slid his arm around Talia’s back. “Sort of like my Blackhawks did to your Red Wings last week.”

His eyes flickered to Jensen and he barked out a laugh.

I had a difficult time pulling myself away from the gorgeous couple in front of me. Donovan’s black hair was neatly styled, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he continued giving Jensen a hard time about something hockey-related. Talia was the light to his dark, she was slim and small but no less magnetic with her shining blue eyes and the curve of her lips as she listened to Donovan and Jensen volley back and forth.

She must have caught me watching her because she looked at me before rolling her eyes. “Men. Always with the sports.”

Donovan pulled her tighter, pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Like you and Laurie with your shoes.”

She laughed softly and faced me. “My best friend. But in our defense, shoes are practical. You own them, you wear them, you love them—”

“You hug them,” Donovan finished.

“Stop.” She slapped his chest and didn’t take her eyes off me. “Men and their sports, I mean...they just yell at a television. They get nothing except an empty pocket and I swear someday watching football is going to give Donovan a heart attack.”

“Yes, maybe, but in the meantime, I’ll enjoy the bottle of Dalmore Jensen still owes me.”

Next to me, Jensen’s fingers tightened on my hip and I looked up at him in confusion.

“What’s Dalmore?”

His dark blue eyes shone bright, barely concealing his amusement. “It’s a ten-thousand-dollar bottle of Scotch. We bet on the Red Wings-Blackhawks hockey series last week and I lost.”

My eyes jumped open and I mouthed, “Ten thousand?”

“Yup.” He faced Donovan and smirked. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

His threat carried the smallest hint of humor and Donovan shook his head, laughing it off.

“In all seriousness,” Talia said, cutting in and placing her hand on Jensen’s forearm. “Thank you so much for this benefit—for it going to the shelter. It means a lot to us.”

Donovan and Jensen clinked glasses and Jensen looked down at Talia, smiling indulgently. “Anything for you two, you know this.”

Jensen had explained to me that his history with Talia was slightly soap-opera-ish. Talia’s best friend’s husband used to work for Jensen before they moved to Ann Arbor. When Donovan and Talia got together, they needed a lawyer to help them get a teenage boy quickly away from his abusive father. It was then that Talia learned Donovan and Jensen were already friends.

Jensen had told me that since he was always alone, Talia worried about him and constantly included him in family dinners and holidays.

Had he looked like that toward any other woman, I might have been jealous.

I was even able to forget about Meredith for a while as Dylan and Gabby finally joined our small group and the six of us stood in a circle, chatting and enjoying drinks as well as small appetizers servers carried around.

I stuffed myself on bite-sized prosciutto-wrapped shrimp and scallops, taking one every time a server walked my way. Along with a stuffed mushroom ceviche. I didn’t even care if it lacked manners. Those suckers were delicious.

By the time Jensen pulled me to the side and kissed my cheek, whispering that it was time for him to give his speech, I was past the point of being a little bit tipsy, and my stomach was filled with delicious champagne and even better food.

“Stay close to Gabby and Dylan, okay?” he murmured, brushing his lips against my cheek. “This won’t take long.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assured him, unable to stop myself from touching him. My hand pressed to his stomach and the tightness of his muscles. I slid my hand up the front of his suit, until I wrapped my fingers around his lapels at his shoulder.

I rolled to my toes, tightened my grip on his suit and tugged him closer. “Why is it that when I’m this close to you, I simply have to touch you?” My slightly drunken eyes rolled to his. “What are you doing to me?”

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