Page 57 of Catch and Release Groom

“Uh-oh,” he said with a husky chuckle.

“Hey, you were the one who called me smart. Much like Victor Frankenstein, you created this monster, and now you have to deal with it.”

“Well, since my monster is much hotter, I’m happy to deal with the consequences.” He drew her closer and kissed her temple, and she almost forgot she’d been about to make a joke.

“During the game, you referred to my fly-fishing lesson as our first date, and it was super sweet and all, but that means Ipaid youto take me on a date.”

“Don’t cheapen it by acting like it wasn’t worth every penny.”

A giggle slipped out, and she stretched like a cat that’d awoken from a long nap. “True. Especially since you threw in that free bonus session where I managed to hook a fish instead of a cranky dude.”

Easton’s jaw dropped in faux offense. “I thought the fact that you haven’t thrown me back meant something. But if it’ll make you feel better…” He swiped his scruffy chin across the nape of her neck and kissed her bare shoulder. “I’m happy to offer you a thirty-day satisfaction guarantee.”

She liked how he wasn’t denying it was a date or insisting he’d said that merely for the game, even if it were true. “Hmm.” She pursed her lips and studied his face as if she were cataloguing every feature, and admittedly, she was. She wanted to remember everything about this moment. “I’m not ready to release you quite yet.”

When he unleashed a slow smile she felt it down to her toes; she didn’t blame the sculptor this time—she took full credit. She also took advantage of the chance to raise her chin and kiss the mouth that’d exasperated her, piqued her curiosity, complimented her, and delivered the best orgasm she’d ever had.

“Well, in that case,” Easton said. “How would you feel about coming with me to a high-stakes poker game?”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Easton walked the familiar wooden plank leading to Crawford’s houseboat, keeping hold of Imogen’s hand as she followed him down the narrow walkway. He could’ve warned his friends he was bringing company, but what fun would that be?

Gator decided they were going too slow and darted past, rushing to the door and performing three rapid circles as she waited for them to catch up.

The clatter of poker chips, clink of beer bottles, and several overlapping conversations slammed into him as he opened the door and stepped inside, the noise as boisterous as it was comforting. Everyone sat around the table in their usual places and, given the new members they’d gained in the last year, the houseboat was nearly bursting at the seams. Tradition dictated their poker nights took place here, and none of them were in a hurry to change that. There was enough change in the world as it was.

It looked like Murph hadn’t dealt yet, so they were just in time.

“Finally,” Ford exclaimed, lifting his head in Easton’s direction. “I thought you were gonna be a punk-ass bitch and—”

Easton shifted to the side, just enough for his friends to see Imogen.

Silence wasn’t something that happened often with their group, but even the munching came to a complete and utter stop.

“I’m sure y’all were hoping you’d get to throw another intervention,” he said, “but it’s your lucky night. Not only am I gracing you with my presence, I brought a guest.”

Nervousness edged Imogen’s smile, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tucked her next to him. Yes, to offer her support, but also because the hallway barely qualified as such.

“Everyone, this is Imogen. Imogen, this is…” Easton went clockwise around the table. “Tucker and Addie—or Murph as most of us call her. Ford and Violet.” They each nodded. “Shep and Lexi.”

“Oh my goodness, it’s so nice to meet you, Imogen.” Lexi beamed, struggling to remain seated—playing hostess ran in her DNA. “May I just say, Easton was right. You are stunning.”

Imogen’s chin dipped as she thanked her for the compliment, and Lex could calm down the matchmaking vibes. Didn’t she see he’d already been matched?

Ice crept through his bloodstream.Only temporarily.

Which was what he wanted, so his gut had no business dropping to his toes.

“You and I can slide in here.” Easton gestured to the empty chair that’d put his back to the kitchen cabinets.

But before he could shimmy on in, Gator lost her patience, whimpering and pawing at the glass patio door. Reminding him she was still waiting to play withherfriends. “Right, right. Sorry, GB.”

A lightwhooshaccompanied the glide of the door as he let his dog onto the puppy-proofed deck to join the rest of the pack.

Imogen ducked under Easton’s arm, her eyes alight as she watched the canine free-for-all. “Oh my God, they’re so cute!”

“The white lab is Flash,” he told her, pointing out the mutts as they tumbled around, tails wagging, tongues hanging out. “That’s Trouble biting Flash’s ear and about to get rolled for it.”

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