Page 58 of Catch and Release Groom

Now she was looking athimlike he was an adorable puppy.

“Anyway,” Easton said gruffly, gripping her hips and pivoting her toward the interior of the houseboat. He walked them back to the table, sat in his chair, and then patted his thighs, inviting Imogen to share.

She bit her thumbnail, uber focused on digging the toe of her shoe into the floor. “It’s been a long time and I’m fuzzy on the rules, so maybe I should just watch?”

Every variation ofnocame at her at once, and whileheknew his friends meant to be encouraging, he wasn’t certain she did. He held up a hand and said, “I think I might’ve scared her off by telling her it was high stakes.”

The legs of his chair wobbled as he leaned far enough to snag hold of her wrist and tow her onto his lap. “Nowadays, we just play for cash. A twenty-dollar buy in, and I’ve got you.” He rubbed soothing circles across her shoulders and whispered so only she’d hear, “You did pay for our first date, after all.”

There was the easy smile, and he felt her muscles loosen, too.

Circling one hand around her upper thigh to hold her in place, he balanced his weight on one ass cheek and fished his wallet out of his pocket. He withdrew a couple of crisp twenty-dollar bills and tossed them in Murph’s direction. “Back in high school, these poker showdowns determined our sleeping arrangements. Winner and runner-up got the bed, with third place taking the couch. Loser slept on the breakfast bar.” He canted his head toward the hardwood bench Violet, Shep, and Lexi sat on. “They have to buy beer the next time, too, which still stands true today.”

“Although our sleeping arrangements are less platonic than they used to be,” Tucker said, using the arm draped around Murph’s shoulders to cozy closer and plant his mouth on hers. For two people who’d never shown much PDA when they’d dated other people, they sure liked to push the boundaries now.

Their display set off a chain reaction. The rest of his friends and their significant others gazed adoringly into one another’s eyes, and smitten grins preceded the sucking of faces.

But tonight, he couldn’t care less. He wasn’t sitting here bored, twiddling his thumbs as he became the extraneous wheel.

“Appears to be make-out time,” he murmured, dipping his head and running his tongue along Imogen’s upper lip. As if they’d been together for years instead of days, she twisted and molded her body to his, keeping up stroke for stroke and grope for grope.

A few minutes later, they all came up for air. As one, they seemed to remember they were here to play poker and, with nothing more than exchanged glances and collective nods, they picked up right where they’d left off.

Chips were stacked in front of them while Easton gave Imogen the brush up she’d requested, from high card to pairs, straights, and flushes, all the way up to the difficult-to-obtain, royal flush.

“Got it.” Imogen reached for the cards Murph had dealt, lifting off his lap a few inches and gifting him with a prime view of her glorious ass.

“So, Easton mentioned you’re a runaway bride,” Shep said through the crunching of the Doritos that’d stained his fingertips orange.

“Five dollars. Cough it up.” Murph held out a palm to Crawford, who groaned and relinquished a red poker chip. “We had a side bet,” she explained when everyone lobbed curious looks in her direction. “I wagered Shep would be the first to put his foot in his mouth, and Tucker thought it’d be Ford.”

Easton mimicked the sinking of his gut by dragging a hand down his face. “Here I hoped we’d learned enough manners from Miss Debutante”—he jabbed a thumb in Lexi’s direction—“to avoid embarassin’ me.”

Lexi dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her pinky. “In our defense, Will and I had a head start on drinking this evening. The results from the fertility testing we underwent came in earlier today, and…” Her chin quivered. “It’s going to be a little tougher than we thought to get pregnant.”

Murph threw a hand over her chest, and her lower lip popped out in a sympathetic pout. “Oh, guys, I feel like an asshole. I’m voiding out that bet.” She bounced Tuck’s chip back to him, lunged across the table—paying no mind to the bags of chips and seven-layer bean dip—and pulled Lexi into a giant hug.

“After you’re done with her, I could use one,” Shep croaked, and Easton’s throat grew too tight. “Now that it’s out there, we might as well spill it all. It’s my fault.”

“No,” Lexi insisted, slinging an arm around her husband and adding him to the hug. “It’sus. While our bodies really like each other, Will’s sperm production is a tad low…” She aimed a watery yet reassuring smile his way. “And my immune system is fighting off what does get through like they’re invaders.”

Just like that, poker night detoured into heavy territory. Completely understandable, of course, but a lot to heap on Imogen compared to the fun, chill night with friends he’d promised.

“Do I know how to bring down a party or what?” Lexi plucked a napkin between her manicured fingernails and dabbed her tears and nose. She sniffed and stood, her knees knocking the table and rattling beer bottles. “I just need some fresh air and a few minutes to reset. Then I’ll come back, right as rain.”

The rest of the ladies stood—and in this instance that included Murph—and started after Lexi.

“I’m sorry,” Easton mouthed to Imogen.

“It’s okay,” she whispered in return, but her conflicted expression remained. She glanced from him, Shep, and Tucker to the retreating trio of women. “Do I…?”

“Go if you want.”

“I feel like I should,” Imogen said, and so he boosted her off his lap, careful as he assisted her around the table so she wouldn’t get any bumps or bruises.

The door banged closed after her, and then a heavy blanket of silence fell between him, Crawford, Maguire, and Shep.

“Time to check on the dogs?” Easton eventually suggested, and his buddies clung to the lifeline. It wasn’t that they didn’t talk about serious stuff—clearly, they did. More like…they weren’tgoodat it quite yet, as they’d spent decades trying to convey how “manly” they were, only to discover it was a poor descriptor for who someone was as a person.

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