Page 4 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
Ugh. I didnotrelish the idea of going back to face all my co-workers and friends who hadn’t gotten the word yet about my canceled wedding.
But I would. Because I had to.
What was the alternative? Spending my honeymoon here alone? Maddie and Joehadto go back home—they both had work, and Trina had school. Mom and David were scheduled to go off on an excursion to the Acropolis tomorrow, not that I’d want to spend my un-honeymoon tagging along with them.
“What you need now is a hot bath and a good night’s sleep,” Maddie said.
“What I need is another drink.” I raised my hand to get the attention of the young bartender who was looking more and more like Tom Cruise as the hours—and colorful drinks—accumulated.
He nodded at me and started mixing a replacement for my empty glass.
“Or maybe a lobotomy so I can’t think about it anymore,” I added.
“Or… a night with one ofthoseguys,” Maddie said with waggling eyebrows. “I’ll bet you wouldn’t even remember Bryce’s name in the morning.”
I followed my sister’s pointed gaze to a group of guys on the other side of the bar. They were boisterous and loud as if maybe they’d started the party elsewhere and this was just one of many stops along their pub crawl tonight.
Every one of them was jacked, like bodybuilders—but then, no, they weren’t puffed up and slickly styled.
Rather they were tough looking, their sinewy strength the kind that resulted from manual labor or old-fashioned bodyweight exercises. Several of them were tatted up.
“Don’t be ridiculous. The last thing I’m interested in right now is men. You don’t cure a hangover with more alcohol.”
“Um… have you never heard of ‘hair of the dog that bit you?’” she asked.
“I’m not interested in dog hair, horsehair, or sexily scruffy dark hair with a golden auburn streak,” I said, checking out the attractive guy at the very end of the bar. He didn’t appear to be drinking like the rest of his posse. “And I’mdefinitelynot interested in a military guy.”
“You think they’re military?” she asked, studying them more closely now. “What’s wrong with that?”
“My dad was a SEAL, remember? Ninety percent divorce rate?”
“Oh right. But how do you know these guys are military?”
“Don’t stare at them,” I hissed. “They’ll take it as an invitation.”
She grinned, talking through her teeth like a ventriloquist. “Too late. Incoming hottie alert. Look alive, soldier.”
“Well, hello,” the shortest of the guys said, flashing a brilliant smile at Maddie as he and his friends moved to our side of the bar.
His smile dimmed a bit, and his tone turned more respectful when he looked down and spotted her pregnant belly. “…ma’am,” he added belatedly.
“Hi guys,” she said. “I’m Madelyn. This is my sister—”
“No names,” I interrupted.
One of the tattooed guys laughed. He was dark-haired and tall with piercing hazel eyes. “Why? Are you two on secret assignment?”
“Are you?” I snapped.
His grin widened. “Of course. But I’ll tell you my nickname ‘cause I know we can trust you. It’s Wildman.”
“The wild man,” one of his friends echoed, raising his glass. The other guys raised theirs as well, bumping plastic cups and sloshing beer onto the counter.
Tom Cruise immediately swiped the spills with his bar towel.
“This is Badger,” Wildman said, indicating the short guy who’d said hello first. “And this is Gandalf, Sharkbait, Volt, and the ugly one over there is Wolf.”
Wildman hooked a thumb toward the hot guy I’d noticed earlier at the end of the bar.
