Page 30 of The Proposal
“Yeah, about that,” Brock says, returning to our conversation. He looks at his girlfriend, then at me. “Whatwereyou two planning?”
“You wanna tell him, El?” I ask, teasing her. “You said you wanted him to know.”
Her face flushes. “I was mad at him then.”
Brock’s jaw sets. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have a feeling you might be revisiting that emotion soon, El,” Renn says, then downs the rest of his drink.
“What was it, Ella?” Brock asks, unamused. “Let me know what you planned on doing when you were mad at me.”
“You know what? I don’t care.Youwent to Miami and did who knows whatwith Renn,” Ella says, sitting taller.
Renn gasps. “I’m offended.”
“Shut up.” Ella gathers herself, setting her attention squarely on my brother. “We had plans to see a bunch of ripped, oily men take their clothes off.” She leans closer. “And I was really looking forward to it.”
Renn bursts out laughing.
“Me too,” I say, taking my drink from Gerald. “Thank you, buddy.”
Gerald tries not to laugh. “You’re very welcome.” He places Renn’s drink in front of him. “There you go, sir.”
“I won’t make this awkward and call you buddy,” Renn says, getting a full-bellied laugh from our server. “But thank you. Also, please bring the check to me.”
“Of course.”
Ella takes a small sip of her drink, looking expectantly at Brock. “If you have something to say,say it.”
Renn and I hold our drinks and air toast, settling in for the show.
Ella and Brock banter back and forth, their voices sharp yet hushed. It’s impossible on a good day to follow along when they’re like this. But I don't bother trying after the two tequila drinks I’ve already consumed—two more than usual. Instead, I swirl my beverage around the glass and watch Renn across the table. Damn, he’s gorgeous. His black shirt makes his hair appear darker and his eyes more mysterious.His lips more kissable.
My heartbeat quickens. A welcome warmth spreads like a full-body blush, eventually pooling the heat between my legs. My shoulders fall, giving up any tension still in them, and I sigh happily.Maybe I should drink tequila more often.
Renn sets his glass on the table, his brows pulling together. “You good, Blakely?”
“Yeah.I’m great.” I smile from ear to ear. “Nice and relaxed.”
We exchange a grin that amplifies the fire in my veins.
“Are you two about ready to head back to the room?” Brock asks, intruding into our moment.
I snort. “I’m not leaving this drink. There’s one hundred fifty dollars’ worth of alcohol in here. Besides, tonight is supposed to be fun. Remember?”
“Well, your brother put an end to that,” Ella says, giggling as Brock grabs her thigh. “Or maybe not.”
“You want a show? Let’s buy a bottle of oil on the way to the room,” Brock tells her. “I’ll give you a fucking show.”
Ella grins back at him. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
“What’s that gonna do for me?” I ask, quickly lowering my voice. “It’s alwaysElla, Ella, Ella. It’smyfreaking birthday.”
Renn smirks. “We’ll buy a bottle of oil too. Don’t worry.”
Count. Me. In.
“The hell you will,” Brock says before downing the rest of his drink and setting it down with a thud. “All three of you are giving me a fucking headache.”
