Page 53 of Gamble
“Fine… let’s go to brunch, but this time I’m paying.”
Elijah’s hand on her ass left only long enough to be able to slap her bottom. “I think I’ve made it very clear that you aren’t paying a dime this weekend. It’s my treat, and that includesbrunch. Now, let’s get the last of our things packed up. I’ll text Kent and tell him to save us two seats.”
“Holy shit, you weren’t exaggerating.”
The outburst had come from a rugged-looking man sitting in the large booth the hostess had led them to. The guy ogling her looked to be about the same age as Elijah and was presently sporting a wolfish grin that made her feel beautiful.
Elijah’s soft caress on the bare skin of her lower back calmed her nerves at meeting a table full of complete strangers.
“I knew you assholes didn’t believe me,” Elijah offered in the way of a hello. “I expect you to be on your best behavior.”
A young bodybuilder looking man countered quickly. “We’re always on our best behavior. I have to admit, I thought you were just trying to ditch us last night because we’d kept you out too late the night before, old man.”
Before she could consider the implications, Reagan chose to throw back a response. “Oh, I can assure you, Elijah isn’t that old, and he’s definitely not afraid of staying up late.”
She could feel the blush creeping into her cheeks just as the entire table of men burst out laughing, congratulating the birthday boy on his ‘late night.’
Embarrassed, Reagan leaned into Elijah’s embrace, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
“Hey, don’t you dare get self-conscious on me,” he whispered in her ear. “We haven’t done anything to be ashamed of, baby.”
While his words bolstered her, she still had trouble looking back at the men crammed into the cafe’s booth. She reluctantly let go of Elijah as he turned to grab two unused chairs from nearby tables, pulling them up to the end of the table.
“You folks need coffee?” The question came from the seasoned waitress who’d snuck behind them as they took their seats.
Reagan and Elijah answered, “Yes,” in unison, and the group of men launched into a rousing conversation about all the adventures they’d each gone on the day before. Even having never met any of them, she noticed how the younger men in the group clearly looked up to Elijah.
“So, you went back for a visit to High Roller, eh? Guessing you didn’t dive off from the top like you did last time I was in town with you,” the man whose name she now knew was Kent asked.
“Naw, I had much better company with me this time.” Elijah squeezed her shoulder where he’d wrapped his arm possessively across the back of her chair. “I wasn’t in a big hurry to get away from Reagan like I was with you assholes last time I was in town.”
The good-natured conversation flowed easily, making it easy to forget she barely knew any of the men around the table. Listening to Elijah interacting with his friends made her realize how completely different he was from literally every other man she’d ever dated. Despite, or maybe because of, his age, he carried himself with a confidence… an almost dominance that was sexy as hell.
When the waitress returned, Reagan placed her order for the breakfast she’d be having if she were with Tristan. “I’ll have a yogurt parfait with berries and granola,” she ordered without even opening the menu.
Elijah’s hand had moved into her lap and was now squeezing her thigh as he added, “I’ll have the ham and cheese omelet, and could you also bring a big stack of pancakes for me to share with my companion.”
Reagan protested. “I don’t need pancakes.”
“I beg to differ. You’ve burned a lot of calories in the last twenty-four hours. We need to keep you well fed.”
She could feel her cheeks warming from the blush consuming her as the men gave her and Elijah a good-natured ribbing.
The angry, “What the fuck are you doing touching my girlfriend, you dirty old man,” hit her ears just as Reagan felt herself being forcibly yanked out of her chair and directly into Tristan’s arms. The scent of his heavy cologne was instantly overwhelming, barely covering the lingering stench of cigarette smoke still clinging to him from his hours in the casino.
Before she could even say a word, all the men she’d been having breakfast with were on their feet, circling around her and Tristan while she felt Elijah’s hands on her waist, physically yanking her back against his chest and out of Tristan’s embrace.
“What the fuck?” Tristan complained, his voice an octave higher than normal. He struggled to retain his grip on her arms right up until she could see the tendril of fear in his eyes. That’s when he relinquished his hold on her, allowing her to fall fully into Elijah’s arms.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her ex-boyfriend’s annoying friends taking several steps back, unwilling to come to Tristan’s aid.
“This will just take a moment, baby.” Elijah’s strong voice in her ear calmed her.
Obviously hearing, Tristan’s eyes widened, his gaze flittering between her own and Elijah’s. “What’s going on here? Who are these old geezers and why the hell is one of them groping you as if he had the right to touch my woman?”
A short bark of laughter was the only warning Tristan had before Elijah released her and lunged forward with the deadly stealth of a predator. Within seconds, Elijah had Tristan by the scruff of his shirt, easily lifting him up onto his toes while leaning in until only a few inches separated the men’s faces.
“Listen here, you piece of shit, you can call me any lame names that might make you feel better about your pathetic existence, but don’t you ever touch so much as a hair on Reagan’s head ever again. You got that?”
