Dragon's Fake Wedding Date - Riley Storm Page 0,7

taut and unsure after the serious conversations they’d been having.

They need a break. To think about something else.

“It’s not my fault that women find me irresistible,” he said, preening dramatically over himself.

Everyone laughed again, and it was much more relaxed this time as they fell back into their usual routines: everyone picking on Rann for being a shameless flirt while Trent and Pietro tried to convince him of the joys of being mated. Kladd would observe his team, while Jacen and Iro would snicker and lean their heads together, talking about something else entirely. It was routine, and it was relaxing.

“One of these days, you’ll find a mate,” Trent said, clapping him on the shoulder across the table. “And you’ll realize then that that’s all you’ve truly been looking for. One person who gets you on a level so deep, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before.”

Rann looked around the table with a knowing grin, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Usually it’s them who get me on a deeper level than they’ve experienced before, if you know what I mean.”

Even Trent couldn’t help but roar with laughter at the ridiculous comment, even as he shook his head in disagreement.

“Everything is better with a mate,” Pietro said as the laughter died. “You’ll see eventually.”

“Mate-schmate,” Rann said, blowing them off. “I don’t need a mate. I just like mat-ing.”

More laughter, interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

Rann turned to see who it was, a sly grin still on his face.

He took in the short redhead peering nervously through the partially opened door, and his entire world came to a screeching halt, searing that first image of her into his mind forever.

Chapter Five

Gayle

She peered in through the door nervously, unsure of whether or not to proceed.

Gayle hadn’t been to this bar before, not since it had been bought and renamed The Dragon’s Eye, at least. She’d wanted to come check it out before, but apparently her boyfriend had been banned from it.

Ex-boyfriend. Gayle had to remind herself of the change in their status. She had no boyfriend anymore. Or best friend, for that matter.

At least I have other friends. Maybe one of them can ascend to best friend status.

Regardless of her lack of familiarity with the bar, it seemed like the best place for her to go for a drink. She certainly wasn’t going to venture over to Climbers or Peaks Pub, where she was far more likely to run into her ex-boyfriend and his new girl. She didn’t need that.

Her eyes roamed around the inside. It was rather sparsely populated for a Friday evening, she noted, wondering where everyone was. Or perhaps it was always like this? Groups of men and the odd woman randomly spaced out across the tables and booths.

She started to look over at the bartender when a man sitting at one of the booths caught her eye. He was staring back at her, and Gayle had to fight to recover her breath as their eyes met.

He’s gorgeous.

The dimly lit interior of the bar made it hard for her to make out much more than his hard jaw, long flowing hair that fell forward of his shoulders, and his eyes. Beautiful pools of deep jade that threatened to pull her deep into their abyssal depths, forever lost.

A pain in her chest reminded her of the need to breathe, and Gayle sucked in a sharp breath, the action breaking the eye contact whilst simultaneously sending a shiver racing down her spine at the simple memory of the moment.

Whoa. Down girl.

Forcing herself to look away, Gayle made eye contact with the bartender, a lovely woman with black hair, standing next to a huge specimen of masculinity. While he was undeniably attractive, Gayle’s eyes spent little time on him. Eye candy, nothing more.

“Excuse me,” she called across the open bar, stepping just a little farther inside.

“Can I help you?” the bartender asked with genuine sincerity, immediately warming Gayle to the entire establishment.

“Um, maybe. Do you happen to know if someone named Mike Kostwick is banned from here?” she asked cautiously.

The bartender frowned, while the mountain of muscle next to her gave an Atlas-like shrug.

“Um, Mikey the Plumber, maybe?” she said, using the nickname.

The reaction was immediate and visceral. The male next to the bartender surged forward, eyes lighting up with amber fury as he moved to put himself between the door and the bartender in a move that could be defined as nothing other than protective. At the same time his