almost looks afraid now too.
I shake off his hold because his fingers are digging in too tight. My eyes are still glued to Lucie. “She said it was fine.”
Jared makes a scoff in the back of his throat and shakes his head. “Word to the wise: the words it’s fine or don’t worry coming out of a woman’s mouth should terrify you to the very core. She said both of those. And the whole do what you want thing? You do not ever do what you want. That’s a trap.”
Oh, trap, not slap! That’s what he was mouthing. It’s a trap. That makes more sense.
Tim nods and steps to my other side. “Get over there and grovel, or she’ll be using your nutsack for a handbag before the night is over.”
Jared winces. “You know I speak Italian. You don’t even want to know the translation of what she said as she walked off. Let’s just say, it has something to do with your arse and a cactus.” He laughs and shoves me towards her so hard that I almost stumble.
As I stop at her side next to the bar, she doesn’t even turn to look at me as she speaks, “I can’t believe this. I really can’t believe I’m standing in a bar, surrounded by people glammed up in cocktail dresses, and I’m wearing a Wonder Woman outfit that’s two sizes too small. Why does this crap always happen to me? Honestly, I’m almost not even shocked.” Her shoulders slump, and she covers her face with her hands.
I lean against the bar next to her. “Stuff like this happens to me too. I usually just roll with it.” I wince, feeling awful. “I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot. I didn’t do this on purpose, I promise.”
“I know you didn’t.” She huffs a breath and turns to face me, her eyes raking down my body, and I notice the tiny twitch to the corners of her mouth. “At least you actually look pretty good,” she says grudgingly.
I raise one eyebrow. “You look better than pretty good.” That’s the truth. “You look amazing. I’m almost not even sorry I misunderstood the dress code. Seeing you in this is so worth the castration you’re liable to do to me because of this. You look phenomenal.”
She chews on her lip, her eyes meeting mine, and I want to do a celebratory jig when I see the hardness beginning to fade from them. She forgives me a little. “Yeah?”
I nod and step closer—as close as the Yoshi head sticking out a foot and a half in front of me will allow. “Definitely. Your costume is sick; your body is killer. You’re positively lethal tonight, Luce.”
She rolls her eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth now. “Keep the compliments coming,” she tells me, and as the barman stops in front of her, his eyes firmly fixed on the swell of cleavage spilling over the top of her sweetheart neckline, she holds up two fingers and tells him, “And keep the vodka shots coming. Two, please.”
I chuckle and lean in closer, so no one else can hear me. “Thank heavens I’m not wearing spandex, too, because my approval of your outfit would be clear for all to see.” I motion down to Yoshi. “His head is full of wood.”
She bursts out laughing and slaps my chest with her hand, but it’s playful and not vicious, so I take it as encouragement and keep going.
“Luce, you look like something out of my Comic Con fantasies. I’m literally—” I make the mind-blown hands next to my head with an explosion sound effect.
Her eyelashes flutter closed as she chews on her lip, a blush blooming on her cheeks. “You’re kind of good for my ego.”
Feeling brave, I reach out and touch the material of her skirt; it’s soft satin between my fingers. A groan escapes my lips. “This is the stuff wet dreams are made of.”
Lucie laughs and rolls her eyes, picking up one of the shots as the barman sets it down in front of her. She turns back to me and purses her lips. “Okay, rules. You do not leave my side the whole night. If I’m staying in costume, so are you. And let’s get absolutely rat-arsed to mollify this embarrassment.”
I nod in approval and signal the barman for two more shots as I pick up mine. “Solid plan. Here’s to a good night. Cheers.” I chink my glass against hers, and we