Rome snorted. “I’m guessing it’s the Kozlov bug. I hear they’re indigenous to Russia and are prone to cause bitchiness in the human male population.”
Everyone snickered.
Luka jabbed his thumb at his twin. “This one’s cracking jokes after only two beers”—he points at me—“and this one’s the one brooding into his drink. Is this some Freaky Friday shit or something?”
I rolled my eyes.
“So, what’s the story with that?” Bryce Connelly asked.
The detective might as well have been another brother of ours. He’d grown up with us and had been present for many Sunday lunches and holiday dinners. He also held the same principles as our family, and was always willing to help us out in a bind, so long as he didn’t betray his badge.
“With what?” I asked obtusely.
“Our new sister-in-law,” Ace threw out, using that term just to annoy me.
The guy had been staring at his phone all night—probably to avoid all the nipples and ass cheeks sauntering about—yet he decided to pay attention for this conversation?
“I’m curious, too,” he added, narrowing his eyes. “You haven’t pulled out a single dollar bill. Haven’t hit on a single dancer. And you sure as shit haven’t requested a private dance.” He smirked. “Lexi getting to you, man?”
I swallowed the rest of the Eagle Rare in my glass, savoring the burn as it lit up my throat. “Or maybe nothing here is catching my interest.”
“Not surprising,” Cris mused. “I think you’ve already slept with half the girls here.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
It was true, though. I had. And three of those girls had already approached me, offering a repeat of our one night together. I’d shut each one of them down as nicely as I could. The worst part? I couldn’t remember fucking a single one of them. Their faces were vaguely familiar, but beyond that? I’d come up empty.
The shame that accompanied that realization was new for me.
But why was I feeling guilty about having casual sex? I’d been a single guy at the time, free and unattached. Why should it matter what I’d done in the past? Although I had to admit, there was no way I could ever forget fucking Lexi. Not in a million years.
Which told me that she mattered, and those other women hadn’t.
“I’m going to have to disagree with you about finding nothing here of interest,” Luka murmured as his eyes tracked something across the room. “Because I’m seeing some fresh faces that are capturing one hundred percent of my attention.”
Out of curiosity, I glanced in the direction he was staring. A fit, olive-skinned woman with a petite frame, full breasts, and long, shiny raven hair was serving a group of younger guys. Her toothy smile as she gathered their empty beer bottles and placed them on her tray was polite, rather than overly flirtatious. In her tiny hot pants and microscopic crop top, she was a sight, I’d give him that.
But she had nothing on Lexi’s long legs and svelte shape.
Luka hadn’t removed his intent gaze from her. Matter of fact, he watched her move about the room for several minutes, only averting his eyes after she disappeared through the door to the kitchen. He caught my questioning gaze across our booth and cleared his throat uncomfortably.
Someone just got his hand caught in the cookie jar.
Then he shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “What can I say? Best tits in the house.”
I rolled my eyes again, cracking my neck. I needed Lexi’s magic fingers back on that knot. I swear, she was the only person who had ever been able to really loosen those muscles and work out the ever-present tension. Even better, she saw how relaxed it made me, so she’d been doing it every chance she got. In return, I’d been warming her cold feet with my hands.
“So, you were able to keep the secret from Jaz?” I asked Cris.
Staring off into space, he slowly nodded. “She has no idea. Thinks I moved the bachelor and bachelorette parties up because of something coming up in my schedule. As far as she knows, we’re still getting married in two months.” He turned to his long-time friend, Kade Jennings, who sat next to him. “Sam didn’t say anything to her?”
Kade hadn’t said much all night, seeming lost in his own thoughts. Every time I looked over at him, he was fidgeting with his hands or tapping his toe against the floor, acting tense and irritable. Like he was seriously stressing about something.