Her face went hot. No way would she tell him how the L word had taken out her knees, or how the brief touch of his hot tongue had started a slow burn inappropriate to the situation.
A wicked gleam entered his eyes. “I’ve heard it all before, you know. Done it, too. You won’t shock me.”
Mute, she shook her head.
“That good, huh? Damn, girl, you know how to pique the interest. And I’m betting whatever I imagine is going to be more explicit than the truth.”
When Denver laughed, they both turned to see Cherry now sitting in his lap. That didn’t, however, keep her from enjoying some playful, suggestive banter with all the guys.
Cherry really was a world-class flirt, Yvette thought. Maybe she should take lessons. That way, instead of freezing up when Cannon teased her, she could tease right back.
Another hour passed without Cannon making it back to them. Between serving drinks, he signed autographs and posed with fans. One guy didn’t like how his date ogled Cannon. Already drunk and obviously stupid, he tried to challenge him, but Cannon laughed it off, ducking out of reach of a wild haymaker thrown at his face.
Rowdy escorted out both the man and his protesting lady friend.
Not being much of a drinker, Yvette was only on her third—was it her third? anyway, another—glass of wine when she noticed Armie looking beyond her, his interest blatant. Expecting to see Merissa, she followed his gaze and spotted Mindi.
Instead of her business suits, the lawyer’s assistant had changed into a sleeveless, body-hugging dress and strappy sandals. Her blond hair hung loose in soft curls. Their gazes met. Yvette wanted to look away, but for some reason couldn’t.
After smiling and nodding, Mindi zeroed in on Cannon. Her eyes narrowed with sensual intent, a satisfied smile lifting just the corners of her shiny lips.
Every guy at her table noticed Mindi, so Yvette could only assume that Cannon found her attractive, as well. And why not? Regardless of Mindi’s uncharitable personality, Yvette had to admit that Mindi looked amazing.
She now regretted wearing her SBC T-shirt with Cannon on the front over skinny cropped jeans and flat sandals. She’d been thinking only of supporting him, having fun and being comfortable.
She should have worn her own sexy dress, damn it. But...that just wasn’t her. And why should she try that hard anyway? She didn’t want or need to compete with Mindi. Hadn’t she made a promise to herself to be independent and courageous? That included standing up for herself.
She drained the glass, put it on the table and rose from her seat. “I’m going to squeeze up front a little.”
One arm around Cherry, Denver toasted her with his beer. “Go get ’em, Yvette.”
She glared at Armie. “Why is he drinking if you and Cannon aren’t?” Stack had tossed back a couple of longnecks, too, as had most of the men there.
He came to his feet with her. “Cannon rarely does, but he definitely wouldn’t while working, right? And since I have a fight in three weeks, I’m the driver stuck with getting the other lushes home safe.”
Way to drop a bombshell! She leaned against the table. “You’re fighting? Since when?”
He looked self-conscious. “Since...I don’t know. A couple of months ago?”
She pushed his shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I just did.”
“Armie doesn’t like any fanfare,” Denver offered helpfully.
“Keeps it to himself,” Stack added, then made a “shh” sound with his finger to his mouth. “Don’t tell. Wouldn’t want anyone to notice, you know.”
Yvette wondered if that had anything to do with his past. “Where?”
“Where what?”
She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Where are you fighting?”
“Just a local venue. No big deal.”
Of course it was, more so now that she knew he kept secrets. “I want to watch.”
He rolled one shoulder as if it didn’t matter, but then rubbed his neck uncomfortably. “Fine. Whatever. Cannon will be there. Grab a ride with him if you want.”
“I wasn’t asking permission.” She softened, patted his chest, then remembered that Mindi was closing in on Cannon. “Later.”
He snagged the back of her shirt, bringing her back around.
She was a little more wobbly than she should have been and bounced into him.
He steadied her, then frowned. “Why the rush?”
Smacking his hands away, she glared at him.
Armie just quirked a brow in that “what?” way of his.
So why not tell him? Maybe it was the wine making her feel more open, but she liked Armie, felt comfortable with him as a friend. And he could give great insight on Cannon.
“That blonde you were eyeballing?”
“The chesty one struttin’ her stuff?”
She did strut, damn her. “Were you eyeballing any others?”
“Pretty much all of them, hon.”
That threw her, but only for a second. “She works for the lawyer who handled my grandfather’s estate, and she’s made it clear she’s after Cannon.”
With an exaggerated eye roll, Armie took her arm and started with her toward the bar. “Are you drunk?”
“A teeny-tiny bit tipsy.” She leaned in to confide, “I never drink.”
“No? Seriously?”
Was he being facetious? “Vanity says I can’t hold my liquor. She’s my friend.”