Fiancé by Friday

“An added bonus.”

“To a successful relationship,” Gwen said, clicking her cocktail to Karen’s.

“I can drink to that.” They sipped their drinks. “I can’t believe this is really happening.”

“Wait until you see his house.”

Karen smiled as she peered beyond Gwen. “Over here,” she said as she waved.

Eliza joined them, tossing her clutch on the table. “I wasn’t sure I’d find you in this zoo. Could they pack more people in here?”

“Probably.”

“It’s good to see you,” Eliza told Karen. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Not yet…but it is starting to look that way.”

Eliza flagged down a waitress and ordered a martini. “I see not a lot has changed,” she said after the waitress left.

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked.

“We’re sitting in a bar and your giant shadow is lurking in the back of the building.” Eliza tossed a peanut in her mouth.

“My shadow?”

Eliza looked to the right of the bar. “Yeah. The man who acts like you’re a job but can’t seem to leave you alone. If it was anyone other than Neil I’d be afraid he was a stalker.”

Gwen twisted around in her chair. Sure enough, perched at the edge of a seat on the far side of the bar, sat Neil.

“What’s he doing here?”

His eyes found hers for a brief moment before she looked away.

“I think that’s obvious.”

Her back teeth started to grind. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I don’t know, Gwen. The last time we sat in a bar I remember a certain someone getting drunk and a couple other someones getting into a fight.”

She’d never live that down. Gwen and Eliza went to blow off steam in a Texas bar. The cowboys were full of “yes, ma’am” and “howdy, darlin’.” They danced and carried on…and yes, she drank a little too much. When one of the cowboys mistakenly took her smile as an invitation for intimacy, Neil erupted from the bar to teach the cowboy the meaning of the word no.

It was the first time Neil had defended her honor, and though she hated to admit it, she got a kick out of how ticked off he became when another man looked at her. “That was last year.”

“What’s changed since then?”

Nothing! It didn’t matter how much she flirted with the man, or how obvious she was about her attraction. Neil didn’t bite.

“Everything.” Gwen stood, ready to put Neil in his place. “If you’ll both excuse me for a minute.”

She pushed her way through the crowd as if on a collision course with Neil. He kept his lips in a thin line as she approached and gripped the longneck bottle at his side.

Slipping between the woman on the stool next to him and Neil’s massive frame, Gwen slapped her hand on her hip and growled. “What are you doing here?”

He blinked, once, and picked up his beer. “Having a drink.”

She wanted to scream. “Having a drink,” she repeated.

He tilted the bottle back, took a swig.

“I know what you’re doing, Neil. And I don’t like it. I don’t want or need a bodyguard.”

“That’s debatable.”

If stomping her foot would knock some sense into him, she’d stomp better than a farm girl in a vineyard.

Poking a finger into his chest, she moved closer. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to have a love life with a two-hundred-thirty-pound bodybuilder standing in my way?”

A muscle in his jaw tightened. “Two hundred and fifty.”

“Ahhh!” She did scream now.

He lifted his beer again, but before he could take a swig, Gwen grabbed it from his fingers and tilted it back herself.

In a move that would make Eliza and Karen proud, she pushed the empty beer bottle back into his hand and slid between his thighs.

His jaw twitched again.

The strong musky scent that was pure Neil invaded her senses. She dropped one hand to his thigh and left it there. “This is how I see it, Neil. You have two choices. Either back off or step up.”

Gwen squeezed his thigh before vacating his personal space and marching back to the girls.

A satisfied smile stretched over her face.

Chapter Seven

What the f**k just happened?

Gwen’s shapely butt swayed back and forth as she worked her way back to her table.

He didn’t have time to process Gwen’s ultimatum before he heard someone calling him.

“Mac? Is that you?”

Neil froze. His name from the past caught in his throat, making him think twice before turning around.

He waved his empty beer to the bartender, hoping whoever called out wasn’t looking at him.

“MacBain?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Rick?” he said in shock. The last time he’d seen Rick…

Thick heat sealed in the scent of dirt, blood, and death. The Blackhawk carried what was left of his men to safety. Five of them made it out, and one of those would take his last breath before the chopper landed.

It was his fault.

Rick slammed his hand into Neil’s and pulled him into a man-hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

“You look good,” Neil managed, thankful the bartender was quick with his drink.

“You look angry as ever.” Rick “Smiley” Evans, Smiley to those in their unit because of the never-ending lips that smiled regardless of the sky falling around them, ordered a whiskey, and sat in the now vacant stool at Neil’s side.

“How long has it been?”

Neil glanced over Rick’s shoulder, noticed Gwen laughing.

“A few years.” Five years, eight months, and a handful of days.

Rick shifted in his seat. “That’s a tableful of trouble if I ever saw one. Friends of yours?”

Neil averted his gaze, and focused on his old colleague. The last thing he wanted to do was explain Gwen to Rick. Hell, he didn’t know how to explain Gwen to himself. “What are you doing in LA? I thought you didn’t like the West Coast.”

Rick took his drink in his hand and the smile he always wore fell.

A chill ran down Neil’s spine.

“I hate this plastic scene.”

“So why are you here?” Something told Neil he wasn’t going to like the answer.

Rick emptied his glass with one swallow. “Looking for you.”

Ah, f**k!

Rick dropped a twenty on the bar and stood. “Let’s find a quieter place.”