32. Samantha
Chapter thirty-two
Samantha
After Stan told me he was going to tell Lucas about us, I ‘ve been waiting with bated breath.
Imagine my shock when I received a call from Selena asking me to come with her.
At the bar, there are a bunch of other women present. Each of them tending to their partners, husbands, or boyfriends. The men are all sporting bruises and welts.
“Oh, you’re here,” Stan says casually when he sees us. He’s sporting a swollen cheek and bruised lip. Lucas is next to him, not looking much better.
“Hey, sweetie,” Lucas coos at Selena.
“You knucklehead!” Selena storms towards him and gives him a smack on the head. “You said you wouldn’t fight!”
“He started it,” Lucas whimpers, pointing to Stan.
“Shut up. I trained you better than this,” she says, putting his arm over her shoulder. “Really sorry about this, Stan.”
“It's fine. I'm good,” Stan says, waving her off, though he lets out a groan.
She nods, pulling Lucas with her out of the place, continuing to curse him out.
I squat next to Stan. “I guess he didn't take the news well? ”
“He did. In fact, he already knows I'm in love with you,” he chuckles.
I scowl. “Then why did you guys fight?”
“He beat me up for taking too long to tell you, and him,” he says with a shrug.
Yep. That’s Lucas.
I’ll give him another punch later.
“Alright, Mr. Holt. Let's go,” I sigh, slinking his arm over my shoulders.
“I'm so happy right now,” he says with a dreamy smile.
“Well, I'm not. Unless you work on your healing factor, you're going to end up in the lake like this. And then I can’t be your plus one.”
He leans toward me and kisses my cheek. “You'll figure something out as usual.”
***
It’s the next day. I was joking earlier about Stan’s healing factor, but he must be a reptile or something because his injuries are almost good as gone.
“How’d you heal so fast?” I ask, dumbfounded.
He puts his bag on the table. “My mom,” is all he says. Cryptic as ever, but I don’t ask any questions.
He stares at the wall he was painting. Thanks to me startling him, he made a mess. And after I gave him head, we went right to a quickie. I ended up knocking over the paint all over the floor.
“Yeah, that's not coming out anytime soon,” he groans as he inspects the floor.
“It would have never been there if you let a professional handle it. But no, you just had to fire the painter out of jealousy.”
“Well, if he wasn't drooling over you, he'd still be here.”
“Isn't drooling over me a good thing?”
“It is. It's so good that only I get to drool over you,” he says, his eyes boring into me.
The possessiveness of this man makes my heart do the splits and flips.
I change the topic. “How are we getting to the event? Which airline do you use? I need to book the tickets. ”
“I'm Holt. I don't book flights,” he says without skipping a beat.
I blink at him. “You have a private jet?”
He shrugs. “Be a good girl and I'll let you ride with me.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “I already ride you, so throw me a bone here.”
“Oh, I’ll throw you a boner , all right,” he says. He leans over my desk, kissing me breathless.
“Get a room or something,” Lucas announces his presence.
“Didn't your mother teach you how to knock?” Stan asks.
“She didn't, so I’ve learned that lesson three times the hard way,” Lucas says with a shudder.
My cousin's injuries are yet to heal properly. Somehow he seems to have more injuries than Stan.
“Why are you more bruised, Lucas?” I ask. “Stan overpowered you?” It's almost unbelievable, given Lucas’s bulky frame.
“Huh? Nah. Turns out some of the guys at the bar were kids I beat up when we were younger. They wanted a piece of me,” Lucas explains. “They were a good workout, though.” He winds up his right arm, smiling to himself for letting loose. “God, I feel so good right now.”
“What brings you here, then?” Stan asks. “Rematch?”
“Selena banned me from fighting again,” Lucas says with a sad look. He hands Stan a thermostat. “Selena says you should have this. If she asks, tell her I apologized to you.”
“Deal,” Stan grunts.
I love how their relationship is still the same. And how we were worried for nothing.
It's the day of the event .
I'm in Stan’s private jet. It still feels unreal that the gawky teenager I knew from years ago now owns one of these.
“You look as excited as Ruth was when she saw the plane,” he says as he pours me a glass of champagne.
“She's been on this?”
“Yeah. How did you think we went back to her city?” he says. “Silly kid,” he adds fondly.
“You two really had fun, didn't you?” I smile.
“We did. But we need to be back in time for Sunday. She’s having an end-of-the-year get-together with some school friends at my parents’ place, and I don’t want to miss it.”
I stifle a laugh because I can totally see Ruth giving him shit—while the entire Holt family hosts a party for her at their massive lake house.
The dress is… otherworldly. I feel like a glowing Greek goddess wrapped in dusty, pale pink silk. The neckline dives deep, and the fabric gathers at the waist, where it ties in a knot, the ends of the sash tumbling to the floor like waterfalls. It has long sleeves, but the wrist cuffs, dotted with round silk buttons, stretch high up my forearms.
The dress screams femininity, and the nude suede pumps with ankle straps and a bow over the toes don’t hurt either. I’m wearing simple gold hoops, and my hair is half up in loose waves. This dress needs nothing else.
I’ve never been this dressed up before.
“How much did this cost again?” I ask Stan.
We've arrived at Greenwood. We stopped at the hotel, and he had this dress in the room waiting for me.
“Don't know,” he shrugs. “Saw it and picked it for you. You don't like it?”
“I love it.”
“Good, don't ruin it. Or you'll get a spanking when we get back,” he warns .
“You saying that will only make me want to ruin it. You know that, right?”
“Try me.”
When we pull up in front of the lakefront resort, it’s brightly lit, with tall pillars and a grand entrance.
I feel like I should be working here, not attending an event. Well, I'm technically here to work as an assistant, but that’s just on paper.
I'm Stan’s plus-one. His woman.
I keep that thought to myself and just soak it in, leaning into the firmness of Stan’s strong body at my side, lending support.
The tips of his fingers graze my neck as he reaches across and pushes my loose hair behind my shoulder. His head inclines toward me. It feels a bit like that moment in the movies where Dracula is about to bite the girl, but there’s also something really horny going on.
“You ready?” he whispers against the shell of my ear before brushing his lips across the curve of my neck.
“Honestly, if this dress wasn’t so pretty, I’d tell you to take me back to that absurd suite overlooking the water and rip it off.”
He smiles against my neck. The way his lips quirk up and the light dusting of stubble on his face tickles my skin. “I can still do that, you know.”
I whip my head to him, giving his chest a little shove. “If you ruin this dress, I’ll break up with you.”
Break up.
My eyes widen. I feel like I just prematurely slapped a label on us.
I flush and turn away, scrambling out of the car before he can make fun of me. Although I do it to him all the time, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to handle him mocking me over this particular slipup.
The driver holds the door open, and Stan says nothing as he slides out behind me. He just presses his hand to the small of my back and guides us toward the red carpet near the entrance.