9. Duncan
Chapter Nine
Duncan
R eturning to the hotel after visiting the restaurant was significantly more eventful than our initial arrival.
Raquel and Hamish preceded Rune and me—walking a bit apart, the air between us a bit tense—into the lobby, and were immediately greeted by a cacophony of wedding attendees swarming them.
Rune was swept up in the mayhem since these were her friends as well, leaving me standing awkwardly alone at the outer edge of the fray, watching with bemusement as fifty-some people all tried to hug and back-clap and air-kiss each other all at once.
Most of the attention was on Raquel and Hamish, naturally enough—they couldn't move for the crush of humans all trying to get to them.
I noticed, however, that once the appropriate greetings and congratulations had been extended to the happy couple, Rune was the next stop—every direction she turned saw her hugging someone, laughing, answering questions, and trying to extricate herself from one conversation only to be dragged into another.
There was one anomaly in the scene: a pretty-boy, preppy nerd type dude standing by himself off to one side, his eyes glued to Rune as she lit up the lobby with her charismatic presence, her bell-like laugh ringing clarion-clear throughout the lobby, sapphire eyes bright and joyful, ink-black, stormcloud hair a thick, plaited cascade over one shoulder.
He was about six feet tall and lean—a distance runner build—with sandy blond hair carefully coiffed in a less classy version of Uncle Brock's neat, classic side-part.
He was clean shaven, with a weak jaw and an expression of sour longing that curdled my stomach.
As I watched him watch Rune, the sour longing went briefly bitter and angry and jealous: she was hugging a tall, built Black guy who I assumed was Raquel's brother—he resembled her pretty obviously, for one thing.
I could only snort to myself in cruel amusement though—it was obvious enough to me, someone with pretty real feelings for Rune, that her relationship with Raquel's brother was platonic and brotherly. Yet the preppy dick-waffle was jealous.
I couldn't help myself. I sidled over toward where Rune's ex was wallflowering, endeavoring to appear casual and unassuming.
Hayes noted me idly and dismissed me immediately—he didn't know me, didn't recognize me, and so I wasn't worth his attention.
I pretended to follow his obvious stare for the first time.
"Wow, she's hot, huh?" I said, pitching my voice low, conspiratorial. "That ass, amiright?"
He shot me an annoyed look. "Huh? You talking to me?"
I jutted my chin at Rune, who was clutching Raquel's brother's hand with obvious affection, listening as he related a story that had Rune cackling. "Her, with the black hair and blue eyes. Rain, I think her name is?"
What was I doing? Why was I fucking with this tool?
Because he was a tool, that's why. Also, I didn't like the way he was looking at Rune.
"Rune," he muttered. "Her name is Rune."
"Ah, right." I hesitated. "You friends with her?"
He shot me a glance that said he'd rather eat a live cockroach than have this conversation with me. "You could say that."
"Maybe you could introduce me, then."
He turned to face me fully, then, angry. "Do I know you, bro?"
I opened my mouth to answer—I wasn't even sure myself what was about to come out of my mouth—when Rune happened to glance this way and saw Hayes and me standing near each other. Her features went slack at first, and then raw, naked fury suffused her expression. She met my eyes, confused.
I winked at her, and then turned to Hayes. "Wow, she really doesn't like you, does she?"
He opened his mouth to answer, clicked his jaw shut, tried again. "Fuck you," he managed, eventually.
I snickered. "Hey, man, I’m just observing, here. You do know her, don't you?"
The douche-turd’s face went through a series of emotions, most of them a form of embarrassed anger. "Used to. Now, if you don't mind, I see someone I'd like to talk to."
"It's probably not Rune, I'm guessing," I said. "Going off the way she looked at you just now."
He whirled on me mid-step. "You got something to say to me, bro?"
I just laughed—this skinny little punk was about as much of a threat to me as a wet kitten. "If I did, I'd say it… bro .”
I pushed past him, "accidentally" bumping him with my shoulder—I was more than half hoping he'd try something just so I could break his sad sack of shit jaw. He didn't, though, more's the pity. I felt his angry glare on my back, but he didn't otherwise do or say anything.
I beelined through the scrum of people to Rune, knowing he was watching. I stepped right into her space. "Play along," I murmured, giving her a mischievous grin.
"Play along with what?" she answered, keeping her face carefully neutral.
"This." I grabbed her by the hips and yanked her flush against me; she gasped in shock at the move, stiff at first, and then she melted against me.
I cupped her face in one hand, tilted her mouth to mine, and kissed the everloving fuck out of her. All tongue, no chill.
She whimpered into the kiss, momentarily forgetting our surroundings as our natural chemistry took over. Shit, I lost track of everything myself as she stabbed her tongue into my mouth and shoved her chest against mine, rubbed her pussy against my thigh, and stole her hands into my hair.
She was the one to come to her senses first, yanking free with a shake of her head, stepping back and dragging her wrist across her mouth. "What the hell was that, Duncan?"
"Check out your ex before you lay into me," I said.
Her gaze flicked over my shoulder, and I knew my ploy had had an effect. She bit her lower lip in an attempt to not burst into laughter. "Oh. Oh god."
"That was gloriously done, sir," I heard a woman's voice say from my left elbow.
"I applaud you. Bravo, bravo." She even clapped; the speaker, except for having white-blond hair, could have been Rune's twin sister—their facial structure was damn near identical, as was the shade of their sapphire eyes. "You must be Duncan Badd."
I extended my hand to her. "I am. I'm guessing you're Lindsey, the best friend?"
"Yup." She covered her mouth with one hand, spluttering a laugh, and then shook my hand. "Oh man, he big mad."
If looks could kill, I'd be dead—Hayes was glaring daggers at me from across the room; hate wouldn't be too far from the truth.
Rune, however, was looking at me, not Hayes, two fingers pressed to her lips. She looked like she was about to say something to me, but someone tapped her on the shoulder, and the moment was gone.
Lindsey leaned close to me, murmuring so only I could hear her. "How's it going with her?"
"No idea what you mean," I said.
"That was a hell of a kiss," Lindsey said. "She was shooketh."
"Things are weird," I admitted.
"She's a tough nut to crack," Lindsey said, watching Rune navigate three different conversations at once. "Her luck with men hasn't been the best."
"So she said."
"She likes you."
I sighed. "Maybe. But she's going back to LA. Once this wedding is done, that's it. She's established pretty clear boundaries."
Lindsey shrugged. "There are ways around that boundary."
"No, there's not." When she looked at me with an arched eyebrow, I shrugged back at her. "She set a boundary. Whatever this is between us, it's over when the wedding is over. She's clear on that. Trying to fight it isn't going to get me anywhere."
"I've never seen her react like that. To anyone, ever, let alone from a public kiss." She looked at me. "There's something there."
"Maybe there is," I said. "But there's no point in thinking about it."
She looked at me with disgust. "And you're just…giving up?"
I stared back at her. "Sorry, but I was raised to respect the boundaries a woman establishes. She's acknowledged there could be more, but she’s also made it extremely clear that's not happening."
Lindsey sighed, a frustrated sound of resignation. "She doesn’t know what she wants. She's run as far as she can for as long as she can from the damage that turd-sucker Hayes Motherfucking Willoughby did to her, and now she's going back to what's familiar."
"I get that," I said, "But I can't make her want something. We’ve known each other barely a week. Sure, there's killer fucking chemistry, but it takes more than that."
"Well, I'm not giving up. It takes a lot to shake Rune, and I'm telling you she's all shook up from that kiss." Lindsey patted me on the bicep, paused, frowned at my arm, and then blatantly felt up my bicep. "Damn, son. You got a permit for those guns?"
I snorted, pulling my arm out of her grip. "Okay, we're good."
"Oh, relax. She's my BFF, I'd never poach her man. I'm just appreciating a nice set of arms."
"I'm not her man."
"You could be, if you had balls." She cackled. “I’m kidding, I'm kidding. Jesus, relax. You're so wound up, Duncan."
I blinked at her. "You're a lot, you know that?"
She nodded seriously. "I do know. Trust me. There's a reason I’m single. Being a mouthy, sarcastic, know-it-all, pain in the ass is that reason, to be clear."
I laughed. "You'd get along great with my sisters."
"I would. Why?"
"Because they're both mouthy, sarcastic, know-it-all pains in the ass."
"And they're both still single?"
"Nope. Delia is married to Hunter Hawkins. Emerson is married to a computer programmer who gives serious Clark Kent vibes."
"Excuse me?” She turned slowly to face me. “Sorry, sorry, but it sounded like you said your sister is married to Hunter Hawkins ?"
"That is what I said, yes."
She blinked up at me. "Pardon me, but the fuck you say."
I laughed. "It's true. He tried a corporate takeover of our family business a few years ago."
"Tried?"
I shrugged. "He ended up marrying into the family, funding the revamp of the restaurant Raquel and Hamish are getting married at tomorrow, and now they have a kid together."