Elias
I can’t think of anything worse than being dressed in anything other than sweatpants on a Sunday, and the fact I’m covered head to toe in my finest suit should be a crime.
I can’t stay too mad, though, as the only reason I’m doing this is for my brother.
His company is hosting a charity event for the pediatric unit at the local hospital, and I’d be a real asshole if I complained about that.
The success of his business shows as we enter the Fairmont Hotel.
There are already well over a hundred people spread around the room, all poised and posing with their champagne flutes as they talk amongst themselves.
Employees and their significant others mingle with other couples, everyone getting to know each other or catching up.
I mainly work on the sidelines as Oscar’s CFO and rarely come face-to-face with any of my brother’s employees, but there are a few people I recognize, like Paul, the CMO, and his wife, Hayley.
Oscar and Isobel stand with them, the four of them deep in conversation, and I feel a warmth spread through my chest as my future sister-in-law looks up at my brother with hearts in her eyes. He looks down at her and places a hand on her bump.
The bar is the most appealing part of this whole thing, and I find myself drifting toward it, eager to escape small talk with anyone.
There are a few men already here, most likely significant others of employees, talking with each other, laughing obnoxiously every now and then.
As soon as a bartender stops in front of me, I order myself a whiskey and turn to stand at the end of the bar to take a look around.
Avery would love an event like this. A reason to play dress up and chat people up at the bar. While my brother did invite our cousins, both of them had prior commitments, but Avery made it very clear she’d much rather be here than with her friends, though.
I use the word “friends” loosely. Honestly, they suck, or so I hear. Every time I see my cousin, she’s always upset by something they’ve done, and every time I try to offer my two cents and tell her to move on, she snaps and says it’s hard to cut off friendships that have lasted most of her life.
I’ve been quite lucky on the friendship front as having my brother as my best friend has saved me a lot of heartache with friendships throughout my youth.
Aside from Oscar and Zac, I have one other best friend who I’ve known since my brother met him at university.
And although he isn’t someone I get to see all the time, he’s just as important.
Reeve is the most laidback, easygoing, and down to earth guy I’ve ever met in my life.
I was bummed when he moved to Prince George a few years after he graduated to help with the wildfires.
But he’s wanted to be a firefighter for as long as I’ve known him, and even when his parents forced him to go to university to study economics, he never let his true passion die down.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts as my eyes snag on a blonde woman weaving through the crowd like she’d rather be anywhere else but here, and I smirk.
We’ve got something in common. I let my eyes wander down her petite frame and I fight the groan that threatens to fall from my lips.
Curves upon curves are covered in the softest looking fabric that has me itching to ball it up into my fist and expose more of that creamy thigh that’s peeking out from the slit going up her left leg.
It’s not until she looks to the side that I feel like I know her. But from where, I can’t place. She’s not someone I’ve hooked up with recently, because, boy, I would remember her. I wrack my brain, thinking where I might’ve met her, and then it dawns on me—she’s the woman from the club.
She looks different today, though, so much so that I almost didn’t recognize her, her blonde hair looks shinier somehow under the white lighting and falling down her back in soft waves.
Her piercing baby blues are framed with thick lashes and her round lips are painted a deep ruby red, and I hate the way my head instantly visualizes the way those lips would look wrapped around my dick.
I clear my throat at the thought, and shift slightly as the front of my slacks start to grow tight.
She reaches the bar and lets out a deep and relaxed sigh, only to tense up again when some guy strides up to her with a cocky smirk, and I find myself standing up straighter.
I linger for a short while and listen as she talks to him through gritted teeth.
It’s obvious that she has no interest in talking to him, but he doesn’t take the hint and keeps looking at her with a leering glance.
I don’t miss the way his eyes stay glued to her chest, despite the gold band on his ring finger.
Asshole.
I take a few slow steps forward and catch the tail end of what she’s saying. “Meeting my fiancé was such a blessing, and you know how the saying goes, you have to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince.”
A little smirk pinches at the corners of my mouth as I see the way the dickhead in front of her narrows his eyes in anger. “Is that so? He must work here then, for you to be attending.”
She says nothing, and I wait for her to speak up, but her shoulders grow tense the more the silence grows.
She doesn’t know anyone here other than her fiancé who can help her out; that much is obvious from the way her stance becomes guarded.
I can’t help but feel the urge to jump in and save her from this prick, even if that means I might have to take a fist to the face from her actual fiancé.
The blonde then hums softly as if the mere thought of interacting with him bored her. “That’s right.” She looks around, probably for her fiancé, before waving a hand dismissively. “He’s around here somewhere. Most likely schmoozing with other businessmen, you know what it’s like.”
I don’t catch what he says to her in the time it takes for me to move closer and stand behind her. What the fuck am I doing? I slip my hand around her waist and gently pull her into my side and look at the stunned man in front of me with a smirk.
Dick.
I look down at the woman tucked into me. “There you are,” I say as I lean down toward her and gently give her side a squeeze, my lips brushing the tip of her ear. “I thought I’d lost you, baby.”
The hairs on her arms stand up as she slowly turns to face me with a calm, yet slightly panicked, expression on her face before recognition flashes through her eyes.
I don’t wait for her to reply as I look back at the man stood in front of us with his mouth hanging open.
I hold my hand out and plaster on the widest grin onto my face.
“Hey, man, I’m Elias,” I say, watching as his shaky hand clasps around my own and I make sure to squeeze it extra hard. “I hope you’re not hitting on my girl here. I know she’s an absolute smoke-show and since her ring is getting resized, I’ve been batting men off left, right, and centre.”
His face turns pink and blotchy, and I feel the way he pulls his now clammy hand back from mine and wipes it down the front of his navy pinstripe slacks. “I’m Tom, uh, I’m Bridget’s…uh—”
“Ex-boyfriend,” she replies, her head tilting to the side, and I bite the inside of my mouth to prevent a smirk appearing as she soaks up his discomfort.
I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth and whistle.
“Man, I suppose I’ve got to thank you, really, because only a fucking idiot would let a woman like this go.
And if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t get to call her mine.
” I press a kiss to her temple and wink. “So, thanks, man, appreciate it.”
Tom nods slowly. “You’re welcome?” he says, but it sounds more like a question. “How did the two of you meet?”
I clear my throat and pinch her side. “Go ahead and tell him, baby. You know you always tell the story the best.”
Bridget chuckles nervously. “Oh, if you insist…” Tom watches her, expectantly.
“Natalie hosted a small dinner party about six months ago, not too long after Christmas, to celebrate her promotion, and Elias was there. Natalie introduced us and we hit it off right away. Turns out, we have a lot more in common than we thought, and the next thing we know, we’re going on dates and spending all our time together. ”
“Six months? That’s pretty fast, don’t you think?” Tom asks, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass.
I shrug. “I didn’t see the point in waiting—I already knew she was the one.” Before Tom can answer, I finish the last sips of my drink and reach in between them to put my glass on the side. “If you don’t mind, we’re going to mingle.”
I steer Bridget away from the bar toward one of the unoccupied tables. She lets me keep my hand on her waist until we’re sat down opposite each other. She looks up at me nervously and runs her hands over the fabric over her thighs, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles.
I see the way a slight blush creeps up the side of her neck and over the apples of her cheeks. Reaching forward, I tap the back of her hand with my index finger and her fussing stops, her eyes flicking up to meet mine.
The prettiest baby blues widen slightly as she takes me in before she looks bashful and blinks away, looking anywhere but me. “Thanks for that,” she says in a quiet and embarrassed tone. “Talk about first impressions.”
“Are you okay?” I ask, watching as she smiles to herself. “It looked like a pretty uncomfortable situation.”
Bridget nods, tucking her hair behind her ear when a cluster falls in front of her face, “Yeah.” She sighs deeply. “I just really hate that guy.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I figured as much.” I lean back into my chair, enjoying the way she watches me, her eyes quickly trail over my shoulders and down the length of my torso.
“Sorry for that, by the way. I’m sure your fiancé isn’t going to be too happy knowing you had another man put his hands all over you. ”
Bridget tilts her head to the side as a look of confusion mars her face. “My what?”