Amateur.
“Appreciated,” I said. “For the drink and the good wishes.”
“I mean, it’s not like it’s real,” he prattled on. “Laney told me everything.”
“What was that?” Christ, all I needed was Laney’s family and friends to find out she didn’t even remember becoming my wife. Then I’d have to fight them and her to get her to Boston.
“Just, you know, that it was quick and all. Spur of the moment thing.” He shook his head. “Not really like her. She just needed to blow off steam since everything that has happened with her parents.”
There was a tightness in my chest that I didn’t like while he spoke. Had she really said that? Had she told him we were planning to end it too?
Unlike Derek, however, I wasn’t one to kiss and tell.
“Laney and I used to date. We were engaged actually.”
God, this fucker didn’t know when to stop.
“Is that so? She’s never mentioned you.”
Another lie. Obviously, I knew full well who he was to her, but I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. My father had taught me to never tip my hand. Not in the boxing ring, and not in a negotiation either. This, of course, wasn’t an open negotiation—not for Laney, and not for anything else—but this asshole was treating it like it was.
“Well, that’s weird. You know, our relationship wasn’t that long ago. And you two got married really quickly. How long have you actually known her?”
Less than a week. “Long enough to know she was the woman I wanted to marry. And that the two of you broke up over a year ago.”
“Right.” He puffed up, a move I’d seen many times before, usually from insecure businessmen or small-dicked college bros. “Listen, Ronan. If you do anything to hurt our girl…”
Our. Girl.
My hand that didn’t have a drink opened and closed at the phrase, eager to throw the first of a one-two punch.
Our girl.
Ourgirl?
“She’s not exactly ‘ours’, is she? Certainly not yours. Or mine.” It physically hurt to say the last phrase, but I had to. “Laney’s her own person, Dick.”
He gulped down his drink with a scowl. “It’s actually Derek.”
“Whatever. Hey, wait a minute.” I put a finger to my chin. “Wait a second. Derek? Maybe Laney mentioned you after all. Aren’t you the piece of shit that cheated on her the day when her mom was in the hospital?”
The cockiness fled. He had a weak chin when he wasn’t thrusting it out like a jackass. “That’s not exactly what happened.”
“It never is.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Maybe I should thank you, though. If we got married because she was blowing off steam, at least I’ll get to have one hell of an adventure making her scream my name for the rest of our lives.”
He reared, though he couldn’t quite shake my hand. “Wow. I knew you were a fucking prick, but?—”
“Oh, Dick. Takes one to know one. And you want to know something else?” I yanked him close so that I was speakingdirectly into his ear. “You touch her, speak to her, fuckinglookat her wrong, and you’ll learn just how much of a prick I can really be. And youreallydon’t want to learn that lesson, you pug-faced fuck. The people who do don’t usually recognize themselves after.”
I released him with a shake, and it was only then that I took a drink of the martini Weak, just like him, though I enjoyed the way his already pale face turned ghostly white as he watched me down the whole thing in one go.
I set the empty glass in his hand. “Been a pleasure, Dick. Now it’s time for me to findmywife.”
Conscious of the fact that he was watching me the entire time, I located Laney on the other side of the room just as she looked up from a conversation, caught my gaze, and grinned.
Just as I reached her, the band stopped playing, and a familiar announcement was made: “Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Weatherford!”
The room broke into applause and cheers as I slid a hand around Laney’s waist and pulled her close.