He parked his hands on her shoulders. “Breathe, beautiful. Everything here is perfect, including you,” he said, then turned her around to let her soak in the room and all the guests—the glitterati of the city mingling and talking. Many of Ryan’s clients were here, from casino owners to his new White Box clients. He recognized plenty of familiar faces, too, from the mayor, to a popular magician, to a big-time high roller. Even his brother Colin was here, though he was busy chatting with a pretty brunette at the bar. Sophie’s brother John was somewhere among the guests. Ryan had said a quick hello earlier, and it hadn’t been as uncomfortable as he’d expected it to be. Maybe John didn’t hate him.
Sophie bit her lip, then words seemed to tumble out, laced with guilt. “I just feel bad because I couldn’t make the pattern,” she said, fiddling with a bracelet on her wrist.
He made a scoffing sound. “That’s what’s upsetting you?”
“I tried,” she said apologetically. “It was too complicated.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s sweet that you even offered.”
“I did try. I tried so hard.” Her voice sounded as if it was about to break. Then suddenly she plastered on a huge smile as an older man with gray hair strode up to them.
“Clyde Graser,” he said to Ryan, holding out a hand, and Ryan spent the next few minutes chatting with the man who was in some way responsible for this incredible woman and him growing even closer. If Clyde hadn’t pressured Sophie, she might not have asked him to the event tonight. And knowing they had this date had pushed them faster into each other’s arms.
But then, Ryan also believed that he and Sophie were an inevitability. Funny, because he’d never been one to put any stock in fate and love. But he did now, and if this man in front of him played a role in driving him closer to the woman he loved, then he deserved his gratitude, even if it was veiled in the guise of something else.
“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for the community center. It means so much to so many people,” Ryan said.
Then Sophie remarked that it was nearly time to bring Clyde on stage with the center director, so Ryan said goodbye to the two of them.
He turned around to look for Colin, but once again his younger brother was quite busy with the brunette.
* * *
Sure, there were other people here. Quite possibly Colin should talk to them. Maybe even interact with his brother Ryan. But Elle hadn’t slipped away from him yet, so he remained at the bar with her, club soda in his hand, a glass of water in hers.
“Did you get the new ink you were talking about?” she asked.
“I did. I’m close to the ten percent mark now,” Colin said, not looking away from her, because how could he? He hadn’t seen her dressed to the nines before, and she was jaw-droppingly stunning in her evening finery. But then, she was hot-as-sin in the jeans, short-sleeve blouses, and the little flat shoes she wore on the days he saw her at the community center, so he wasn’t surprised. This dress though—he was sure it had been painted onto her lush figure.
He wanted to tear it off.
She laughed. “No way are you that covered in tattoos,” she said, calling him on his fib. She was right—he wasn’t ten percent slathered in ink. He had plenty though, and she was an admitted tattoo junkie. Inked herself, the back of her neck boasted a line of sparrows. He’d kissed those birds a few times. Not enough as far as he was concerned.
“Fine. Maybe not yet. But close.”
“Are you going to show it to me? The new one?”
He raised an eyebrow and shot her a dirty look, then moved his hands to his belt buckle as if he were going to take off his pants.
“Colin!” she hissed under her breath, her eyes widening. She waved her hands frantically as if to stop him.
“What?” he said, deadpan. “It’s on my hip.”
Her eyes fluttered closed momentarily. Maybe she was picturing his hip. Or him unzipping his pants. Or perhaps the image of her lips on his new ink had slid in front of her eyes. Good. He had that image working overtime, too.
“So that’s a no?” he asked, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “Even if I told you it matches your favorite one on me?”
She’d seen them all, from the ink that covered his right shoulder and sloped to his elbow, to the art on his pecs—even the illustration that started on his lower back and curved to the top of his ass. Hardly anyone knew he had more than a dozen tattoos. He was a suit-and-tie kind of guy, given his job. But when the suit and tie came off, he was the guy with tattoos.
And “the bad boy,” as Elle called him. That was why she kept him at an arm’s length. Well, not all the time. But enough.
“I do, Colin. But not here.”
He gripped her elbow. “Let’s go somewhere.”
She inhaled sharply and shook her head. “We can’t keep doing that.”
“Why?”
“Because. I’ve told you a million times why.”
He leaned in closer and fingered a strand of her long, soft chestnut hair. “I could do that thing you like so much.”
She jammed a hand against his chest. “You’re incorrigible,” she said, but she didn’t push him away. Instead, she curled her fingers around the fabric of his shirt. “You make me crazy. But Sophie is going to introduce me and then I’m going to introduce Clyde, so you can’t do this right now. This flirting thing.” She let go of his shirt, then narrowed her eyes and parked her hands on her hips. “And now you’ve distracted me. So talk about something else, because I don’t want to go up there with my mind on your damn hips.”
His lips quirked up. “Fine, fine. I’ve been meaning to show you a picture my brother-in-law gave me of a guy he’s seen around. See if you know him. I think he’s one of the guys from the center who plays hoops,” he said, reaching into his back pocket for his phone. He came up empty. “Ah, shit. I left it in my car.”
“Send it to me later, okay?”
“I will,” he said, then added, “Along with a picture of my new ink?”
She shook her head, but under her breath she said yes.
* * *
“Be an artist. Be an athlete. Be a leader,” Clyde said, his voice booming through the mic across the ballroom. “The local community center has a mission to provide all those services to young men and women in our fine city, whether it’s shooting basketballs, learning photography, or even getting a healthy meal for dinner. The center has cooking, parties, poetry, volunteer services, and thanks to the fearless director, Elle Mariano, we have wonderful support and counseling for young people today. I couldn’t be more delighted to be a key supporter of this very fine center and its services. And I am thrilled that so many other local companies have opened their wallets and checkbooks to get on board with us.” Clyde then rattled off the names of other supporters, from Colin’s firm to the newest ones in White Box. When he was through, the crowd clapped and cheered, including Curtis and Charlie, who Ryan had been enjoying a drink with.
“Glad to hear you guys on that list. Impressive to see you get behind the local community,” Ryan said to the two men.
“Thank you. We were glad to help,” Charlie said in a gentlemanly and gracious tone. “As a younger man, I was a bit of a troublemaker. Now that I’m older, I try to stay out of trouble.”
“We were all troublemakers one way or the other, weren’t we?”
“Indeed we were. We try to do better as we grow older and wiser,” he said, like a sage advisor, dispensing wisdom gleaned over the years. “By the way, your security team is doing a spectacular job already with my clubs. I couldn’t be more thrilled to be working with you to help keep my business safe and secure.”