Page 107 of Pucking One Night Stand

More applause.

When Brody steps off stage, he goes straight up to Dad. They exchange a firm handshake. A few quiet words. Then he turns to Blake.

Blake rises, no hesitation, and they collide in a man-hug that somehow morphs into a half-wrestle that nearly knocks over a nearby chair.

“Still got weak legs, Mason,” Blake taunts.

“Tell your biceps to shut up, Mitchell,” Brody fires back.

Now the party’s fully shifted gears. People are back to drinking, eating, and gossiping. The kids are somehow stickier. The bar is louder.

I head toward it.

I need alcohol. Lots!

“Thought I’d find you here,” Riley says, sliding in next to me like a smug little shadow.

She flags the bartender. “Two white wines, please?”

“You serious?” I glare at Riley, then the bartender. “Make that two large whiskeys. Neat. Don’t look at me like that, it’s a celebration.” Then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Dad playing with Chloe and Cory.

The bartender slides two glasses over. I pick mine up, clink it with Riley’s, and take an extremely large gulp.

That’s when I see this guy with a shirt buttoned right up to the collar, approaching me.

“Hey, sweetheart, wanna drink?” He leans on the bar and gives me the kind of smirk that would probably work on girls who hadn’t just had their kid’s slime in their hair a few hours ago.

“Umm… nope.” I take another long sip of my drink without even looking at him, already pivoting back toward Riley.

“Oh, come on,” he drawls, shifting closer. “Don’t be like that.”

Before I can even muster a fuck off, Blake’s voice cuts through the noise behind me, slicing clean and low. “You’re Randall Vaught’s cousin, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well,” Blake’s got a smug look on his face. “Hate to break it to you, buddy, but she’s taken.”

And just like that, my whole damn body reacts. I turn, and yep, there he is, with that mark from earlier, near his collarbone, lipstick. Mine. Oops. Don’t care.

The guy beside me, Mr. Button-Up wanna-be chairman, immediately pales. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Blake doesn’t even glance at him again. Dismisses him like he doesn’t exist. He’s looking at me. Just me. Like he always does. Like he always has.

“Seven years together,” I say, lifting a brow. “A whirlwind of a kid later, and you still get jealous?”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Not jealous.” He picks me up and kisses me, grinning against my lips. “Just reminding everyone you’re the best bet I ever made.”

The Real End!