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Authors: Dominique Eastwick
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damned well who I mean.”
“You can say her name. I promise not to go off the rails.”
“Maybe you should. When she…Riley—”
Barret could hardly miss the way his brother gritted his teeth at saying her name.
“—left you didn’t get upset, you just dug in harder—made more money, worked more. When you bought the house, I thought, ‘Hurrah, he’ll get away but then all you do is work there renovating so you can flip it and make more money.’”
“You like the money I make. Besides, I didn’t have a lot of choice but to keep working. Too many people relied on that shipping merger to go through.” Besides, it was work or get on his knees and beg her to come back to him.
Chandler sighed, and his attention moved to the gentlemen approaching their table. Content that his brother would be tied up in conversation, Barret picked up the coffee before him. The rich roasted aroma assailed his senses, perking him back up for a moment. His hand froze as he brought the mug to his lips. His eyes met the ice blue glare of a man across the ballroom. His ex’s cousin stood, staring him down—Tony Sherman, reformed playboy, golden boy of the press, and self-proclaimed protector to the Sherman clan.
Barret knew better than to step back or look away. Of course, the problem with Sherman cousins was, like raptors, they hunted in packs. While one locked eyes with you, more were flanking you from all sides. Only when the pretty blonde next to Tony forced his attention off Barret and onto her, did Barret look away. Searching the room, he located two more Shermans—first Trenton, another of Riley’s cousins, then Alec, the world-renowned photographer and Riley’s older brother. Scanning between them, in an effort to protect himself, he managed to get his brother’s attention. He was in deep discussion a table over. “Who is sponsoring this event?”
“Um, let’s see, Transit Unlimited, some oil company, and let me check the ticket… Oh, Sherman Industries.”
“Great.” He’d managed to walk straight into the lion’s den. Scanning the room again, through the sea of tuxedos and dresses that could feed a small country with what they cost, he managed to locate Tony’s tall blond head. And predictably, Tony was next to the one person he hoped to locate. He watched as Tony leaned over and whispered into the ear of the woman whose voluptuous backside remained turned to him. A sea of strawberry blond tendrils kissed her neck.
As she turned slowly, he held his breath, waiting to see her face. Perhaps she was turning in slow motion, but in his mind it was an eternity. Finally their eyes met and locked. His lungs hurt from not only holding in his breath but from the anticipation. Ignoring the five sets of male eyes burning into him, he walked toward her. The other Sherman females seemed blissfully unaware that their men were closing ranks, protecting and proving that once again no one messed with a Sherman and got out scot-free.
“Briggs,” Tony grunted, stepping into his path.
“Sherman,” was all he could say unless he planned to make a scene. And really what more could he say?
“Tony, enough.” Riley’s voice sent chills over Barret’s heated body, washing the exhaustion away.
“Tony Sherman, what are you doing?” The same blonde from earlier demanded. She placed a firm hand on his chest and forced him to move. So this was the woman who had brought the famed playboy to heel.
“Haven, my Neanderthal cousins and brother seem to think we women can’t handle anything by ourselves.” Riley’s gaze never left the men before her.
Barret watched as the Sherman men’s focuses turned to appeasing the ladies and their hostility. How the mighty did fall. Even Trent, who was single, wasn’t immune to the attack.
Riley, having dealt with her would-be bodyguards, now focused on him. “Hello, Barret.”
“Riley.”
“I assume you didn’t just try to maneuver the Sherman gauntlet to say my
“You can say her name. I promise not to go off the rails.”
“Maybe you should. When she…Riley—”
Barret could hardly miss the way his brother gritted his teeth at saying her name.
“—left you didn’t get upset, you just dug in harder—made more money, worked more. When you bought the house, I thought, ‘Hurrah, he’ll get away but then all you do is work there renovating so you can flip it and make more money.’”
“You like the money I make. Besides, I didn’t have a lot of choice but to keep working. Too many people relied on that shipping merger to go through.” Besides, it was work or get on his knees and beg her to come back to him.
Chandler sighed, and his attention moved to the gentlemen approaching their table. Content that his brother would be tied up in conversation, Barret picked up the coffee before him. The rich roasted aroma assailed his senses, perking him back up for a moment. His hand froze as he brought the mug to his lips. His eyes met the ice blue glare of a man across the ballroom. His ex’s cousin stood, staring him down—Tony Sherman, reformed playboy, golden boy of the press, and self-proclaimed protector to the Sherman clan.
Barret knew better than to step back or look away. Of course, the problem with Sherman cousins was, like raptors, they hunted in packs. While one locked eyes with you, more were flanking you from all sides. Only when the pretty blonde next to Tony forced his attention off Barret and onto her, did Barret look away. Searching the room, he located two more Shermans—first Trenton, another of Riley’s cousins, then Alec, the world-renowned photographer and Riley’s older brother. Scanning between them, in an effort to protect himself, he managed to get his brother’s attention. He was in deep discussion a table over. “Who is sponsoring this event?”
“Um, let’s see, Transit Unlimited, some oil company, and let me check the ticket… Oh, Sherman Industries.”
“Great.” He’d managed to walk straight into the lion’s den. Scanning the room again, through the sea of tuxedos and dresses that could feed a small country with what they cost, he managed to locate Tony’s tall blond head. And predictably, Tony was next to the one person he hoped to locate. He watched as Tony leaned over and whispered into the ear of the woman whose voluptuous backside remained turned to him. A sea of strawberry blond tendrils kissed her neck.
As she turned slowly, he held his breath, waiting to see her face. Perhaps she was turning in slow motion, but in his mind it was an eternity. Finally their eyes met and locked. His lungs hurt from not only holding in his breath but from the anticipation. Ignoring the five sets of male eyes burning into him, he walked toward her. The other Sherman females seemed blissfully unaware that their men were closing ranks, protecting and proving that once again no one messed with a Sherman and got out scot-free.
“Briggs,” Tony grunted, stepping into his path.
“Sherman,” was all he could say unless he planned to make a scene. And really what more could he say?
“Tony, enough.” Riley’s voice sent chills over Barret’s heated body, washing the exhaustion away.
“Tony Sherman, what are you doing?” The same blonde from earlier demanded. She placed a firm hand on his chest and forced him to move. So this was the woman who had brought the famed playboy to heel.
“Haven, my Neanderthal cousins and brother seem to think we women can’t handle anything by ourselves.” Riley’s gaze never left the men before her.
Barret watched as the Sherman men’s focuses turned to appeasing the ladies and their hostility. How the mighty did fall. Even Trent, who was single, wasn’t immune to the attack.
Riley, having dealt with her would-be bodyguards, now focused on him. “Hello, Barret.”
“Riley.”
“I assume you didn’t just try to maneuver the Sherman gauntlet to say my
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