Page 225 of Sweet Temptation

He put his hand on her waist.

I looked over at Andre—who was standing just outside the VIP area, keeping an eye on the crowd—unconsciously looking for backup.

Then I gave the guy talking to Summer a good, long once-over.

I didn’t recognize him, and I could see enough of his face to know it. He had the typical pirate-costume eye patch and the fake black beard—couldn’t even grow his own, apparently—but he pulled the beard down off his face while he and Summer talked. He wore a ruffled white pirate shirt, unbuttoned low, to show off his bare, waxed chest.

He looked like a fuckboy, and I already despised him.

That twitchy feeling was going off at the base of my skull, and I clenched my fists.

There was no concrete reason for it, except that Summer seemed on-edge. She was talking to him, willingly, but there was something stiff in her body language. On-guard. Her hand was pressed to her chest, the same way I’d seen her mom, Joanne, do in Summer’s living room when Summer told her about the attempted break-in. It was a protective, uncomfortable stance.

And fuck no, I didn’t like it.

I almost grabbed Summer and hauled her away, but I’d never do that to her unless I knew she was in danger.

Finally, she finished talking to him. Brody had come over, and he handed her a drink. She took it, smiling. But it was a smile she had to deliberately put on, because she hadn’t been smiling at fucking Blackbeard.

I watched him work his way out of the VIP area. He paused to say hi to someone, but didn’t really talk to anyone else.

I watched Summer talking to Brody and his wife. I wasn’t sure how to read the situation, that interaction between her and the mysterious pirate. But I didn’t like it.

It wasn’t jealousy, exactly. It was that twitchy feeling at the back of my neck. And I never ignored that twitch.

I turned to get a better look at the room, and I clocked the pirate as he moved through the crowd, until I lost him in the bodies. Then I waited, as patiently as I could, while Summer talked to a few more people.

When she finally nuzzled into my ear and said, “Come backstage with me?” I was relieved.

I caught Andre’s eye and pointed toward backstage. He nodded, and I led Summer out of the VIP area, through the door to backstage. By the time we locked ourselves in her dressing room, the twitch was a full-blown itch that I badly needed to scratch.

Summer turned to me, wearing a happy, adrenaline-buzzed smile. “So, what did you think of—”

“Who was that guy, in the pirate costume?” I cut her off. She’d been about to press her hot body up against mine, but paused.

She slipped her hands around my neck, tentatively, and I grabbed her waist, pulling her against me.

“Pirate?”

“The fuckboy,” I said bluntly. Granted, there were a lot of pirates out there tonight. And a lot of fuckboys. “With the wide-open shirt and the wandering hands.”

“Oh,” she said. “That pirate.”

“Yeah.” I fucking saw how his hands had crept around her waist while they talked. “Feely McGroperson. Who is he to you?”

She sighed and let me go, tugging out of my arms. “He’s the ghost of Halloween past.” She went over to her makeup kit, giving me a look in the mirror.

I wasn’t amused. “I got a vibe. What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on. He’s an ex.”

I walked over and stood behind her as she touched up her makeup. “I need to know this.” My voice sounded a lot more growly than I meant it to be. “Is he crossing lines? You don’t need another Blair Sanchuk situation.”

“Hardly.” She seemed calm as she retouched her lipstick, but I could tell she’d been bothered by her interaction with that guy. “I dated him after breaking up with Ash. You remember the mortgage broker I told you about? The one with the coke problem?”

“I remember.” I studied her in the mirror. “He hurt you?”

“I loved him and he disappointed me. So yes, he hurt me.” She dropped her lipstick back in the kit and picked up a powder brush. “Most of the ‘coke problem’ involved the fact that the coke in question was being snorted off of other women’s body parts.” She started touching up her cleavage with glittery powder. “Any hurt feelings I had over that are long gone. It’s just not the most fun to see him again. But it’s not a problem. It’s history. He heard about the attempted break-in, and he called the other day. We still have mutual friends, so word gets around. He was concerned, that’s all.” She dropped the brush in the kit and turned to me. “He and I aren’t still friends like Ashley and I are.” She slid her hands up my chest to my neck. “You told me not everyone is my friend. And you’re right. But not everyone is a threat, either.”

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