Michael smiled. “No worries. I’m smoke-free.”
Why isn’t this the type of guy I usually dated? Following in his father’s footsteps, Michael had played college football before a torn ACL ended his career before it even started. With his knowledge of the game and all-American good looks, his transition to sportscaster came easily. Although moving up the chain of command had taken him more behind the scenes the last few years. “Do you have any interviews planned this season? I’d love to watch you filming and learn. Your interviews always came across as if you were having a casual talk in the living room, rather than sitting on a set in front of cameras.”
“Thank you. I actually don’t have any on the calendar as of now, but you just gave me a reason to change that.”
A new song had just started, and I was enjoying his company when a voice behind me said, “Can I cut in?”
My head whipped around, even though I had no doubt whom the gravelly voice belonged to.
Michael was gracious. “I hate to share. But I suppose I have been hogging the most beautiful woman at the event.” He let go of my hand and stepped back with a gentlemanly nod. “Thank you for the dance, Delilah.”
Again Brody Easton had caught me off guard. Before I knew it, I was dancing with the arrogant jerk. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body tight against his. Way tighter than Michael had held me.
“Good to see you again, Lois Lane.”
The man had balls; I had to give him that. I looked him straight in the eyes. “Nice to see you with clothes on, Easton.”
“Do you prefer me without?”
“I prefer you on the other side of the room.”
He chuckled. It was a hearty laugh. “That’s what happens sometimes when you decide you want to hang out in the men’s locker room.”
I tried to pull back, but he tightened his grip and held me in place. I craned my neck. “Let go of me.”
“No.”
“No?”
“That’s right. No.”
“I can scream at the top of my lungs.”
“I’d like to hear you scream.” His tone made it clear he meant he wanted me underneath him while I was doing the screaming.
“You’re an asshole. You know that?”
“I do. You asked me that yesterday. For a reporter, you should really try changing up your questions more frequently.”
My eyes bulged.
Easton shifted his hand down to the small of my back before twirling us around the dance floor. Figures the prick can dance.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“You can’t be serious?”
He ignored my comment. “Would you like to have dinner tonight?”
“We just ate.”
“Dessert at my place, then?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you hit your head at the game yesterday?”
“On a diet, huh?”
“Yeah. That’s it. I don’t want to go to your place for dessert because I’m on a diet.”
“Well, that’s just a shame.” Easton smiled. He was actually pretty quick-witted and funny, but he was still an asshole. The song ended, and the band asked everyone to take a seat while the winners of the silent auction were announced.
“I’d say it was nice seeing you again, but I don’t lie.”
Easton grinned. He seemed to like my insults. But before I could walk away, he grabbed my hand. “Hey. Be careful with Langley. Met him a few times when he was a field reporter. Guy’s a jerk.”
“Isn’t that ironic coming from you?”
“I am who you see. That guy isn’t.”
For the rest of the night, I mostly enjoyed myself. Indie introduced me to a load of people I’d never met before, and my conversation with Michael headed from friendly to flirting. A few times, as Michael and I were sitting at the table talking, I looked up to find Easton’s eyes on me. The smile that had been on his face was gone, and he looked almost pissed. It made me lean into Michael even closer.
Outside, I waited at the valet stand for Indie’s car while she said goodbye to some people from corporate sales. Michael joined me just as his silver Porsche Spyder pulled up.
“Nice car.”
“Thanks. I’d love to give you a ride sometime . . . maybe on the way to dinner one night?”
“I’d like that. But my schedule is a little crazy the next few weeks.” Twenty-eight days left on my cleanse.
“When things calm down, then?” He handed me his cell, and as I was programming in my number, he leaned in. “You smell incredible. I’ve been meaning to tell you that all night.”
“Thank you. It’s Rose de Chloe. I just bought it and wasn’t sure if it was too floral.”
“It’s perfect.” Instead of taking his phone back from my hand, Michael wrapped his fingers around mine and pulled me in for a hug goodbye. When I looked up, Brody Easton was staring at us. He appeared more than a little angry. So I made Michael’s hug last extra-long.