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Jennifer broke the kiss with alarm.
I guided her behind me, shielding her from the hellion that was my ex-wife on the war path.
Melissa’s nonsensical yelling continued as she approached. “He’s mine.”
“Get a grip. We’re divorced,” I yelled back, holding Jennifer behind me. “Get the hell out of here before I have you thrown out.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
I stepped forward with a finger pointed at her. “It would be my pleasure.” I pulled out my phone. “Are you going to make me call security?”
She hissed and fumed before backing away. “I’ll ruin you both.” She spun around and clacked off toward the doorway.
I didn’t turn back to Jennifer until the door closed behind Melissa.
My girl was shivering. “She scares me.”
The feeling was understandable, this being her first and hopefully last encounter with Melissa’s hysterics.
“Don’t let her get to you. That’s what she wants. We should go inside where it’s warmer.”
Jennifer shook her head. “Not until we know she’s gone. I don’t need a repeat with everybody around.”
“I’ll tell security to not let her back in, and I’ll bring more champagne so we can plan that date.”
The mention of a date brought back her smile, and I gave her a peck of a kiss before marching inside.
The original three bartenders had dwindled down to one, and there was an uncharacteristic line. Eventually I received two flutes of bubbly and made my way to the front.
It was manned by Gus, one of the museum security guards and an LAPD cop. He looked up as I approached. “You shouldn’t have. We can’t drink on duty.”
“Sorry, Gus, not for you.”
The cop controlled his laugh.
I hadn’t seen Melissa anywhere inside, or in the hallway leading here. “My ex-wife, Melissa Benson, is not to be readmitted under any circumstances.”
Gus cocked a brow. “You got it, Mr. Benson, but I didn’t see her leave yet.”
Shit.
This was my father’s party, but I made an executive decision. “Then radio the other guys to look for her and escort her out.”
He pulled out his radio as I headed back to the tables.
My jacket was at our table, and I’d bring that out to Jennifer with the bubbly. Gus’s guys could deal with Melissa.
* * *
Jennifer
I’d meltedinto his arms from the first dance. The songs weren’t my favorite, but I had no complaints as he’d held me. I’d molded my body closer to his with each song, feeling the hard strength of his muscles beneath the fabric as he moved.
And that wasn’t all that was hard. His reaction to me may have been easier to notice than the liquid heat pooled between my legs, but it was no more real than the arousal I felt enveloped in his arms.
Every shift of his weight brought me closer to demanding he take me someplace private. His suggestion of another date had my mind going to all kinds of naughty places.
All of that had made me forget the original plan for tonight—until his ex appeared, with all her full-throated anger.
