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“Yes.”
“Even with your ex …”
I giggled. “I can’t believe you said that to him.”
When Luke had walked into Radiant, I’d almost shit myself right there on the spot. I thought Luke would flip Steven off, not shake his hand and try to belittle me in front of him. And Steven?! Possessive Steven?! Warmth gushed between my thighs. I loved that side of him.
Loved with a capital L.
“What did you expect me to say to him?” he hummed. “He’d made you feel like shit.”
“Where did that even come from?” I said, grasping my belly in a fit of chuckles.
“Where did what come from?”
After lowering my voice to replicate his, I said, “ ‘I’d tell you to enjoy the night, but an immature brat like you won’t be able to keep up with half the women here.’ ” I leaned back against him, shoulders jolting back and forth. “Steven, that was golden.”
He chuckled. “Listen, if Michelle got her hands on him, he would be screaming his safeword within a minute and attempting to crawl out the back door.”
I wiped happy tears from my cheeks, picturing Michelle crushing Luke’s tiny balls with her pointed heel, him screaming in pain and limping toward the door as she chased after him with that mischievous grin she always had.
“He was looking for trouble when he walked into my club, and he found it.”
Another chuckle escaped my mouth. “My big, bad Steven Patton.”
I should’ve been more serious because Luke had been the bane of my existence for so long, but it had been so refreshing to see someone who wasn’t Heather stick up for me. And to see Steven this annoyed at a man he barely knew because of me …
Someone knocked on the door.
“Mr. Patton?” a woman said.
All the silliness seemed to evaporate from my body, and I stiffened. Who is this?
“Yes, Brigitta?”
“Mr. Thornton would like to know if you’d like anything before we leave.”
Maybe she was his staff. But this late at night?
Steven paused and glanced down at me. “Are you hungry?”
“A bit.”
“What would you like?”
I glanced over my shoulder and up at him. “Do you have smoothies?”
“Two smoothies,” Steven called to Brigitta.
“Yes, Mr. Patton.”
Thank goodness that she hadn’t called him sir, or I might’ve had a breakdown.
“Who’s Brigitta?” I asked, jealousy nipping at my insides.
“Thornton is my chef, and Brigitta cleans when I’m working. She must have stayed later tonight,” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer to his strong chest. He lowered his voice and chuckled. “They think that I don’t know they’re dating.”
“They’re dating?!” I exclaimed. “That’s so cute.”
