The Wedding Rescue, Book Three (An Alpha Billionaire Club BBW Romance)

by Wilder, Alexa

  The servers made a last trip in with dessert and coffee. One more course, and we could escape. Fortunately, the wedding party was finished with their speeches. Another one of those and I would have fallen asleep at the table. Dylan and I both started on our chocolate torts with raspberry sauce. I sipped my coffee, trying to offset the glasses of wine I’d had with dinner. I didn’t know what the rest of the night would bring, but I didn’t want to be tired.

  Putting down my fork, I pushed back my chair. Some of the guests had gotten up to wander around and socialize. I had to find the ladies room, and this seemed like the most inconspicuous time to do it. After my (hopefully silent) orgasm at the table, I hadn’t wanted to draw any more attention to myself than necessary.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said to Dylan, picking up my purse so I could refresh my lip gloss. Dylan narrowed his eyes and nodded.

  The ladies room was down a long hall outside the entrance to the private dining room. I expected it to be crowded, but there was only one other woman in there, an older lady I didn’t recognize. I did what I had to and spent a few minutes fixing my lips and adjusting my hair, pleased to see that even without panties, and after a mind blowing orgasm, I still looked pretty damn good.

  I was feeling satisfied with myself right up until I pushed open the bathroom door and ran into Peter. The men’s bathroom was down the hall and there was no one else in the ladies, so he could only be waiting for me. Wary, I tried to edge around him. He shifted to block me and grabbed my wrist. A hard yank on my arm wasn’t enough to shake him off. I lifted a foot to go after his instep again, but he jerked on my arm, knocking me off balance. In my sparkly, stiletto heel sandals, it was impossible to dig in and resist when he pulled me into the shadows down the hall.

  “Relax,” he said, tugging me closer to him. “I just want to talk to you.”

  “I don’t think we have anything to say.”

  “I think we do. You misunderstood me earlier.”

  This, I had to hear. Was he going to apologize? Or demonstrate that he was even more of a pig than I thought?

  “Leigha,” he said, tugging me closer.

  His breath smelled like sour coffee. It was an improvement over his cologne. My nose rebelled, and I tried to breathe through my mouth. How could Christie stand him? He was rich, and she loved money, but couldn’t she find someone less repellant to marry?

  “I know you’re wondering how my proposal would work, with you here and Vegas and me in Chicago. But you don’t have to worry about that. I have a new contract that means I’ll be in Vegas all the time. We’ll hook up while I’m here, and no one will ever know.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Do you think I can’t take care of you? Once Kane is done fucking you, you’ll want another sugar daddy. Why not me?” Peter raked me with his eyes, taking me in from my breasts to my toes. He didn’t bother looking at my face.

  “I didn’t think you had it in you,” he went on. “You always dressed in those frumpy clothes, I had no idea what you were hiding under there. Your tits alone - ”

  I jerked back on my arm again, too disgusted to worry about losing my balance. Peter was too offensive to listen to a second longer. I no longer cared if I caused a scene. What gave him the right to treat me like a piece of meat just because I was dressed up for once? And what about my sister? Calling him a pig was an insult to swine.

  Peter tightened his hold on my arm, refusing to let me go. He opened his mouth, probably to say something else insulting, and I couldn’t help myself. I was in the wrong position to jab him with my heels, but I still had one free arm. Without thinking, I swung my fist at his face.

  At the pop of my fist against his nose, Peter yelped and reeled back. What he didn’t do was let go of me. As I teetered in my sandals, losing my balance as his grip on my arm jerked me back and forth, an arm came around my waist, steadying me. Dylan. Relief flooded through me. I wasn’t a fighter. That punch was the best I had in my arsenal. If things had gotten ugly, I would have thought of something, but Dylan could handle Peter better than I could. I knew my strengths, and beating up guys wasn’t one of them.

  With a stiff chop of one hand, Dylan struck at Peter’s arm just above his wrist. Abruptly, and with another yelp, Peter let me go. Dylan took advantage of Peter’s whining over his wrist to slide me to the side, out of the way.

  “Sorry I took so long,” he said. “I almost missed him sneaking out of the dining room.”

  “It’s okay. You’re here now.” Looking up into his angry green eyes, I said, “I punched him.” Dylan grinned at me, still pissed, and now amused. It was an intoxicating expression.

  “I see that,” he said, kissing me on the tip of my nose. Sweet again. He was killing me. “Do you mind if I have a word with him?”

  I shook my head, suspecting that Dylan’s plan involved speaking with a part of his anatomy other than his mouth. Peter finally dropped his wrist and stared at Dylan.

  “What’s your problem? Leigha and I were just talking.”

  I could guess what Dylan was thinking. Something along the lines of Peter not touching me ever again. He didn’t bother explaining his position to Peter. Instead, he hauled off and swung. Peter’s nose was already dribbling blood from my punch. With Dylan’s, his face exploded red. It would have been gross if it hadn’t been Peter. I wasn’t a fan of physical violence, but Peter had it coming. Dylan hit him again, this time on the chin. Peter stumbled back until he hit the wall. His feet went out from under him and he slid to the floor in an ungainly sprawl. One trembling hand touched his nose.

  “You broke my nose,” he sputtered, his voice muffled, as if he had a head cold. Dylan shrugged in disinterest.

  “I’ll sue your ass off. You can’t do this to me. Do you know who I am?”

  At that, Dylan laughed.

  “No. But I know who I am. Go ahead, press charges. This hallway is under surveillance. You’re in my casino, asswipe. You assaulted one of my guests, who happens to be my girlfriend. Not only should you rethink pressing charges, I suggest you make up a good explanation for your fiancée on the way to the hospital to get that nose looked at.”

  Did he call me his girlfriend? He did. Was it because it was easier and sounded more normal than calling me his lover? Or because he meant it? And if he meant it, what did that mean? My head reeling, I didn’t protest when Dylan took my hand and tugged me closer, tucking me into his side as we went down the hall.

  “I don’t think we’ll go back to the party,” he said. I shook my head in agreement. As soon as we were clear of the restaurant and back in the casino proper, Dylan stopped and turned me to face him. “Let me see that hand.”

  He lifted my hand and studied my knuckles. I hadn’t noticed until that moment, but my hand hurt. My knuckles were tender, the skin scraped on two of them. I hadn’t realized I’d hit Peter that hard. Dylan stroked my fingers and said,

  “This is going to bruise. Let’s get you some ice.”

  We were walking to a nearby bar, when I heard from behind me,

  “Dylan, hold up.”

  As one, we turned around to see two men coming toward us. Both tall, both heart stoppingly gorgeous. I was all Dylan’s, no question. But these two were perfect specimens of male beauty. One with short, dark hair, his eyes so deep a brown they were almost black, dressed in a suit much like Dylan’s. The other blond, eyes a bright blue, in a more casual button down shirt and jacket. They came to a stop in front of us and looked me over. The blond one said,

  “So this is who you stood us up for? Nice.”

  Dylan scowled back at them.

  6

  Dylan

  Fuck. I should have known those bastards would be up to something. Sam had taken it too well when I’d called to cancel our plans. They were my closest friends, good guys, loyal to the end. I wanted them nowhere near Leigha. She was too tempting, and they were both dogs. So was I, but that wasn’t the point. Leigha was mine. I planned to introduce her to Sam and Ax
el eventually, but not yet. Not until things were more solid between us. Half the time she acted like she was completely into me. The rest of the time, she looked like she was getting ready to bolt.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I asked, aware I sounded annoyed and surly. Sam grinned. Axel raised his dark eyebrows. Fuck. They were going to be annoying. The three of us were best friends, but in the way of males everywhere, we never missed an opportunity to give each other shit. Apparently, it was my turn.

  “Looking for you,” Sam said, his grin widening further when I glared at him. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your very attractive friend?” He winked at Leigha. My adrenaline was still high from hitting Peter, my body on alert for any threat to my woman. In my head I knew it was just Sam fucking with me. I still couldn’t help the growl in the back of my throat. Before I could stop her, Leigha reached out her hand.

  “I’m Leigha Carmichael.”

  “Sam Logan.” He took her hand in his and shook it. She winced. Irritation flared inside me. I snatched her hand back and examined it.

  “Introductions are over. This is Leigha. Leigha, the silent one is Axel. You met Sam. Now we’re getting ice for your hand.”

  Fortunately for my temper, she didn’t protest when I took her uninjured hand and dragged her toward the nearest bar. Yes, I was acting like a Neanderthal. No, I couldn’t help it. I’d let my woman get in a situation where she had to punch a scumbag to protect herself. I was proud of her for fighting back, but she shouldn’t have had to. I should have been on top of it. I didn’t have time to deal with Sam and Axel. They fell into step on either side of us.

  “How did she hurt her hand?” Axel asked, taking a sidelong look at Leigha’s hand.

  “Punched an asshole,” I said.

  “Where were you?” Axel’s brow was raised again, partly in curiosity, mostly in censure. I didn’t need it. I knew I was responsible.

  “Following him. Too slowly, it turned out.”

  “Dylan, I’m okay,” Leigha interrupted. “Really. I’ve been wanting to punch Peter for months. If you’d shown up earlier, I’d have missed my chance.”

  That was my girl, trying to give me what I needed. I had no doubt Leigha had enjoyed hitting that fucker, but she shouldn’t have had to. We reached the bar and claimed a row of high-backed stools.

  “A bag of ice for the lady’s hand,” I said to the bartender. He nodded and disappeared into the back.

  “So you ditched us for a girl,” Sam said, shaking his head. To Leigha, he said, “What are you doing with this guy? Why don’t you give me a shot and see what I can do for you?”

  To my right I saw Axel shake his head. Sam was the funny one of the three of us. I opened my mouth to tell him to shut the fuck up when Leigha spoke, her voice caught in a laugh, light and sweet.

  “You might want to rethink that offer. I punched the last guy who tried to get me away from Dylan.”

  Sam winced and pretended to duck his head in fear of her fists. Axel smiled and shook his head again. He knew me well enough to hold back the teasing until I’d at least taken care of Leigha’s hand. So did Sam, but he was always willing to test my temper if he thought it was funny.

  “Did you leave the guy alive?” Axel asked, only half kidding. I shrugged.

  “Yeah. But he’s not going to look too pretty at his wedding.” Leigha giggled.

  “Christie is going to be so pissed. Even if his nose isn’t broken, he’ll look awful. He was bleeding everywhere.” At Sam and Axel’s confused look, she said, “Christie is my sister. I’m here for her wedding. Peter is the groom. And Dylan and I met when I was crying into my drink because I didn’t have a date for the wedding. He came to my rescue.”

  “I can’t imagine you didn’t have men lined up out the door to take you out,” Sam said, dropping his jokester persona for the smooth charm he used on women. He’d better check that with Leigha. I’d taken him down before. I’d do it again if I had to. Leigha just smiled at him and shook her head.

  “I live a quiet life,” she said in explanation. “So, you three are friends? Do you guys work with Dylan?”

  “No,” I said, cutting in. “Sam owns Desert Vistas Construction and Axel is the western head of Sinclair Security. I contract with him on occasion.” Leigha looked from Sam to Axel to me.

  “Okay. Wow. I know both of those companies. They’re huge. So you’re all billionaires? And you hang out together? You’re like the Alpha Billionaire’s Club. Talk about dates being lined up out the door.” She looked at her feet, trying to hide her smile. “I might faint from the concentration of hotness.”

  Even Axel smiled at that. For someone who was shy by nature, Leigha was coming out of her shell. I approved of her growing confidence, even though I hated that she was using it to flirt with my friends. The bartender returned with a plastic bag of crushed ice. I thanked him and took it, pressing it gently to Leigha’s bruised knuckles. I knew my friends. They sensed Leigha wasn’t one of my interchangeable dates and they weren’t going to leave us alone until they got a feel for her. I might as well settle in and make the best of it.

  7

  Leigha

  Dylan held the bag of ice against my hand with care, conscious that too much pressure would bring me pain. I could tell he was still riled up from the confrontation with Peter and pissed that I’d hurt myself. I didn’t care about my hand. A little pain was worth seeing Peter bleeding from my punch to his nose. What an ass. I couldn’t believe my sister was really going to marry him. If she’d been a different woman, I’d have told her about Peter, tried to convince her to call it off. Christie wouldn’t care that he was planning to cheat. She’d probably spent the last month personally interviewing for their pool boy—very personally.

  Dylan’s free arm came around my waist, pulling me back until I was flush with his chest. Taking a deep breath, I relaxed into him. I didn’t know what kind of cologne he wore, or if that scent was just his soap, but he always smelled so good. He and his friends had changed the subject off me and onto something else. I wasn’t paying attention. Something about vandalism on a construction site.

  Our small group drew eyes from all over the casino floor, mostly women checking out the three hot men at the bar. The way Dylan held me, I could barely be seen over his shoulder except by Sam, Axel, and the bartender. That was fine with me. I’d had a little fun joking around with Dylan’s friends, but I only wanted Dylan’s attention. Funny how being with Dylan gave me the confidence to flirt with Sam and Axel. Normally I wouldn’t be able to work up the nerve to speak to men that attractive, but with Dylan at my side, knowing I was his, I was comfortable. The bartender returned and asked for our order.

  “What do you want, love?” Dylan asked dipping his head to touch his lips to the shell of my ear. I shivered against him.

  “Just water, please. Nothing more to drink.”

  “Good girl. I don’t want you falling asleep on me.”

  He passed my order along to the bartender and went back to his discussion with Sam and Axel. I could have joined in. They weren’t excluding me. But I was happy to be where I was, cuddled into Dylan, letting my mind drift over the rest of our evening. So far, sex with Dylan had been demanding, mind-blowing, and unexpected. I was both nervous and eager to see what he had in store for me next.

  I people watched, occasionally contributing to the conversation when I had something to say. In the time it took us to empty our glasses, three sets of women had come up to us and hit on the guys, Dylan included. They didn’t seem to care that he was glued to me. They propositioned him right over my head. Each time, he politely, yet firmly, pointed out that he was both taken, and not interested. The fourth pair of predatory females was a cut above the others. I didn’t know a lot of beautiful women, but these two were perfection. One a redhead and the other blonde, they were tall, shapely, and exquisitely dressed.

  “Well, look who we found,” the redhead said, winding her arm around Sam’s waist. Clearly she knew the guy
s. The blonde winked at Dylan and kissed Axel on the cheek.

  “My favorite troublemakers,” she said. “It’s a good thing Charity had other plans since you have your hands full,” she said to Dylan. His arm around my waist squeezed tight. I wasn’t sure if it was in possession or reassurance.

  “I do,” he answered. “Leigha, meet Lacey and Violet.”

  I didn’t have my hands free since one was still on ice and the other was trapped by Dylan’s arm, so I nodded and smiled. To my surprise, both women nodded and smiled back.

  “Too bad for us,” Violet said from her place beside Sam. Giving Sam a playful elbow in his gut, she went on, “Dylan is the best of these three.”

  “Hey,” Sam said in affront. “You’ve never complained before.”

  “Not complaining, sweetie. Just pointing out that Dylan is the best catch of the three of you.”

  “Because of his business?” I asked, ready to change my cautious approval to dislike if Violet was judging Dylan on his bank account.

  “Not that, honey. All three of these boys are loaded. But Sam is a terminal bachelor. Someday Axel and Dylan will both settle down, but not Sam.”

  “So what’s wrong with me? Why is Dylan a better catch than I am?” Axel asked, not sounding the least bit concerned that he wasn’t at the top of their list. Considering that Lacey was pressed up against him, he didn’t seem to have cause for worry. Lacey shot him a look that said, ‘Get real.’ Out loud, she said, “You’re a little scary. So serious all the time. And your job isn’t exactly low key.”

  “I thought you ran Sinclair Security?” I asked. Axel seemed serious, but I wouldn’t have called him scary.

  “I do,” he said, a wry smile curving his lips. “But I also handle our more specialized cases.”

  “Sometimes they get a little hairy,” Sam cut in.