Devious Wingman: A Cocky Hero Club Novel

by Hagen, Casey

  Nope, they all went on like my vag didn’t hug him half the night with the enthusiasm of a forty-year-old virgin pounding a Fleshlight 3000.

  When Falcon and Hawk took off in their convertible, I thought I’d be able to breathe. Focus.

  Instead, here I sat an hour later at a twelve-top trying to get to know the six other wedding planners seated with us in direct view of his disdainful scowl.

  His dark, stormy eyes watched my every move. Not that he made it obvious. Not at all, the stealth bastard. He had a way of watching me, his eyes always scanning, but lingering on me a tad too long, coming back to me too frequently, and jutting back in my direction out of his peripheral.

  And of course, I knew…because I was watching him; only I wasn’t nearly as indiscreet about it.

  He stretched out, his arm draped over the one empty seat next to him separating him from the group of strangers. There might as well have been an empty seat on the other side too, the way his mood held apart from the group. Even Hawk made conversation, showed genuine interest, smiled a lot, and aimed the occasional wink at me.

  I really wish he’d stop doing that. Every time he did, Falcon’s eyes grew darker and his mouth harder.

  Falcon would never wink. He wouldn’t be caught reducing himself to anything one could mistake for charming. Knuckles dragging on the concrete with flashes of hot temper were more his style. I’d all but dismissed his few moments of kindness as nothing more than a fluke.

  “So, I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say you two aren’t wedding planners,” a petite woman with a blond bob named Cory said as she eyed up Falcon and Hawk with a predatory gleam in her eye that could be used under the entry for “thirsty” in The Urban Dictionary.

  “Not even close,” Hawk said, popping a piece of shrimp into his mouth.

  Cory leaned forward and propped her chin on her hands. Her hazel eyes zeroed right in on Hawk’s mouth and she grinned. “Okay, so spill. What do you guys do for a living?”

  Hawk sat up a little straighter, definitely taking an interest in the woman with the powerhouse energy radiating from her.

  She was one of those planners. She angled her body with a hint of invasiveness, asking forward questions, her voice taking on a hard edge in a subtle, yet not so subtle effort to get her own way. In the first few seconds of sitting down, she had maneuvered everyone into introducing themselves by name. Unyielding, she wasn’t about to take no for an answer. No letting people ease their way into getting to know one another, she just plowed her way through.

  By the end of the week, she’d be the one everyone was side-eyeing and dreading sitting with.

  I’d be fantasizing about balling up a veil and shoving it down her throat.

  Petty, but I had my moments.

  She should meet Vera. Hell, maybe she had. Maybe they’d been trained at the same terrorist facility.

  Cory angled her body with each question, her forwardness about as subtle as a jackhammer to the temple, her voice taking on a shrill edge as she pushed boundaries.

  No doubt about it, she was probably great at her job…except, when she wasn’t. Someone like her, a total go-getter, would be unyielding on certain details. Instead of flowing with the bride and taking the time to steer things in the right direction, she would bulldoze people with her ideas, and bend them to her will with sheer force.

  By the time they figured out they should resent her for it, she’d be long gone and overpowering the next couple.

  Hawk leaned forward and smiled. “What do you think we—”

  “We’re pilots,” Falcon said.

  If Falcon was looking to stay off Cory’s radar, he’d just made a huge mistake. Getting right to the point and cutting out the games was exactly the kind of reaction she’d feed off since a woman like her didn’t want to play games…unless the game was hers.

  “Really?” she fairly purred, angling her body toward Falcon.

  Falcon’s look only got darker when his abrupt response failed to shut Cory up.

  “Hawk owns Hawk Air, a successful charter company,” I offered…although who knows why. It would be good to watch Falcon suffer after sneaking off in the night.

  “Does he now?” Cory said, swinging her gaze back to Hawk.

  My only thank you was a cool glance before Falcon’s eyes slid away.

  “Well, actually—”

  “Hawk is too good of a guy to take credit where credit is due. My very married friend over here, Graham, might get called away for business, and he needed to know he could return to the city with ease. Hawk moved heaven and earth to make it happen for him. Didn’t you, Hawk?” I said, showing Falcon how to finesse a conversation.

  “Well, yes, I guess I did do that. Thanks, Emory,” Hawk said.

  “I got you,” I said, nodding my head while Cory scraped her chair back, tapped a woman named Marcella on the shoulder, and jerked her thumb to get Marcella to vacate the seat next to Hawk.

  The oppressing squeeze of my heart from dancing on a fine line in this twisted little non love triangle eased as I watched Hawk and Cory lean into one another, chattering away.

  “Now that right there is how matchmaking is done,” Soraya whispered in my ear.

  I rolled my eyes at her. “That was a nudge.”

  “I seem to recall we only nudged you,” she said.

  “Right over a cliff,” I muttered, giving another attendee named Ariel a reassuring smile.

  Graham lifted his chin, a smug smile on his lips. “My nudges were subtle.”

  “About as subtle as being a prisoner in Alcatraz,” I said, grabbing my glass of water and shifting away from my dueling friends. “So, Marcella, why don’t you tell us where you’re from?”

  Marcella, a bit shy but perceptive, started opening up, talking about living in Phoenix and her budding wedding planner business she’d started by accident when she helped a few friends out with their various events. Her socialite mother didn’t approve of her new profession, or of her working period, a detail she revealed with a defiant gleam in her eye.

  Someone had a rebellious streak. I liked her. I liked her a lot.

  The other planners, Ariel, Liz, Jocy, and Beau, all chimed in, all relatively local, within two hours of the venue. Liz eyed the room, her gaze not missing a single thing. Jocy got all sorts of excited, her hands animated when she talked about gowns and bridesmaid dresses. Beau, well, he hadn’t stopped tapping his foot and drumming his fingers to the beat of the tune in the background.

  I bet Beau’s favorite part was the music.

  What they said, what they did, the way they took in the room and people around them told me everything I needed to know.

  Like with Cory, she’d wrapped her figurative thighs right around Hawk’s face and hadn’t let him come up for air since. From the looks, he didn’t hate it.

  And neither did I. Cory took a bit of pressure off the worry that Hawk would catch on to the undercurrent sizzling between Falcon and me. You know, the one made up of mutual rage, lust, and a whole bunch of fuck yous and fuck you toos waiting to be said. At the same time though, she completely ignored everyone at the table, the same way she ignored Dustin and Sierra when they made announcements.

  Overall, she was a disrespectful twat waffle and Hawk was her “Look, squirrel!”

  Servers rolled in trays with what seemed like every meal option under the sun. Beef, chicken, salmon, fresh local veggies, salads, risotto, pasta, breads, rolls, and a whole buffet of desserts and chocolate-dipped fruit lay out in a food addict’s hedonistic buffet of get-in-my-belly deliciousness.

  Cory came up for air long enough to grab sustenance; that’s all I could call it when it looked like she might spend all night riding Hawk like a hobby horse.

  The thing was, he kept glancing at me while we ate, and I couldn’t tell if he wanted her to have her way with him or if he was looking at me to save him.

  When the staff came through and cleared the plates, Cory stood and pointed a finger down at Hawk.<
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  I wanted to snap it off.

  “Don’t go anywhere, I’m not done with you yet,” she said. “Marcella, join me.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was a goddamned command, and it had me clenching my teeth.

  Marcella stood and shot daggers at Cory’s retreating back. “Don’t worry, I won’t drown her in the toilet.”

  “Oh, honey, I don’t ordinarily advocate violence, but I think I can speak for just about everyone here when I say, please do,” Beau said.

  They scooted out the door, and I threw my napkin at Hawk. It smacked him in the cheek and fell into his lap.

  He grabbed at it and whipped around to me. “What?”

  “Listen, it’s none of my business, but I think if you’re going to be spending time with her, we need to come up with a safe word…something to let us know if you need us to rescue you.”

  Soraya snorted next to me. “And when she has him strapped to her bed with a ball gag in his mouth?”

  I shot a smirk at Soraya. “Well, by then I’d have to believe he’s committed.”

  Hawk sighed and glanced back toward the door. “I don’t know, I thought she was great.”

  “Sure you did; she had her tits in your face the entire time,” Falcon muttered next to him.

  “Look, Emory, do you mind if I speak to you for a minute?” Hawk asked.

  “Not at all,” I said, getting up to follow him.

  Turning to me, he shoved a hand through his short-cropped dirty-blond hair. “Is this weird? I feel like it’s weird. You and I—”

  “We never even started down the runway for takeoff, Hawk. It’s fine. I swear.”

  “I don’t even feel the chemistry anymore. Do you?” he asked. “Jesus, sorry, that was crass.”

  “It was honest. There’s no shame in being honest. I have to focus on my job. I’m essentially on the clock, and if I wasn’t—well, let's just say I think we might have left our chemistry at Rigby’s.” I laid my hand on his arm and leaned in. “And that’s okay,” I said, relieved to be having this conversation. At least I didn’t feel like my feelings for Falcon were driving a figurative serrated steak knife into Hawk’s spine anymore.

  His rigid shoulders relaxed, and he dragged his hand down his face, then grinned. “Okay,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “Any advice?”

  “Yes, wear a cup,” I said, making us both laugh.

  “Oh, come on, she’s not dangerous. Maybe wound a little tight, but I’ve got a solution for that,” Hawk said with a gruff laugh like he was talking to one of his buddies.

  My eyes rolled. “All men think they have a solution for that.”

  He slung his arm around my shoulders and kissed my hair. “You’re going to make someone really happy one day.”

  It almost felt like pity, but I slammed the door on the thought as soon as it cropped up. If anything, I guess I should consider the fact all I make Falcon feel are annoyance and derision as a sign.

  Falcon met my eyes at the same moment Hawk’s brushed his lips over my hair. The cords in his neck flexed with tension, and my initial instinct was to pull away, worried I was hurting Falcon.

  And then I smartened the fuck up and remembered the sound of him slinking away without a worry as to whether or not he was hurting me.

  When we joined the table again once again, Soraya stared Hawk down. “You,” she said, snapping her fingers for emphasis. “Safe word. Hurry, because she just came through the door.”

  “Bukkake,” Hawk blurted out.

  “Guuuuy,” Falcon said with an agonized groan as he leaned forward, winced, and dug his thumb and forefinger into his closed eyelids. “Did anyone bring whiskey? Jesus.”

  Graham choked on his drink. Soraya burst out laughing. Liz coughed, slapping her own chest. Ariel and Jocy covered their mouths with their hands.

  Beau’s lips twitched, but that was it. He was good at keeping a stone face, that one.

  “So what did I miss?” Cory asked, huffing out a breath as she dropped onto her seat.

  Marcella took her wine and sucked down half the glass.

  “You know, the usual. Sexy times, safe words, and bukkake,” I said with a shrug.

  Beau snorted into his red wine next to me.

  Cory glanced around the table, her eyes narrowed, while Hawk interlaced his fingers and dragged them over the top of his head as he blew out a long breath.

  “Okay, so let’s get into the nitty gritty. Craziest wedding ever?” Marcella asked, changing the subject entirely while she settled back into her seat.

  Bryce appeared with a bottle of white and red and began refilling glasses. I caught his eye and gave him a wink just like Hawk would have done.

  Falcon glowered.

  Good.

  “Ugh, the bride demanded everything be written using what she insisted was Mark Twain’s fountain pen. The marriage certificate had to be signed with it, the guest book, and the photo mat…you name it. I’d be willing to bet she signed all of their wedding checks with it too. She had one hundred and sixty-three guests. I hate her,” Cory said, ready to be the first one to complain. “And news flash, she was a liar. Right there under the base…Made in China.”

  “I’ve got one,” Ariel said. “The bride rejected the wedding band during the ceremony because it was old.”

  “Wait, what?” Liz said, leaning around Jocy to look at Ariel.

  “Yup. It was the groom’s grandmother’s ring. The bride yanked her hand right back like he was trying to slide a cock ring on her or something.” She held up her index finger. “It gets worse though,” Ariel said before taking a long gulp of wine. “She shopped the guests for one that would do.”

  “What do you mean shopped?” Marcella asked.

  “She went through all the wedding bands of the women sitting in the pews until she found one suitable for her ceremony.”

  “That’s fucked up,” Soraya said.

  “It gets worse…the one she picked she plucked right off the hand of her ex’s new wife.”

  “No way!” Cory said. “I don’t believe that.”

  “Really, what’s my motivation to lie?” Ariel said with a steely challenge in her voice.

  Cory crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “To win.”

  “To win what? This isn’t a competition, and I don’t see any prizes,” Ariel said, glancing around her.

  “Okay, I’ve got one…and if we were competing, you’d all be toast,” I said. “Robots.”

  Falcon slid me a glance.

  “Robots?” Liz asked.

  “Yup. A double wedding ceremony with one human couple and one robot couple. Bonus, they used robots for reception staff, too,” I said, loving the puzzled looks on their faces.

  “That’s, that’s…I’ve got nothing,” Marcella said, slumping in her chair.

  “They were the original prototypes the husband built before his technology took off. He had them married in the same ceremony.”

  “Robots? Like metal, glowing eyes, jerky movements robots?” Jocy asked.

  “Yeah, well, these were a bit more advanced than what you’d see in eighties movies, but yes. He produced thirty and programmed them to bring food and drinks to the guests throughout the entire reception. One even grabbed my ass. And it was a robot that slid the garter belt from the bride's thigh.”

  “Who does that?” Hawk asked.

  “A weirdo with way too much money,” I said. He’d been the only person who could possibly pay enough money to get Vera to look away from the nightmare of a wedding. His name, although prominent in New York City, never made it on her list of happy customers she gushed about at high society events.

  As a matter of fact, she gave us a stern warning to never mention it again.

  “That would give me nightmares,” Marcella said with a visible shiver.

  I nodded. “For six months.”

  “Can you imagine the wedding night?” Soraya said with a laugh.

  “No. And I don’t want to,” Graham said.


  “Okay, I’ve got one. It’s not quite as creepy, but I had to fend off a crazed brother,” Liz said.

  “I’m sure we’ve all dealt with horny brothers,” Cory said, her wry tone full of disdain.

  “Not horny. Seriously crazed and wielding a small army of pets and a fish,” Liz said, giving Cory a pointed look. “His little sister was marrying his best friend and he was livid. Absolutely out of his mind. They decided to skip a big family wedding because they didn’t trust him to keep it together and they were right. They went with a destination wedding in Colorado, with only close friends and their parents. I still don’t know how he found out, but he showed up and caused a hell of a scene.”

  Falcon pushed away from the table and headed for the dessert station. No eye contact. No “excuse me.” Nothing. Just gone.

  My heart pinched.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Marcella asked watching Falcon stomp away.

  “He gets surly if he misses dessert. Go on,” I said, trying to ignore him entirely. I dismissed his behavior in a way that said wedding planner smoothing feathers and not guilty little sister who boned her brother’s best friend.

  But something Graham said on the plane had me shifting in my seat, a thread of unease humming through me. I was starting to feel like I was left out of the know somehow, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  My brother was dead; it’s not like Falcon was sharing secrets with the guy.

  I shook my head and smiled, turning my attention back to Liz.

  “The parents asked him to pet sit. Said they were going out of town for a weekend getaway. He showed up with their two cats, dog, bird, and betta fish tank. A total nut bar.”

  “He’s wound a little tight,” Beau said. “I mean, I’ve seen some brothers and fathers lose it, but to bust up the ceremony with a fish tank riding shotgun, that’s next level right there.”

  “I think you might have my robots beat. I’ll be right back, guys. I’m going to grab some strawberries,” I said, excusing myself from the table.

  My steps slowed about halfway to the buffet. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Hawk was right there and while the things were now firmly on friend level and nothing more, this could give him a window into seeing there was a whole lot more going on between Falcon and me than either of us let on.