Owen: The Lost Breed MC #9

by Parker, Ali

  I nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Brittney.”

  Brittney slipped out of my bedroom and sent in my makeup artist. She was a young slip of a girl with long, thick blonde hair nearly down to her ass. She rolled her makeup kit into my room behind her and began opening it up. As she unveiled her products, she smiled up at me and swept her mane of hair over her shoulder. “How are you this evening, Ms. Snow?”

  I waved my hand at her. “No need to be so polite, Sage. We’re all friends here.”

  She popped up to her feet and smiled. “Thank you. I’m sorry. You make me nervous.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged a dainty shoulder. “You’re very influential. And very powerful. And rich. And beautiful.” She giggled nervously and shook her head. “Sorry. I’m gushing.”

  “I’m just like you,” I told her. “Now. Show me what you brought.”

  I spent the next half hour with both Sage and Brittney bustling around me, doing their work. They were both completely committed to making sure my look was seamless. My curls fell perfectly down my back, and Brittney pinned one side up, securing the hair behind my ear to show off the chandelier earrings I was going to pair with my gown.

  Sage gave me a flawless complexion with a deep smoky eye color and winged eyeliner. I was feeling myself when they finished up and left me in privacy to put my gown and shoes on.

  I had to be at Owen’s place in half an hour.

  My nerves were starting to get to me a little bit. I was worried about how Owen was going to feel at the gala. He was going to be out of his element. That was for sure. And I had no idea how he would behave in a setting so foreign to him.

  I found it hard to believe that he would behave poorly. He knew how important this was to me, and he wouldn’t put me in a tight spot. So long as he played the part, nobody would be suspicious. And if nobody was suspicious, they wouldn’t feel the need to call my father and give him the heads-up that I was seeing a man with a scarred eyebrow and a mean streak.

  Time would tell.

  My gown hung on the back of my closet door. It was a sleek, tight, midnight-blue dress with criss-crossing straps down the open back. The sleeves sat off the shoulders, exposing my décolletage, which was dusted by the ends of the extremely long diamonds earrings I put in. The final piece was my shoes, strappy diamond-studded nude pumps.

  I stood back to look at myself in the mirror and smoothed out the silky fabric of the gown.

  Yes. This would do.

  It was a bit sexier than what I would normally wear to an event like this.

  To deny it had anything to do with Owen would be a lie.

  I wanted to look good for him. Correction, I wanted to look my ultimate best for him.

  And I had to admit. This dress was pretty much as good as it was going to get.

  I fidgeted with the strap of my clutch in the back of the limo on the ride from my apartment building to Owen’s house.

  I hadn’t been this nervous in ages.

  The limo pulled up to the curb outside his house and double honked the horn. I didn’t like how impersonal that was, so I got out of the back and began making my way up the drive to go knock on his door. But when I was halfway there, the door opened, and he stepped outside.

  The suit I’d picked out for him looked incredible on his frame. It accented his broad shoulders and narrow waist and the midnight-blue shirt complemented my dress perfectly.

  He turned from the door as he adjusted his cufflinks and stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell upon me.

  “Damn,” he breathed, letting his gaze rake me up and down, down and back up, and then up and down once more. “You look… wow.”

  It was impossible not to smile and blush under his flattery. “Stop it.”

  He came toward me and rested a hand on my hip as he leaned in to give me a sweet kiss. Then he ran his hand along my hip, and a wicked smile stretched his cheeks. “I don’t feel anything under this very thin fabric.”

  I lifted my chin. “I’m true to my word, McCully. No panties.”

  He chuckled and put his hand in the small of my back to guide me back to the limo. We slid inside, and he pulled the door closed behind him. The driver pulled away, and we headed to the hotel, which was about a forty-minute drive from Owen’s place in New York City traffic.

  Owen shifted closer to me on the back seat and put his hand on my thigh. “You know, I think I’m going to need some visual proof about this whole no panty business.”

  “Do you not trust me?”

  Owen gave my thigh a squeeze. “I trust you to deliberately fuck with me.”

  “Oh, poor sweet Owen,” I whispered, reaching up to caress his cheek as I drew my dress up my leg with my other hand. I drew it up my shin, over my knee, and up my thigh, pausing where his hand rested. “If I wanted to fuck with you, you wouldn’t even see it coming. Now, move your damn hand.”

  Owen didn’t need to be told twice. He moved his hand, which allowed me to draw my dress up the rest of the way, exposing the top of my thigh and the groove of my hip.

  He ran his hand along the top of my leg to rest it between my thighs. “You are too sexy for your own good.”

  I leaned into him. “The same could be said about you.”

  “Nah.” He shook his head. “There isn’t a soul on this planet that can compare to you. And somehow, I’m the guy on your arm. How the fuck did I get this lucky?”

  I smiled and bit my bottom lip. “You fought for me.”

  “I’ll always fight for you.”

  “Just not tonight,” I said.

  He chuckled. “No. Not tonight.”

  I gave him a kiss. And then another. And then one more.

  Before I knew what was happening, his tongue was in my mouth, and his hand was inching up my thigh to cup my pussy. He moaned softly into my mouth, and I grabbed his wrist, holding his hand away as he tried to push me for more.

  “I can’t do an evening like this if I’m turned on,” I whispered.

  “I can make you come right here. Get it out of your system.”

  I shook my head and pushed his hand away before pinching my knees together. “Down, boy.”

  Owen backed off but gave me a devilish grin. “The ride home, then. You’d better prepare yourself, Angel.”

  “You’d better make sure the prize is worth the hype.”

  Owen roared with laughter and slapped his knee.

  Then, in classic Owen fashion, he proceeded to harass me for the duration of the drive to the hotel. When we pulled up to the valet, he shrugged off his boyish humor, got out of the limo, and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  There were people milling around outside in their best evening wear. Most of them were smokers. Some were photographers. The cameras started flashing when Owen offered me his arm and I got out of the car behind him. I made sure my dress fell to the floor perfectly, and then I let him lead me up the stairs to the front doors.

  We slipped inside, and he put his hand over mine on the crook of his elbow. “So this is normal? The photos? The stares?”

  I was aware of the looks we were getting from everyone we passed. I was used to them. Owen, however, was not. He already must have felt totally out of place, and the curious stares we received from everyone we passed weren’t helping.

  “Just ignore them,” I told him. “They can’t help themselves.”

  Owen held his chin up as we made our way into the ballroom of the hotel where the gala was being held. He kept his cool and didn’t fall victim to the typical slack-jawed admiration newcomers always portrayed when they came to an event of this caliber for the first time. Instead, he acted like he belonged there, and he kept his poise as I introduced him to a few friendly faces.

  After picking up some drinks at the bar and wandering through the cluster of tables to find our seats, Owen leaned toward me to whisper in my ear. “These people have no idea they’re talking to a Lost Breed.”

  I smiled. “No. But they know you are not one of them.�
�

  “How so?”

  “Your scars. The way you hold yourself. Your hands.”

  “My hands?” he asked curiously.

  I nodded. “Calluses. Bruises. Scrapes. You have the hands of a man who knows what it is to work hard for a living. It is curious to them.”

  “And to you?” he asked.

  “I think it’s sexy as hell.” I winked.

  Chapter 15

  Owen

  I shouldn’t have been surprised to discover that our table was at the very front of the room, center stage. Evangeline’s name was scrawled in cursive on an elegant name card upon her plate and on the spot beside her. Clearly, she’d had a plus one but had not called ahead to give them a name.

  I wondered if she had confirmed these plans before she and I ran into each other the other day. Or perhaps shortly after. Maybe she expected to be sitting beside the guy in the suit she’d been on a date with the evening I ran into her on the sidewalk.

  Lucky her.

  Instead, she was here with me. The guy in the room who was at least half a head taller than everyone else with a crooked nose, un-botoxed wrinkles around his eyes, and busted-up hands—something I had not been self-conscious about until she pointed it out to me.

  Then again, she thought it was sexy.

  I considered taking my jacket off and rolling up my sleeves when we took our seats. The room was warm. Very warm. But every other man in the place still had their jacket on, and I didn’t know what sort of expectations I had to adhere to. Since I already stood out like a sore thumb, I figured I’d play it safe and keep my jacket on.

  Evangeline swept her napkin off the table and draped it over her right thigh. I followed suit, and she nodded at me as if to say I was doing well.

  I felt like a boy on his first day at a new school after being homeschooled.

  I reached for the rum and coke I’d ordered from the bar to calm my nerves.

  “What do you think so far?” Evangeline asked.

  “I can’t form an educated opinion until I’ve tasted the food.”

  She giggled and shook her head at me. “Of course. I should have known better. Every man’s judgment starts at his stomach.”

  “Right you are, Angel.”

  The ballroom of the hotel was an exquisite space. It was the sort of room one would expect to see in the background of bridal magazines, with its Greek-style columns in the corners, massive ballroom chandeliers, and warm-toned cream walls that offered a blank canvas for all events with varying decor.

  The decor for this evening was simple and clean. The centerpieces were low vases full of greenery so that each person at the table could see across to the other side to encourage discussion. The tables were draped in white linens that matched the covers over the chairs, which were finished off with an olive-green satin ribbon on every second chair.

  The most beautiful thing in the room by a landslide was Evangeline herself.

  As she sat beside me and lifted her glass of white wine to her lips, I spared a glance at the other tables around us. Women peered over their shoulders and bowed their heads together to whisper quietly to one another while their eyes remained on the pretty girl beside me. Men stared just the same, practically drooling in the presence of her beauty.

  Was Evangeline aware of all these glances? Of the whispering behind her back? And if she was, did it bother her?

  Evangeline put her hand on mine. “I’m going to get up there and make my speech while dinner is being served so I can get this over with. You’re all right to wait here for me?”

  “Break a leg, Angel.”

  She smiled, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and swept gracefully from her chair to the stage, where she took the microphone and faced the crowd of nearly one hundred and fifty people milling around down below.

  Her eyes flicked to me, and I gave her an encouraging nod.

  Evangeline’s smooth, rich voice filled the ballroom. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you are all having a wonderful evening. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Evangeline Snow. I’m Frank’s daughter, and I’m here on his behalf to welcome you to this special event and say thank you for your presence, your support, and your generosity to my father’s Clear Ocean program.”

  A smattering of applause followed her words, and I followed suit, clapping loudly as she smiled down at all of us.

  Evangeline continued, and I was caught up in her words as someone pulled out a chair on my other side and took a seat. I was aware of other people sitting down across from me. Three in total, including the one who’d sat down beside me.

  “My father wishes he could be here himself to speak to each and every one of you this evening so he could thank you personally, and he apologizes for not being able to make it here. But as most of you know, duty calls. He is a very busy man, and he’s working hard to make a difference in our oceans. Something that would not be possible without all of you.”

  Evangeline’s voice faded into the background when someone tapped my shoulder.

  I turned to the side, thinking I might be blocking their view, and found myself sitting beside the man Evangeline had been on a date with the evening I caught up to her on the sidewalk.

  What was his name again?

  Mason?

  Marvin?

  Mark?

  He was dressed in a dark blue suit with a white shirt underneath. He didn’t smile when I gave him a curt nod in greeting. Instead, he lifted his chin and leaned forward on the table. The men across the table from me did the same and rested their elbows on the surface.

  And everything in my mind clicked. They were here to try to intimidate me.

  I dared myself not to laugh.

  “Gentlemen,” I said, leaning back in my chair and draping an arm over Evangeline’s temporarily empty seat. “Can I help you with something?”

  The two across the table from me looked similar to one another. They were probably brothers. Their hair was sandy blond, slicked back, and shiny with heaps of product holding it in place. They had tanned skin, which I wondered if they’d earned in the great outdoors or a tanning bed, and the buttons of their shirts were popped open at the top, revealing perfectly smooth, most likely waxed skin.

  I raised my eyebrows when none of them spoke and turned to the dark-haired guy beside me. The one in the blue suit with the dark eyes. “What was your name again, man?”

  His eyes narrowed into slits. “Matthew.”

  “Right,” I said, rolling my eyes like I should have remembered. “Apologies. How’ve you been? Enjoying the party?”

  “I’m not here for small talk, Hot Shot.”

  Hot Shot? What was this, sixth grade?

  I fought the smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth and shrugged one shoulder. “What are you here for then?”

  Matthew leaned in a little closer. So close I could see the pores on the bridge of his nose. “You don’t belong in a place like this, man. And you sure as hell don’t deserve to be here with a woman like Evangeline.”

  I chuckled. “I know. I still can’t quite make sense of it myself.”

  This caught him off guard a bit, and Matthew exchanged a look with his buddies across the table. Then he set his glare back on me. “She has class. And a guy like you is only going to take advantage of her. All you want is to get in her bed and have your way with her. But let me make something perfectly clear. I’m not going to let you tarnish her. So you’d best clear off if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Tarnish her?” I snorted and let my arm fall from the back of Evangeline’s chair. I sat up a little straighter and didn’t lean away from him as he tried to encroach further on my space. “She’s not a piece of jewelry, you ass. And she can make her own decisions.”

  “Sometimes, a woman can’t spot a bad seed, even if it’s right in front of her.”

  Anger rolled in my gut. Hot and ravenous and enough to make my fists clench. I forced myself to relax. “I’d say I’m surprised to learn that
you’re a sexist pig, but here I am, completely unsurprised.”

  “You arrogant piece of—”

  I waved him off dismissively. “You’re just butthurt because she prefers a man who’s a bit rough around the edges over a dude who gets a manicure once a week.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that?” Matthew seethed.

  I shrugged. “Hey. You’re the one who came over here and started this shit. You’re the one who got personal. I’m just pointing out the obvious. I mean, look at those cuticles. They’re beautiful.”

  Matthew tucked his fingers into his palms and glared at me. “I suggest you shut the hell up before you find yourself in over your head.”

  Chuckling, I nodded at the two men across the table. “What? Are you and your little Power Puff Girls gonna take me outside and teach me a lesson?”

  The three of them shifted restlessly.

  I undid my jacket buttons. “Listen. I suggest the three of you go back to your seats. I’m here to support Evangeline, not get in a five-second fight with a bunch of sniveling rich boys with inferiority complexes. Scram.”

  Matthew pointed a finger at my chest. “I gave you a chance to walk away. If you had her best interests in mind, you would take the opportunity I’m offering and leave. She can do better.”

  I leaned back in my chair once more, spreading out like I was in my own damn living room. “You’re absolutely right. She can do better. I’m a lucky man.”

  Matthew opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as another round of applause washed over the ballroom. Then, just seconds later, Evangeline was taking the seat beside me and looking around the table at the three men.

  She smiled tight-lipped at Matthew. “Hi, Matthew. It’s good to see you.”

  His eyes flicked past me to her, but his hard expression never wavered. “Evangeline. Nice speech.”

  “I would say thank you, but I doubt you caught a word of what I said, since the two of you were talking through the whole thing.”