belonged to Clay when Andrea hastily sidestepped his advance.
“Oh, Asher,” she said crisply. It was her business voice. “I didn’t realize you were even here.”
“Just arrived. Had to close the gallery,” he said evenly. “You know how it is.”
Clay loudly cleared his throat, stood up as straight as possible, and stared down at the guy with pure fury in his eyes. He wasn’t at a bar. He couldn’t throw a punch. But he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to be physical with this guy. It was pretty obvious that anything he threw the douche bag’s way would crush him.
But this guy had gotten Andrea to leave that bar with him. He’d taken Andrea home and fucked Clay’s girl on the night when she was supposed to have left with him. He knew he probably shouldn’t lay his entire attack on this guy’s doorstep, but that didn’t stop him from doing it.
Andrea took one look at Clay’s face and stepped easily into his arms. She put her hand on his suit, like she wanted to hold him back. Her smile was cautious. “Asher, this is Clay. Clay…Asher.”
Asher glanced uncertainly between them. He probably didn’t know that Andrea had a boyfriend. None of Clay’s conquests knew about her. Except, well, Liz, but that was an accident when he had run into her at Hilton Head. Not that he’d gone through with it with Liz.
When neither of them moved, Andrea kept talking, “Asher owns a gallery uptown. I’ve found some great pieces there. Jamie was featured there once.”
Clay didn’t take his eyes off of Asher. Andrea was filling him on information he already knew. The girl never mumbled, so she must be nervous as shit to have them standing in the same room, breathing the same air.
Andrea glanced up at him with a pleading look on her face. It was brief. She would never show her emotions for that long. He just knew that she wanted him to fucking say something.
“That right? Art galleries seem to be all the rage right now,” Clay drawled.
“And Clay is…he’s an attorney,” Andrea said, clearly not thinking his comment was sufficient. “He just finished up as a clerk at the Supreme Court and is now at the top firm in D.C.”
“Attorney,” Asher said, staring him down. “Heard they’re a dime a dozen.”
Clay grinned. “That’s not the only thing I’ve heard is a dime a dozen.”
Clay was in full-on standoff mode. He’d never encountered someone who would do this. Not that Andrea wasn’t sought after by any means, but the former conquests were usually fleeting. They certainly didn’t show up when he was around, and they didn’t have the balls to tell him he was a dime a dozen. He’d been with Andrea for ten years officially—fifteen, if all the summers at Hilton Head were included. Asher was infringing on his territory, and he could go straight to hell for all Clay cared.
“But it’s all right,” Clay said.
Clay tugged Andrea closer to him and teasingly brought his lips down on hers. She squirmed for a minute, clearly uncertain about doing this at her event under the close scrutiny of the last guy she had been fucking. But she eventually gave in and kissed him back.
“Andrea,” Asher said with a pointed cough.
“You did know she had a boyfriend, right?” Clay asked, not letting Andrea say a word.
He could hear a slight groan next to him, but he ignored her. He was too focused on the look of confusion on Asher’s face.
“You’re her…boyfriend?”
“Obviously.”
“Since when? Two or three weeks, Andrea?”
Clay laughed derisively. “Weeks? Try years. But it’s interesting how you think you can talk to her when she’s been mine since we were thirteen.”
“Clay,” Andrea whispered, “just let it go.”
Asher was looking at Andrea now, and Clay could see the guy was hurt by his words. Good. The poor sap. Thought she’d actually cared about him and wasn’t just another game.
“No, he needs to know, baby,” Clay told her. “She’s mine. So, whatever you’re
“Oh, Asher,” she said crisply. It was her business voice. “I didn’t realize you were even here.”
“Just arrived. Had to close the gallery,” he said evenly. “You know how it is.”
Clay loudly cleared his throat, stood up as straight as possible, and stared down at the guy with pure fury in his eyes. He wasn’t at a bar. He couldn’t throw a punch. But he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to be physical with this guy. It was pretty obvious that anything he threw the douche bag’s way would crush him.
But this guy had gotten Andrea to leave that bar with him. He’d taken Andrea home and fucked Clay’s girl on the night when she was supposed to have left with him. He knew he probably shouldn’t lay his entire attack on this guy’s doorstep, but that didn’t stop him from doing it.
Andrea took one look at Clay’s face and stepped easily into his arms. She put her hand on his suit, like she wanted to hold him back. Her smile was cautious. “Asher, this is Clay. Clay…Asher.”
Asher glanced uncertainly between them. He probably didn’t know that Andrea had a boyfriend. None of Clay’s conquests knew about her. Except, well, Liz, but that was an accident when he had run into her at Hilton Head. Not that he’d gone through with it with Liz.
When neither of them moved, Andrea kept talking, “Asher owns a gallery uptown. I’ve found some great pieces there. Jamie was featured there once.”
Clay didn’t take his eyes off of Asher. Andrea was filling him on information he already knew. The girl never mumbled, so she must be nervous as shit to have them standing in the same room, breathing the same air.
Andrea glanced up at him with a pleading look on her face. It was brief. She would never show her emotions for that long. He just knew that she wanted him to fucking say something.
“That right? Art galleries seem to be all the rage right now,” Clay drawled.
“And Clay is…he’s an attorney,” Andrea said, clearly not thinking his comment was sufficient. “He just finished up as a clerk at the Supreme Court and is now at the top firm in D.C.”
“Attorney,” Asher said, staring him down. “Heard they’re a dime a dozen.”
Clay grinned. “That’s not the only thing I’ve heard is a dime a dozen.”
Clay was in full-on standoff mode. He’d never encountered someone who would do this. Not that Andrea wasn’t sought after by any means, but the former conquests were usually fleeting. They certainly didn’t show up when he was around, and they didn’t have the balls to tell him he was a dime a dozen. He’d been with Andrea for ten years officially—fifteen, if all the summers at Hilton Head were included. Asher was infringing on his territory, and he could go straight to hell for all Clay cared.
“But it’s all right,” Clay said.
Clay tugged Andrea closer to him and teasingly brought his lips down on hers. She squirmed for a minute, clearly uncertain about doing this at her event under the close scrutiny of the last guy she had been fucking. But she eventually gave in and kissed him back.
“Andrea,” Asher said with a pointed cough.
“You did know she had a boyfriend, right?” Clay asked, not letting Andrea say a word.
He could hear a slight groan next to him, but he ignored her. He was too focused on the look of confusion on Asher’s face.
“You’re her…boyfriend?”
“Obviously.”
“Since when? Two or three weeks, Andrea?”
Clay laughed derisively. “Weeks? Try years. But it’s interesting how you think you can talk to her when she’s been mine since we were thirteen.”
“Clay,” Andrea whispered, “just let it go.”
Asher was looking at Andrea now, and Clay could see the guy was hurt by his words. Good. The poor sap. Thought she’d actually cared about him and wasn’t just another game.
“No, he needs to know, baby,” Clay told her. “She’s mine. So, whatever you’re
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