Bailey watched me approach with relief written all over her pretty face. I probably should have stepped in sooner. Hard to gauge sometimes when I was trying not to go full caveman. If I let myself, I’d never leave her side. Or let any other guys look at her. Hence my holding back.

I nodded at him. “Nice to see you.” Jesus, man. I could smell his cologne from where I stood.

“Carter,” he said. “Long time no see.” He extended his hand, offering me a firm handshake—way firmer than necessary. Were we doing this now? Maybe we could pull out a ruler next.

“I see you’ve already met my girlfriend.” I slid an arm around the curve of Bailey’s waist, giving her a little squeeze.

Understanding dawned on his face. “I have. You’re a lucky guy.”

“The luckiest.”

His gaze darted back and forth between us like he was trying to find his way out of a dead-end street. And, for him, this absolutely was.

“Well,” he said, “I should go mingle. But it was nice meeting you, Bailey. Good to see you again, Carter.”

He didn’t mean that last part one bit.

“Same to you.” And neither did I.

With a nod, Greenfield turned and walked around us, making his way to the bar to find his next potential target. I had to admit, I was curious about whether he would succeed at pulling someone else’s date tonight. Hell, maybe he could rescue Morrison’s date.

“Thanks.” Bailey glanced up at me with a little smile. Her eyelashes looked impossibly long, framing her round hazel eyes in a way that I couldn’t tear my attention from. Sometimes, like right now, I got a little lost in her.

She shifted her weight, wincing and bringing me back to reality. “My feet are getting tired. Not used to heels. Can we sit down?”

“Sure.” With my hand on her lower back—a little lower than was probably appropriate—I guided her around the tables until we reached ours in the middle. Everyone had left, probably to dance or get drinks, leaving it vacant. I pulled out Bailey’s chair and pushed it in for her before sinking into mine beside her.

I slung my arm along the back of her chair, resting my hand on her shoulder. She leaned in closer, nestling against me, and her vanilla-spice perfume hit me like a drug, doing bad things to my self-control. That dress wasn’t helping, either. It hugged every curve in a way that made me jealous of the fabric. I wanted to hike it up and bend her over the table.

“What did Greenfield say to you?”

“Um…He asked me to leave with him.”

Yup. Pretty on-brand for Greenfield.

I nodded. “I figured.”

“Why?” She angled her head, giving me a questioning look.