I walked straight into what had to be the most awkward fucking dinner party known to mankind with the woman I was in love with, her husband, his fake fiancé, a baby that looked a helluva lot like him, my former cellmate, and his pregnant wife. Someone needed to call Dr.Phil right about now because I had a feeling we were going to need him.

To be honest, when I came back in from having a smoke and saw them all sitting around a table, I'd taken a second look and checked for a camera, thinking this had to be a fucking joke.

And the blonde I'd been dumped beside was freaking me out with all the staring. I was beginning to think she might have an issue with her eyes because there was no way she was daring enough to watch me like she'd been doing without their being a medical reason for it.

I had no issue with single-mamas, and I could appreciate how sexy she was, but I wasn’t interested.

In anyone.

Unfortunately for me, my dick and my heart seemed to be connected by a chord and the only one I wanted to put it inside was the woman sitting across from me with the ring on her fourth finger.

Fuck my life.

Why the hell had I agreed to come? This was fucking bullshit. Standing and watching her make a total fool of herself. I wanted to stalk over there and steal her back from her husband who had come home just a minute too soon.

Hope looked miserable during dinner as she sat between Teagan and Jordan. He wasn’t speaking to her.

In fact, he barely looked in her direction the entire fucking time. He couldn’t make it any more obvious that he didn’t want to be here, with us, and she looked mortified.

I wanted to reach across the table and hold her hand. Tell her that it wasn’t her fault and she had nothing to be embarrassed about. I wanted to tell him to pull his finger out of his ass and fast.

He focused his attention on the blonde and the baby, and bristled whenever Hope touched his arm or rubbed against him.

I would gladly trade seats with him.

She kept trying to get his attention and he kept ignoring her.

It didn’t matter to Hope that she had all of my attention without trying.

I was consumed in the woman. Every frown, smile, and lonely look. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

I hung on every word she spoke, even when she talked about shit I had no clue about, I still listened, the sound of her voice like a blanket of warmth around me.

Fuck me, it took everything I had to stay in my seat and not lean across the table and smack some sense into him. I wanted to tell her to stop begging. He wasn’t bothering so why should she?

Because she loves him, a voice inside my head hissed.

Unable to stick another second of watching her being ignored and underappreciated, I leaned forward and patted her hand to gain her attention. "How's the book coming along?'

"It's amazing, Lucky," she replied, her voice a little slurred. I wasn't surprised by that. She'd spent more time drowning her sorrows at the bar during dinner than she had at the table. And like usual, he didn’t fucking take notice. "I'm almost done."

I wasn’t sure if it bothered me that she only called me Hunter when we were alone or with or friends, or if I liked that it was something personal between us.

Either way, I was back to being Lucky tonight.

"Knew you could do it, HC," I replied, feeling a huge swell of pride fill my body.

"Oh yeah?" She laughed and leaned forward and dropped her face in her hand. "I feel like I should give you like fifty percent of the… the…" She frowned and twirled her finger in the air, and in that moment, she reminded me of a blue-eyed version of Pocahontas with her brown curls straightened.

"Royalties?" I offered, smiling at how fucking cute she was when she was wasted.

"Yes!" She nodded and laughed. "That's the word."

"I don’t want your money, HC,"I shot back, smiling.

"Oh yeah?" she snickered. "Then how else am I supposed to slay you for your help?"

I raised a brow. "Slay me?"

"Yeah." She nodded, eyes wide as saucers. "Pay you."

"So, are you married?" a voice interrupted us, causing Hope to drop her gaze to her plate.

"No." I turned to look at the blonde whose name I hadn't taken the time to memorize and forced down the irritation I was feeling. "I'm not."

"Really?"

"Really," I deadpanned.

"Girlfriend?"

"No."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty."

"Wow," she replied, smiling. "I was convinced a man like you would have been snatched up and dragged up the altar years ago."

A loud snort escaped Hope, and I turned to grin at her. "Oh, that's funny, is it?"

"I'm sorry," Hope snickered as she swayed in her seat, waving her wine glass around recklessly. "I'm just laughing at the mental image of you being dragged up an altar." She took another mouthful of wine before turning her gaze on Blondie. "Lucky's not religious."

"Don't you think you've had enough?" I heard Jordan say, finally giving Hope some attention.

She looked up at him with a guilty expression. "I’m thirsty."

"You're drunk," he corrected, staring down at her. "You need to stop."

I watched him take the glass out of Hope's hand and hadn't realized I'd been moving until Noah's elbow dug roughly into my side. "Don’t get involved, Lucky," he said in a low, warning tone. "If you love her as much as you say you do, then you'll sit your ass down and let her work this out for herself."

I glared at him for the longest fucking moment as I strived to find the composure I needed to walk the fuck away from this. Noah was right. Of course he was right. Didn’t make it easy though.

"Oh look, the band is starting," Teagan offered then, sensing the tension at the table. She pointed to where a four piece were doing a sound check in the far corner of the room. "I love these guys."

I tried to concentrate on the band as they began their set, I really fucking did, but it was impossible to do with Hope sitting less than three feet from me, looking like she was about to burst into tears. Every instinct inside of me demanded I snatch her away from him – save her from this absolute bullshit. But what I wanted didn’t matter in this. I couldn’t fuck this up for her. I didn’t want to jeopardize her future, whatever path she chose to take.

Because hurting this woman was the last thing I wanted.

Oh Christ, I needed to get out of here.

I needed to stop looking at her.

I needed a fucking drink.