Dragon's Claim (Brides for Beasts: Dragons Book 3) by Candace Ayers & Kym Dillon

Author:Candace Ayers & Kym Dillon [Ayers, Candace & Dillon, Kym]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lovestruck Romance
Published: 2024-02-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Grace

I frown up at Ritter. "Everything okay?"

He tries to smile but doesn't quite pull it off. "Nothing for you to worry about. Something I need to handle. Would you mind waiting upstairs in my office?"

I make a face. “I’d rather wait down here.”

Ritter glances around and hesitates before he finally says, “Alright.” He steers me toward the main bar where he gestures to one of the bartenders.

The moment the bartender sees Ritter, he scurries over. “Dylan, keep an eye on my wife, please.”

At the word wife, Dylan's jaw falls. He looks like he's in shock, but he recovers quickly. "You got it, boss man."

I flash Ritter an incredulous look. One that says, are you really asking your bartender to babysit me?

Ritter smiles reassuringly. "Humor me. I have great security, but I don’t like leaving my wife alone in a crowded club. I promise I'll be quick. Please just stay put."

I stifle the urge to roll my eyes.

"Well, since you said please so nicely..." I tease.

Ritter kisses me swiftly—more of a headbutt with his lips really—before striding off purposefully into the crowd without a backward glance.

I slide onto a stool.

"What'll it be, beautiful?" Dylan flashes me a crooked, slightly flirtatious smile.

I smile tightly back. "Just a club soda, thanks."

"You got it."

In no time, he plunks my fizzing drink on a napkin in front of me.

"Ritter Amshein got himself hitched." He shakes his head slowly. "Who’da thunk it?”

At my blank look, he chuckles. “No one who knows Ritter would believe this. Guy's an infamous bachelor."

I stiffen, something uncomfortable twisting in my gut. I latch onto his words though. "What do you mean ‘infamous bachelor’?"

Dylan shrugs, using his rag to wipe off the already pristine bartop. "I just mean he's not the marrying type. Too busy charming the panties off every chick in town, you know?"

Yeah, I’m starting to get a picture and I really don’t like it.

Oblivious to my turmoil, Dylan continues conversationally, "When Ritter strolls in here, he usually has a couple of hotties draped all over him in seconds." He shakes his head wistfully. "Man's got game, that's for damn sure."

"Used to have game," I correct tersely.

“Yeah, right,” Dylan snorts. “If you believe that, I got some swamp land…” he seems to suddenly realize what he's saying and to whom he's saying it because his words cut off abruptly and he flashes a sheepish grin.

Okay, I get that bartenders are supposed to be chatty, entertaining, and all that, but this guy is grating on my very last nerve. I swivel my stool and scan the crowd hoping Dylan will take the hint I’m no longer interested in this conversation.

He doesn’t.

“All I’m saying is," Dylan continues breezily, "Ritter Amshein with a ball and chain? Not buying it. Any woman trying to tie that man down is in for a rude awakening.”

Fury simmers in my blood because not only is he being rude as hell, but the flippant bartender is voicing my darkest fears out loud—that I won’t be enough for Ritter.

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