I Slept With My Fiancé’s Uncle

Simone Brooks stood stiffly beside Phoenix Robinson, forcing a composed smile as she faced a table full of unfamiliar men who all seemed to be sizing her up. A prickle of discomfort crawled right up her spine.

"Hey, Phoenix, Simone's here! Come on, sit. We've been waiting on you guys," called a sharp-featured young man, about Phoenix's age.

Simone recognized him instantly. Drew Hawthorne had been Phoenix's college buddy. They'd made plans to move out here together after graduation, but Phoenix bailed at the last minute, and Drew went it alone—reportedly crushing it.

Drew steered them to their seats, and as Simone swept her gaze around the room, she locked eyes with a pair of icy dark ones. The man lifted an eyebrow slightly before looking away, like she wasn't worth the stare.

Phoenix apologized to the table, "Sorry we're late. Got stuck on the road. I'll grab three coffees later to make it up."

Everyone chuckled, waving it off like no big deal.

Drew pulled out a chair for Simone and, glancing at her outfit, asked, "Simone, you cold? Need a blanket or something?"

She waved a hand. "No thanks, I'm good."

A strange, prickling weight settled on her, and she flicked a glance at Houston Martinez just as he lifted his mug, his gaze sliding away from her legs. He took a slow, casual sip of his coffee. Wrapped in her coat, most people probably wouldn't have noticed, but Houston definitely knew—she was wearing the exact same thing she'd worn when she knocked on his hotel room door last night.

A hot wave of mortification washed over Simone.

Once seated, she realized Houston was right next to her; that crisp, masculine scent mixed with the faint smoke of his rare-brand cigars drifted over, dragging back memories she'd rather not have pop up here.

Drew poured Phoenix a drink and ribbed him, "Early flight, but you roll in late. Did you sneak in some alone time with Simone or what?"

Phoenix's eyes darted uneasily. "What're you talking about? Our luggage took forever, and traffic was a beast. We haven't seen each other in ages, but I can get sweet with my girlfriend anytime. Why make a fuss?"

"For real?" Drew's face was all exaggerated disbelief. "You both look like you lost a fight. Especially Simone—she looked like she's struggling to walk straight."

Phoenix turned to check out Simone's legs at that, and she tugged her coat tighter, smiling a little too brightly. "Yeah, it's a bit chilly."

Simone's nerves were cut short when someone across the table pulled Phoenix's attention away. "You two are cracking everybody up. One looks completely wrecked, and the other just plain frustrated."

It was obvious the first dig was playing off Drew's jab at Phoenix, while the second was aimed dead at Houston. Every eye swiveled to Houston, who stayed stone-faced, calmly tipping back his coffee.

Phoenix laughed, shooting Houston a look. "My uncle here has been 'unsatisfied' since forever. I've never seen him with a woman. If any of you know some killer single ladies, hook him up. The family's been on his case hard."

"Hey, Houston, sounds like your nephew doesn't know you at all. Tell him about your conquests—your list of women is taller than the Alps," another friend joked.

Houston didn't flinch. He replied flatly between sips, "Is there no food here to keep your mouth busy?"

Simone bit her lip to hold back a laugh, some of the tension in her shoulders loosening.

"But seriously," some other guy added, "last night, I heard a woman in your room, Houston. She was loud, too. I thought I was dreaming some wild crap. It went on from maybe nine till two or three in the morning before it got quiet. Made the night feel like a year."

Simone's head dipped lower. Nine o'clock was exactly when she'd walked into Houston's room.