could only goggle. Then she laughed so hard her nerves dissipated. And that, she realized, was probably why Tessa had said what she had.
Then again, Tessa knew a lot about dicks. So maybe she was being supportive and telling the truth.
“You know, if you were actually as oversexed as you pretend to be, you’d have dropped dead from exhaustion years ago,” Livi said, still giggling as she pushed open the door.
They made it two steps inside before stopping.
“Oh, boy,” Tessa murmured. “Now there’s a treat I wouldn’t mind showing a trick or two.”
Livi mentally echoed that with a purr.
Oh, boy, indeed.
The room was filled with men, all so gorgeous they blurred into a yummy candy store in Livi’s mind. It was a good night when a woman could choose between a gladiator, a kilted highlander and a bare-chested fireman.
But Livi only had eyes for the superhero.
Deep in conversation with another guy, he might have been sitting in the corner, but he still seemed to be in command of the entire room. He had a power vibe.
And he was a super hottie.
His hair was as black as midnight, and it brought to mind all sorts of fun things to do at that hour. The supershort cut accentuated the shape of his face with its sharp cheekbones and strong jawline. His eyes were light, but she couldn’t tell the color from where she was standing. Livi wet her suddenly dry lips and forced her gaze lower, wondering if the rest of him lived up to the promise of that gorgeous face.
Her heart did a slow thumpity-thump as her eyes meandered over his broad shoulders and down muscular arms encased in a tight blue shirt. She sighed her appreciation at the definition of his pecs beneath the bright letter S on his chest.
The man of steel. She wondered if he was hard all over.
Then he grinned at something his companion said.
And Livi got shaky. Her knees melted, her thighs trembled and nipples sprang to attention. That was an orgasm smile. She’d heard the girls at the club talk about those during training sessions, but she’d figured strippers exaggerated everything from their bumps to their grinds.
But now she knew.
All he’d have to add to that smile was an offer and she’d climax for sure. And she’d bet that alone would be better than the two years of sex she’d had with her ex.
“C’mon,” Tessa said, her tone as impatient as if Livi had made her wait an hour instead of a few lust-filled seconds. Whether it was because she knew her prodding wasn’t enough to get Livi’s feet moving or because she just loved the attention, Tessa raised her voice, along with her tray, and called out, “Who’s hungry?”
All eyes turned their way.
Tessa preened.
Livi felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Her bubble of lust burst under a dozen or so pairs of eyes and panic took its place. Deep breath, she told herself. And another. By the third her nerves were under control and her public persona firmly in place.
“Roz asked us to bring food,” she said in the same cheery tone she used to tell women to grab a pole and straddle it like a stallion. She tilted her tray to prove they weren’t really crashing the party.
“Food and guests—we’ll take them both.”
“C’mon in and join us.”
“The party just got interesting.”
Tessa took the warm chorus of welcomes at face value, sashaying across the room to begin introducing herself like the social butterfly she was.
Livi was more like a caterpillar than a butterfly, though.
Nerves danced in her stomach, keeping time with the buzzing in her ears. But Livi forced herself to cross the room. Chin high, smile sassy, she knew nobody looking at her could see her anxiety. She’d had years of practice at looking way more confident than she’d ever feel.
She didn’t let herself look toward the corner where Super Hottie was sitting, in case he returned her interest. He probably hadn’t even noticed their arrival. But still... It was difficult enough to sashay into a room full of strangers. She didn’t need to be self-conscious, too.
“Roz didn’t have to go to any trouble,” said a sweet-faced brunette dressed as a sleek black cat as she hurried forward to meet Livi. “She already provided enough food to feed, well, the Navy.”
The woman gestured to the crowd in case Livi didn’t realize the male half of the room were sailors out of uniform.
But Livi didn’t have to be told.
One, the bar, Olive Oyl’s, was in Coronado and catered to the naval base. Two, Roz didn’t close off half her bar for anyone but sailors. And three, well, just look at the guys. They were the epitome of all things military, from their fit bodies to their buzz haircuts to their powerful demeanor—even the guy dressed like a duck.
“Roz figured it’d been a while since dinner and thought people might be hungry. She has a need to feed,” Livi said with a smile and a shrug. “She brought cupcakes and lasagna to my catered wedding, just in case, and I quote, ‘the caterer sucked and the cake was boring-ass vanilla.’”
She bit her lip. Should she have said ‘ass’? Maybe she should have just kept quiet. She never knew if her words would be taken right or not.
But the other woman’s appreciative laugh eased her discomfort. Livi set the tray on the table and uncovered it, then stepped back as a dozen people attacked the egg rolls and nachos.
“Looks as if Roz knew what she was talking about,” the woman remarked, her expression slightly stunned.
“She always does.” Roz had even told Livi not to bother changing her last name, since the marriage wouldn’t last long enough for the paperwork to get filed.
“I’m Eden,” the cat said, holding out her hand. “You must be Roz’s niece.”
Livi blinked, wondering how she’d guessed. Most people didn’t believe them when they were straight-out told, since the only shared trait—physical or personality-wise—between Roz and Livi was their height. Few people knew them both well enough to realize how alike they were, from their taste for green tea to their love of animals.
Aha.
“Eden the vet?” Livi asked. “Purveyor of furry addictions and cuddly friends?”
“Oh, you met Pedro?” Eden exclaimed.
At ease now, Livi fell into a delighted discussion about her aunt’s new three-legged cat.
But her nerves still fluttered, like the wings of a nagging butterfly. Not about the crowd. She’d found someone to talk to. Nope, these were sexual nerves. The kind that were inspired by curiosity and fed by desire. The kind she hadn’t felt in, oh, about a million years.
Unable
