I Slept With My Fiancé’s Uncle

Simone Brooks had used the excuse of insomnia to ask Houston Martinez for a glass of wine, and after she'd downed it, they'd ended up doing something that went on and off for hours. She couldn't quite recall when it finally stopped, but she guessed it was around the time someone had mentioned earlier.

At the mention of it, the table erupted in lively chatter. Phoenix Robinson's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I always thought Uncle wasn't into women, so I kept my distance all these years."

He'd cleverly defended Houston, affirming the man's interest in women while casually explaining why they'd kept their distance.

Houston set his coffee cup down with a deliberate clink, curling his lip. "Truth is, I do find women bothersome—they're expensive." He put extra weight on the last word, his gaze flicking briefly to Simone.

"So what? Last night's lady was on the house?" one of the friends laughed.

Without missing a beat, Houston raised an eyebrow. "Strictly speaking, she was the one who hired me."

"Ooh!" The group couldn't hold back. "Where was she from? How'd she hire you? What did she look like?"

Houston ignored most of the questions.

Then another buddy chimed in, "Since it was free, would you introduce her to us? We haven't had fun like that in ages."

Simone choked on her coffee, coughing.

Houston dropped the bite of pasta he'd been about to eat, then lifted his gaze casually. "This pasta isn't that great. I'll take you somewhere better next time."

Though his words seemed to be about the pasta, everyone caught the drift. If the flavor was so disappointing, he sure had savored it for hours last night.

Phoenix chuckled, adding, "If the flavor's not great and you still indulged for hours, imagine what a better dish would do—you might stay all night." He cracked the joke while draping an arm around Simone's shoulders, completely oblivious that he was poking fun right at her expense.

Houston had zero desire to keep the topic going. He swept a cold glance around the table. "Are we eating or leaving?"

Simone felt like she was sitting on pins and needles. She pushed Phoenix's arm away and stood up. "I'm going to the restroom."

Once she was out of the private dining room, Simone could finally breathe. Another minute in there and she might have suffocated.

She headed toward the restroom, pulling out her phone to text her friend Haisley Gutierrez about the absurdity of sitting commando at a table full of men.

Haisley must have been busy because she didn't reply right away.

Simone sent a voice message. "Do you think there's a chance Houston has some weird kink, like keeping his partners' underwear? How else would mine go missing in such a tiny space?"

Right after she sent it, Haisley's message popped up: "I think you should go buy a pair of underwear right now."

A light bulb went off in Simone's head.

She shut her phone and stepped out—the restaurant was conveniently located in a mall, which meant there had to be a place selling underwear nearby.

But as she exited the restroom, there was Houston, dressed in black and white, casually leaning against the entrance railing and leisurely smoking a cigarette.

Beneath the glow of the massive crystal chandelier, his broad shoulders and narrow waist were thrown into sharp relief, making him appear even more striking.

Simone froze, wanting to duck back, but Houston spotted her immediately.

This time, his gaze didn't waver. He watched her as if he'd been waiting for her to come over and say hello.

Simone forced a smile and walked over, blurting, "What a coincidence, Uncle Houston. Taking a smoke break too?"

The instant the words left her mouth, she realized how ridiculous they sounded. Smoking too? What did she mean, 'too'?

A spark of interest lit up Houston's calm eyes. "Not a coincidence. I was waiting for you."

Simone was thrown. "Waiting for me? Why?"

Houston stubbed out his cigarette, flicking it precisely into the trash bin opposite, and with hands in his pockets, he loomed over her. "Why are you still wearing last night's clothes?"

She'd expected that question. Simone pretended to pout. "What else could I do? I left my room key in your room. Couldn't get back to change."

Houston's eyes narrowed. "So?"

He nodded toward her legs. "Is that why you went out in neutral gear?"