Three other couples joined them. The foursome barely acknowledged anyone outside their group. The other couple, an elegant pair in their early sixties, were sniping at each other and then fell into glaring silence as they knocked back glass after glass of champagne.
“Good thing we like each other’s company,” Ronin said.
“No kidding.”
The waiters kept the bubbly flowing in addition to bringing bottles of wine to the table.
Amery picked up the linen card—embossed in the exact same color of the tablecloth—that announced the evening’s five-course menu:
Butternut squash soup with chive oil and radish seedlings
Pan-fried trout croquettes, breaded with blue corn flour and topped with tomatillo relish
Roasted beet carpaccio with seared goat cheese and mâche greens
Grilled filet of beef with caramelized shallot/red wine reduction, truffle-infused potato rösti, white asparagus, and morel mushrooms
Golden Colorado dessert, ripe Colorado peaches soaked in Colorado’s gold-medal-winning red wine, topped with yogurt sweetened with honey
This menu was a little different than Applebee’s.
Ronin leaned closer. “Problem?”
“Not exactly sure what some of the ingredients are in these dishes.”
“Me either. I’m just glad one of the courses isn’t sushi.”
After the soup course was delivered to everyone in the room, a man stepped up to the raised dais and began to speak.
She tuned him out and talked to Ronin. “So, the guy earlier that monopolized your time? What did he want?”
“To convince me to teach a private kickboxing class for new Bronco recruits.”
“What’d you say?”
Ronin looked affronted. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I am not a kickboxing instructor.”
“Saying no should’ve taken, like, two seconds. Why’d he keep you so long?”
“He mistakenly assumed everyone has a price and all he needed to do was charm me, or throw more money at me. Or threaten me and I’d fall in line.”
Her eyes widened. “He threatened you? Was he just an idiot or did he have a death wish? Did you demonstrate jujitsu pressure points so he understands why ninjas like you don’t teach kickboxing?”
“I said something like that, but more diplomatically.”
“Darn. I’d like to see you in ass-kicking mode.” Amery turned her head. Their mouths were only a breath apart.
The moment lingered and became even more perfect when Ronin murmured, “I am so crazy about you.”
As the second course was delivered, Amery glanced up to see Tyler studying her. His gaze flicked to Ronin and then back to her.
That’s right. This hot, successful man is crazy about me. So suck it.
More boring speeches were given by more people she didn’t know while the third course arrived.
During a lull in the festivities, Tyler addressed Ronin. “Has the Platte Valley restoration project affected your business at all? That’s where you’re located, right?”
“We’ve been there ten years, so urban renewal is finally catching up to us. It’s always good to have other businesses—regardless if they’re retail or service or entertainment industries—in any area. But I haven’t seen a direct impact positive or negative on my business.”
“There is one negative thing about people flocking to the area,” Amery said, shoving aside her salad plate only to have it immediately whisked away by a server.
“And what’s that?” Tyler asked.
“Parking. It is impossible to find a decent parking place around the dojo. Wednesday night I swear I had to park six blocks away.”
Ronin kissed the back of her hand. “I’m glad limited parking choices aren’t keeping you away from me.”
So what if Ronin poured it on a little thick in front of her ex? She’d do the same thing if she crossed paths with Naomi.
“How did you two meet?” Chantal asked with an air of boredom.
“We had to exchange names after he threw me on my ass.”
Silence at the table. Even the cliquey foursome stopped whispering and stared at them.
“That isn’t even funny,” Chantal snapped.
Amery flashed her teeth. “But it’s true. Sensei Black took me to the mat in a self-defense class I signed up for at his dojo.”
“It’s more accurate to say Amery knocked me to my knees the first time I saw her.” Ronin kissed her hand. “I literally tried to sweep her off her feet to even things up a bit.”
The foursome laughed, as did the other couple.
Tyler wasn’t amused. Chantal alternated between shooting jealous daggers at Amery and Ronin and glaring at Tyler.
Amery probably shouldn’t have signaled for more champagne as they waited on the main course.
Ronin kept watching her, an odd look on his face.
“What?”
“I want to act on my every dirty impulse right now. It’s making me reckless—and I’m never reckless in public.”
A feeling of power rolled through her. “Is it making you hard?”
He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Put your hand on my groin and find out for yourself.”
Her first thought was no way. She’d reach over and everyone at the table would know what was going on.
Her second thought was she’d never been the type who’d do something like that in public.
So that’s precisely why she decided to do it.
Amery dropped her napkin and reached down to pick it up. When she returned upright, she set her hand on Ronin’s knee, allowing her hand to inch up his thigh.
He’d left his napkin covering his lap so she could slip her hand beneath it. When she had to move slightly to reach him, she leaned in. “Who is sponsoring these awards tonight?”
“Colorado Athlete’s Foundation in conjunction with Rocky Mountain Sports Coalition.”
Her fingers reached the crease of his thigh. “Have you ever been nominated for one of these awards?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not a team player. I prefer to play one-on-one. It’s more . . . intimate.”
She felt his gaze burning into her. She met it head-on as her hand reached the promised land, scraping her fingernails up and down his rigid shaft. “Is it hard to get nominated?”
The only change in Ronin’s face was the ripple of his jaw muscle—but even that was there and gone. “Very hard.”