Jack had recently hooked up with Pepper, the younger sister of their third partner, Parker, and this entire dress-up, drunken revelry was her fault. No matter where she went, the woman knew how to have a good time and haul others along with her. She’d joined DreamMakers, the dating service-slash-assistance for clueless bros, or simply put, the romantic Dates “R” Us company the three of them had established four years earlier.
She also bossed around just about everyone she met, including her older brother, her boyfriend, and when she could, Dean. Good thing she was cute. And hot. Damn hot, but that was a direction Dean refused to let his thoughts wander.
Instead, he did a quick recon of the area, his grin widening as he matched costumes with the rest of the DreamMakers gang.
Parker wore a red cape, the long blond hair he’d let grow out hanging around his shoulders. He held a massive hammer in one hand, and his fiancée’s hand in the other. She was the only one not in Avenger gear, her dark hair braided over her shoulder, a shimmering blue dress hugging her dynamite curves.
“Well, aren’t you the perfect princess?” Dean leaned in closer and offered Lynn a kiss on the cheek. “Anytime you want to ‘Let It Go’, give me a call.”
Parker poked him in the chest. “Hands off. Go find yourself some Pepper.”
Dean jerked upright. “What the—?”
Lynn’s eyes widened as Parker realized what he’d said. “Pepper Potts,” he hurried to clarify. “Jeez, not my sister, you hound dog. It’s bad enough I have to watch Jack make googly eyes at her.”
That’s not all Jack and Pepper were doing. Or Lynn and Parker. And suddenly, even as he was entertained to discover the other two full-time DreamMakers employees were dressed as Captain America and a female Hulk, Dean felt a little out of it.
How, over the course of one summer, had they gone from three single, much-in-demand bachelors to two sets of nearly-weds and him, one lone ranger, a shining example of virility for men everywhere?
And he’d eat his fucking man-card before he’d confess to anyone, even himself, that at moments? He fucking hated that he didn’t have someone in his life.
He had plenty of women, only not a special someone. There was no one who he saw on a regular basis except for Suz, who totally didn’t count. Theirs was the first platonic relationship he remembered having with the female species since he’d figured out what to do with the equipment. Maybe he should reconsider their no-hook-up stance and make a play for her.
Maybe he should sign up for an online dating service.
Maybe he should…
Maybe he should go back and seduce the fuck out of Thumper One and Thumper Two, that’s what he should do.
He was about to excuse himself and put action to thought when he ran out of time. If Jack was Hawkeye, then the curvy redhead crossing the floor at high velocity toward them was Black Widow, a far more kick-ass and gorgeous version than the other two Dean had spotted when he’d first walked in.
And far more deadly.
Pepper marched straight up to him and shoved the god-awful mask he’d abandoned earlier against his chest.
“Hey, Iron Man, get your game face on,” she ordered.
“Good to see you, too, Pepper. I hope you don’t plan on ending your evening in a typical spider fashion,” Dean drawled, dangling the mask on one finger as he swung it back and forth.
Her eyes flashed. “I don’t know. You think Jack would object to being eaten?”
Jack choked on his drink, pulling himself together quickly. “Sweetheart, anytime you want to put your teeth into me, go for it.”
Pepper curled under his arm, winking mischievously before turning back to Dean. “Enjoying the party?”
“It’s great,” he lied, a huge smile on his face. Christ, he was going to sneak the hell out as soon as…
A goddess walked into the room.
And a god, but he barely glanced at the female Loki sashaying toward him. Dean peered around her, hoping for another glimpse of the woman in the low-cut silvery robe who had entered the room from the back door. She was in the middle of a group of laughing people, and he lost sight of her as the bunch of them turtled up and moved en masse toward the staircase leading to the second floor.
“Hey, Dean. You were supposed to be here earlier, you ass.” Loki, otherwise known as Susanna Jones, got in his face. Her blonde hair was braided into two long pigtails, and perched on her head was an exact replica of the enormous horned headpiece from the movie. For the rest of her costume she’d wrapped her enticing curves in black leather. Hell, if she’d had a whip she could have been many a man’s wet dream.
Only…
Dean was far more interested in the mysterious woman inching her way through the crowd and up the narrow staircase. At closer examination, her get-up looked more elfin princess than goddess. Her face was covered by the deep hood of her costume, but her body. God. She was draped from head to toe in silver, flashes of smooth olive skin strategically showing as her limbs moved, but the image was more enticing than if she’d been naked. He itched to strip away her layers. To find out what benevolent promises he could pull from her lips after he’d done a bit of worshiping.