A punch was thrown.

The old man looked at the both of us blocking the table of our wives and friends and gave a loud huff before turning. But just as we thought he had his tail between his legs, he spun around to flail a wild haymaker punch. Luckily for Bill, he was prepared, taller, and sober unlike the drunk, old man.

The entire restaurant gasped and then roared in laughter when the old man swung and stumbled to fall flat on his face. He was out cold.

Bill rolled the **** drunk onto his side and we walked back to our table, letting the resort security to deal with their unruly client.

If the other men in the restaurant weren't already jealous of us with six beautiful women, they definitely were after the girls thanked us with kisses for being "knights" defending their honor.

Brooklyn whispered in my ear that she and Daniela want to thank Bill and I after dinner.

I grinned at the thought of the other four women would thank us as well.

"Compliments of the resort," our wait announced, arriving with two bottles of Champagne in ice buckets, "for the inconvenience you just experienced." The waiter popped open the first bottle and poured to the girls' cheers.

We already forgotten about the old man and looked forward to what will happen after dinner.