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“I’m going to order us some food. Do you have anything specific you want?” he asks, a smile still on his face.
I don’t know if that permanent smile is from our kiss or from my answer but it looks so good on him, I hope it stays.
“You know this place best, and I’m not picky. Whatever you get will be fine.”
He leans in and gives me a chaste kiss before heading toward his siblings who are standing by the ordering window with menus in their hands.
I turn my barstool back to the dancing patrons and tap my toe to the music. I take a fried pickle and dip it in some delicious homemade fry sauce.
Yum, these are so good. I’ve always passed over the fried pickles at pubs I’ve been to in Seattle but now I’ll have to give them a try in the future.
“Hi,” I hear a voice say just to the left of me. "Is this seat taken?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ryker
"You two looked good out there," Harper says as I walk up.
"Thanks for that," I tell her honestly.
She's like the best damn wingman that I didn't know I needed.
She lifts an eyebrow like she's surprised by my reaction.
"Happy to help."
Then she turns to my brothers. "Are we just going to order a bunch of different things on the menu and share?"
The guys all nod and start listing things on the menu that sound good.
A text dings on my phone, and I reach in my back pocket and pull it out.
Goddamn it… why the hell does she keep popping up?
I text quickly back. The last thing I need is Amelia causing problems between Juliet and me.
Shit, I guess she does.
My chest starts to tighten when I think about what Amelia might decide to do with that information. It wouldn't get her far with me, but if she's vindictive enough, she might use this to get me deported.
I don't give a shit about what happens to me, but if my ex ends up sending Juliet to prison for this, I'll never forgive myself.
At this point, it's Amelia's word against ours. Yet somehow, that doesn't bring me much comfort.
I block her number and then slide my phone back into my pocket.
I'm no longer hungry and the idea of losing Juliet to divorce has shifted to the fear of losing her to prison.
With Frank on leave and no new information from James, this text message from Amelia has me even more on the edge.
The need to be close to her—to show her how much I want her—to get her under me, blazes through my body.
When I look over to the beautiful woman waiting for me to return to the bar table, I see someone else at the table I don't recognize. And I don't like the way he's looking at her like he thinks he has a shot at taking her home.
A primal instinct to claim and protect what's mine from Amelia and the asshole sitting too close to my wife burns in my chest, and before I can think, I start making my way toward the table. I'm ready and willing to toss her over my shoulder and haul her out of here to get her alone.
The threat of losing Juliet feels too real.
