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I leaned back in my seat, listening to Poppy embarrass the hell out of Cameron, and it made me smile. Harlow tipped her head back and laughed, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Jax watching both of us with a speculative look in his eye.
Chapter 16
Harlow
I hadn’t laughed so hard in months. Maybe even longer. It wasn’t the alcohol, because I stopped after two. Ian stopped after one beer, leaning in at one point to tell me he’d be fine to drive us home.
Drive us home, I thought once, with only the slight edge of panicked laughter ringing in my head. Our home. His and mine.
I was already struggling to keep Feelings and Thoughts in a locked box, but it didn’t help anything when he did things like that. Or when he rushed upstairs to make sure I was fine when the lights went out.
Gawd, if that man had any idea how close I was to doing something stupid when I ran into him. Like oops I dropped my towel stupid.
The only thing that stopped me was, you know, my sanity. Rational thought. All those pesky little things. Being at the bar helped. The shit-giving at the table was relentless between three Wilder Siblings, and the addition of Ivy, who wasn’t intimidated by Jax and Ian in the slightest.
The music got a little bit louder as the evening passed. The guys told stories from the job sites that had us all laughing. Cameron and Ivy traded good-natured teasing that always had a slight undercurrent of foreplay, which made Poppy cover her face and groan. The whole night was just so freaking pleasant. They asked about my books and what I was working on.
“Right now, I’m plotting, and I sent a first chapter to my agent to see what she thought before it goes to my editor.”
“And?” Poppy asked.
I grinned. “I think her exact words were, I am obsessed with everything about this.”
“That’s great,” Poppy gushed.
Under the table, Ian nudged my leg with his, and my stomach flipped. I kept my focus on my drink but pressed my knee back into his thigh.
Jax narrowed his eyes. “You write killer books, right?”
I laughed. “I don’t typically call them that, but yes.”
“Doesn’t that shit freak you out? I’d have to sleep with the lights on if I was writing in some psycho’s head.”
“I know it doesn’t make sense,” I said, “but thinking through all the what-ifs and why someone would do what they do has always made me feel … safer. I’m not naive about the way people think. If there’s a worst-case-scenario outcome to any given situation,” I lifted my glass, “you can trust a crime writer to have thought it through.”
“Give me an example,” Ivy said.
With my pointer finger, I tapped my chin while I thought of something. I sat up, leaning closer to the table, elbows propped on the surface. “Okay, so when we moved into Ian’s, I chose the smaller bedroom closer to the stairs, even though Sage expected to have that room.”
Ivy’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
“If a murderer comes upstairs, he’ll likely choose to go into my room first.” I sat back in my chair and spread my hands out. “Boom, I’ll shank him in the kidneys with the knife I keep under my pillow.”
“I love it,” Ivy breathed.
“You what?” Ian said.
Jax blinked at me repeatedly. Poppy’s mouth hung open.
Cameron leaned toward Ivy. “Please don’t get any ideas,” he whispered loudly enough that we all heard him.
“You have a knife under your pillow?” Ian said again. He was staring at me like he’d never seen me before in his entire life.
I smiled innocently. “I lived in New York City as a single woman for a very long time. I know how to defend myself, okay?” Then I patted the side of my purse. “I’m always packing something that could do some damage.”
Jax eyed my purse like it might explode. “Note to self. Don’t piss her off.” Then he cocked a brow at Ian. “And you better not be sneaking into her room at night. You might get stabbed.”
My face went unnecessarily warm. “No one is sneaking into anyone’s room, okay? And I don’t just … whip it out as soon as I hear a noise.”
