“I know. Isn’t it fun?”
“Absolutely.”
They traded diabolical grins that coaxed a low chuckle out of Quentin.
“Are you hungry?” Michael asked Reese.
“Aren’t I always?”
He smiled. “Let me fix you a plate, get you off your feet.”
“No. Sit,” she said as he started to rise. “I’m not an invalid. I can find my way to the kitchen. You boys finish your talk.”
“Naw,” Quentin drawled, “take your man with you. He’s disturbing my meditation.”
“Meditating?” Reese swept an amused glance around the crowded restaurant. “Here?”
“See, that’s the beauty of meditation. You can do it anywhere.” Quentin grinned wickedly. “Not unlike—”
Michael scowled. “Baby, why don’t you head on back to the kitchen? I’ll be there in a minute.”
Reese laughed, wagging her finger at Quentin before waddling off.
Michael transferred his gaze to Quentin. “So we’re straight, right?”
“About Lexi?”
Michael nodded. “If you’re ready to be that someone, then make your move. But if you hurt her, I’m gonna have to kick your ass.” He flashed a quick, sharp-edged smile that left no doubt in Quentin’s mind that he’d make good on his threat. And then he was gone, easily catching up to his wife.
Quentin frowned after him, even as he grudgingly admitted to himself that Michael had every reason to question his intentions toward Lexi.
“Excuse me, handsome. Is this seat taken?”
Quentin glanced over his shoulder.
A woman stood right behind him.
Out of habit he looked her over, swiftly cataloging her assets. Slender and attractive, light-skinned with long hair and a pretty smile. Nice.
But she wasn’t petite, he noted. And she wasn’t curvy enough. She didn’t have gypsy eyes that a man could drown in. Or a lush mouth made for sin. And her voice wasn’t a soft rasp, laced with a lazy Southern drawl that made her sound like she’d been napping in the sun. Quentin knew that if this woman ever called him “sweetie,” it wouldn’t have the same effect on him.
Because she wasn’t Lexi.
Lexi.
He got abruptly to his feet.
The woman stared at him as he peeled off some large bills from his wallet and dropped them onto the counter. “Drinks are on me, beautiful.”
“Are you leaving?” she asked, sounding disappointed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Alone?”
Quentin smiled to soften his rejection. “Alone.”
But he wouldn’t stay that way for very long.
