Then Tavey turns slowly toward me.
“You have friends in the C-suite,” she says.
“It’s not like that.”
Her brows lift. “It absolutely looked like that.”
“FMJ’s informal.”
“Miller.”
“Lots of people are friendly with them.”
She gives me a long, deeply skeptical look. Then her mouth curves — that slow, reluctant smile that I have spent three years pretending doesn’t do anything to me.
“Wednesday?” she asks.
“It’s poker.”
“With the founders.”
“With three guys I’ve known for a long time.” I don’t say more. Does she need to know that Jonathon is my cousin? I doubt it would change howshe sees me, but it’s not a conversation I want to have with so many ears around, so I shrug it off.
My relationship to Jonathon isn’t that big a deal. We weren’t close growing up or anything. When I left the SEALs—after an injury that caused just enough nerve damage to make me a liability to my team—my dad suggested I reach out to him. I did. I think he was as surprised as I was that his company had a position where I could contribute. That would have been the end of it, if it weren’t for Ford. Since Jonathon isn’t close with anyone else in his family, Ford makes a point of including me. As if my presence will erode the wall Jonathon has built around himself.
All of which I’d be happy to explain to Tavey sometime when Devon isn’t within earshot.
She hums in a way that suggests this conversation is not over and tucks the information away with the same focused attention she brings to everything she finds interesting.
Which means she’ll probably bring it up again at the worst possible moment.
I find, to my considerable surprise, that I don’t mind.
Except then she says thoughtfully, “Do you think Ford seems off?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Just the last month or so he’s seemed … distracted.” Then she shrugs and grins. “I’m probably reading too much into it. I do that.”
For a moment, I let my gaze follow the guys as they make their way across the room. If something about Ford set off her Spidey-sense, then probably something is going on there. On Monday, I’ll stop by his desk and see if I can get him alone for coffee or a beer. As close as the three of them are, I suspect he doesn’t share everything with them.
God knows there are plenty of things I haven’t shared with even my closest friends.
Like how much I want this woman sitting beside me.
Sure, Nick and Cassie think they know. But you don’t say things like this out loud. Even to friends.
Looking at her now, noticing the way her eyes dance in delight, my world telescopes around me, narrowing down to just her. My whole world is right here in front of me. My future. My family, my home, my life. All of it.
I lean in close, the words right there on the tip of my tongue.I want you. Not just tonight. Forever.
But those words don’t make it out.
Fuck, even I have enough sense to shut that shit down. You don’t tell a woman you love her at a wedding reception where other people are makingspeeches and some dude is walking around in a full-length faux fur cape. That kind of declaration requires a modicum of privacy.
So instead of saying something stupid, I look around for a passing server. “Do you need another drink?”
She tips her glass, considering the remaining inch of blue cocktail with the serious expression of someone making an important decision. “Something slightly less… combustible, maybe.”
