Clarke’s father smiled, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
“He likes you,” Athos said once his father was gone. “I like you too. I didn’t want to. I intended not to. But fuck it, you’ve made that impossible to do.”
Smiling, she laughed. She felt happy. Why did it matter to her that his father and brother liked her? She didn’t have an answer. She only knew that it did.
“And how did I manage that?”
“By knowing racing. Being good at what you do. And being real—not bullshitting.” He paused. “And by being good for my brother.”
Good for Clarke?
She swallowed. “You know … this thing … we’re doing.” She paused, drawing a breath. “It’s not really—”
“Real. Yeah. So I hear. Do you want a drink? I mean a real drink. Not some cocktail made with Jamaican okra and Namibian prickly pear fruit.”
She laughed. “Okay.”
“Bourbon?”
She grinned. “You know, I didn’t want to like you either. But fuck it, you’ve made that impossible to do.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Ceci and Clarke
Ceci
Ceci followed Clarke’s brothers out onto the terrace, bundled up in her coat and enjoying the chilly nip in the air.
“We’re going to do some skeet shooting,” Aramis said. “You know how to shoot?”
Porthos shoved him. “Why are you asking her that? She told us she was good with a rifle at the Huntingtons’ party. Shit, she was dressed up as Annie Oakley.”
Ceci, Aramis, and Athos said nothing. Athos held up his hand. “Just give him a minute. He’ll get it.”
“Get what?” Porthos asked. And then he blinked. “Oh … right. Whoops.”
They all laughed. It seemed the only one left in the dark was their baby brother.
Does Clarke really think I don’t know he was the man in that mask?
Just then he walked up.
“Come on, Leo,” Porthos shouted, as the brothers left the terrace. “You’re coming too, right, Ceci?”
Clarke yelled back. “We’re coming.”
She grabbed his arm and shook her head.
“You don’t want to?”
“No, I’d rather we both stay here.”
His eyes lit up like he’d suddenly caught her meaning. He grinned. “You did the same thing at your father’s house. You think you need to protect me?”
“I’m just trying to be a good friend.”
“Friend? Is that what you are?”
