Page 268 of A Vicious Love

“I can see that.”

“The blue plates are mine. That means they’re safe.”

I looked at the silver trays under their glass domes, the neat rows of little triangles, the staff standing behind the table with blank professional faces and folded hands. Then I looked back at the plate in her hand. The Bellemeres had built an entire family game around hiding fillings inside bread and guessing what they were, while my fiancée had a fish allergy. An inspired piece of dynasty madness.

“No plate is safe,” I said.

Her expression changed, because she heard the edge in my voice and mistook it for anger aimed at her. That irritated me more than the sandwiches. I set the plate down, caught her chin between my fingers, and turned her face back to mine.

“Eyes on me.”

Her lashes lifted.

Good girl.

“I’m not telling you off. I don’t want you dead.” The color in her cheeks faded slightly. I kissed one cheek. “Where’s your pen?”

She hesitated.

“Sienna.”

“I didn’t bring one down.”

“You came to a mystery sandwich event without an EpiPen.”

Her gaze dropped, and I tilted her chin again. “No. Eyes.”

She looked back up at me.

“I mean it. I’m not angry at you.” I looked over her shoulder. “Reeves.”

Reeves appeared near the edge of the umbrella shade before anyone else had finished turning their head. He already had the spare auto-injector in his hand, because the man had enough sense to anticipate danger.

I took it from him and placed it beside Sienna’s scorecard, close enough for her to reach, far enough from the sweating lemonade jug that condensation would not touch it.

Sienna stared at it. “You had one?”

“I have them everywhere.”

Sienna looked at the pen, then at me. “That’s very sweet.”

Apparently I had won points by remembering basic medical safety. I pulled the chair back and sat, then caught her by the waist and drew her onto my lap. She gasped softly, hands landing on my shoulders.

“Jamison, we’re in public.”

“They were staring before. Now they have a reason.”

She settled across one thigh, her white wrap brushing my wrist, her bare knee warm against my leg.

I picked up the first triangle from her plate. Cucumber, mint, pale cheese. Already offensive. I bit off the corner and chewed while Sienna watched me with growing amusement.

“You’re testing each one?” she asked.

“Yes.”

No fish. I held the remaining piece to her mouth. “Safe.”

She stared at it, then at me. “You’re feeding me now?”