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“Have you ever tried whiskey?” he asked, already guessing her answer.
“I have.” Charlotte made a face. “Don’t like it.”
Torr held his glass up.
“Try this.”
She did, making a funny face that told her the expensive vintage had done nothing to change her assessment. “Hmmm.”
When he leaned closer to take the glass back from her, their legs touched. Torr waited for Charlotte to pull back, but she didn’t.
And neither did he.
“Guess who I ran into today,” Alessandra asked the group, now all seated and eating their salads. Torr had little appetite, especially for a salad made by Kenton Morley. The scent of jasmine, maybe a hint of bamboo, brought him back to the last time he’d smelled that very same scent.
To Noir Nights.
“Tyler?” Charlotte took a sip of wine.
“Good guess, being that you were there.” Alessandra looked at Toni. “He spouted some nonsense about the burglary catching him by surprise, although Zach is still very much employed by him. He also said Zach has been acting strange. Almost as if he’s afraid of . . .” She looked around the room. “Well, all of you.”
Maybe because I told him he’d forfeit his life if he ever again spoke about the shop or the Cheld?
“Ugh, can we talk about something more pleasant than my ex?” Toni asked, scrunching her nose.
Lawrence didn’t look thrilled about the subject of choice either, not that Torr blamed him. They both had a protective streak a mile wide when it came to the people they loved.
“Allie, tell them about your research.”
At Kenton’s prompting, Alessandra told the group about a new project at work, a collaboration with another professor commissioned by the Stone Haven Visitors Bureau. The history of a small town like this one, barely a blip on the map, was hardly fascinating. But he kept a straight face, for his siblings’ sake.
In truth, his attention was very much elsewhere. He pressed his leg closer to Charlotte’s, wanting to confirm the touch had not been accidental.
She responded by clearing her throat.
Torr had never been a cautious man.
Transferring his drink to his left hand, Torr slid the right one beneath the table.
Time to find out if Charlotte truly had been under the influence of a few glasses of Death in the Afternoon last night. If ever there was a time for her to be cautious, it would be here, at the dinner table with her friends.
Lawrence is going to kill you.
Torr shrugged off the thought. His brother was welcome to try.
His hand moved with purpose, only stopping when it had reached Charlotte’s upper thigh. And then he waited for her reaction.
Other than an intake of breath Torr would have missed had he not been watching her closely, she didn’t react at all. Nor did she push his hand away.
He took a slow sip of whiskey while simultaneously running his hand down her leg, toward her knee.
“Sounds exciting,” Toni said about Alessandra’s research, although any fool could tell she didn’t mean it.
Alessandra didn’t take offense. “History can be fascinating . . .”
He stopped listening altogether, leaning closer to the table to mask his movements. He nearly lost his impeccable composure when Charlotte’s mouth lingered just a bit too long on the tines of her fork after she popped a crouton inside.
She did it on purpose.
