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Jeff slung an arm around her shoulders as he led her away from the crowd. “What time do you think this party’s wrapping up?”

Sophie glanced at her watch. “Oh! Crap! Any minute. I have to go talk with the coordinators. We only have this picnic area reserved until six o’clock.”

She started to dash off, but Jeff grabbed her arm.

“Have dinner with me?” he asked.

“Oh, um…” Sophie glanced up into Jeff’s classically handsome face. She’d always liked him, and the old Sophie might have even had something of a crush. But now he seemed so…bland.

“Come on, Soph, it’s not a marriage proposal. Just food,” he teased.

“Sorry, Jeff. She already has plans.”

Jeff and Sophie both spun around to see Gray standing a few feet away. She raised a challenging eyebrow at him, but didn’t break eye contact. What game was he playing now?

“Oh. Sure, sorry, boss,” Jeff said in obvious puzzlement.

“It was, um, part of our bet,” she said nervously to Jeff, hoping to avoid any awkward explanations. “I said I’d buy Mr. Wyatt dinner if he won.”

“That’s not why we’re having dinner,” Gray said, walking toward them.

“Okay, okay,” Jeff said raising his hands in bemused surrender. “I’ll let you guys work out whatever you need to. See you Monday.”

“Jeff…I…” Sophie said awkwardly, as he began to walk away. Jeff waved a hand at her as though dismissing the entire episode.

“Don’t worry about it, babe.” He winked and then spotted the cute receptionist. “Yo, Rachel! Wait up!”

“Hmm, he moves fast,” Gray said blandly.

“What was that about?” she hissed at the gloating man beside her.

“Let’s go, I’m starving.”

Her jaw drop

ped. “Just like that? And what do you mean, you’re starving? I had Seattle’s best caterers here. Didn’t you eat?”

“I don’t want that stuff, I want my cooking,” he said as he began storming toward the parking lot.

“Snob,” she said. But she found herself trailing after him, trying to figure out whether this was a continuation of their manufactured “friendship,” or a follow-up to the kiss.

Hell, maybe it was just a caveman routine. He didn’t want her, but didn’t want Jeff to have her either. His whispered words echoed through her mind again, and she nearly stumbled at the memory.

I think you’re mine.

She skidded to a halt as reality sunk in. “I need to go make sure clean up is under control.”

He turned around. “So make a phone call.”

She narrowed her eyes.

He narrowed his right back. A challenge.

“Okay, I’ll go with you, but I’m not helping you cook,” she said.

“As if I’d let you anywhere near a knife.”

“Is this like a…friends’ dinner?”

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