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“We’re waiting on you two,” they heard someone yell.
“Go ahead without us,” Griffin yelled back.
Aine giggled. “We should go in.”
“You’re right. The faster we eat, the faster we can be alone again.”
“I’m not that hungry, so it won’t take me long,” she confessed.
“Me neither. Not for Thanksgiving dinner, that is.”
Chapter 9
Mantis, Alegria, and Dutch
“You should’ve told me,” Mantis said to Razor when Alegria and Dutch walked in the front door.
“They didn’t know you’d be here either,” Razor answered, although Mantis already guessed as much based on the look on both of their faces.
Dutch walked straight over to him, while Alegria was waylaid by the group gathering around her at the front door.
“Connecticut?”
“Whatever.” Mantis walked away, but Dutch followed.
“She isn’t doing very well.”
“Then you should take better care of her.”
Dutch scrubbed his face with his hand. “She needs you.”
Mantis was livid, more because Dutch was pulling this shit in a room full of people than from what he was saying. Granted, no one could hear them, but if Mantis did what he wanted to do and slammed his fist into Dutch’s face, all eyes would be on them.
“You don’t think I knew you wanted her? Now you’ve got her. Be thankful and leave me the hell alone.”
When he went to get a plate, Dutch didn’t follow, and for that, Mantis was thankful.
The man, or men, he was pissed at more than anyone else were Razor and Gunner, but he got it. If they’d told him Dutch and Alegria were coming, he would’ve left, and they both knew it.
“We’d like to propose a toast,” said Razor, holding up his glass. “If we could have your attention for a minute.”
“We should’ve waited until everyone was eating and was quiet,” said Gunner, raising his glass too.
“Yeah, well, they aren’t eating until we make this toast, so they better pipe down.”
Once everyone stopped talking, Razor looked around the room. “Everyone got a drink? If not, my beautiful, smart, gracious wife and her equally amazing twin will bring you a glass.”
Mantis stepped forward and took a glass of red wine. He swirled and sniffed, recognizing the Burgundy right away. The Tollot-Beaut from Chorey-lès-Beaune was one of his favorites. Manon’s too. In fact, he’d bet she’d recommended it.
The anger he’d felt at Dutch seemed to fade away when her eyes met his from across the room. He raised his glass. “To you,” he mouthed, took a drink, and then turned back toward Razor.
“Everyone ready?”
The group collectively responded with murmurs of assent.
“First of all, I want to thank all of you for being here with us today, and to Alegria, for having a case of this fabulous wine delivered yesterday.”
All eyes turned to her, including his.
