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Once they give us the spiel on the specials and leave the table to give us some time to decide, Jude stands up from his chair and lifts his fresh drink in the air. “I’d like to propose a toast to our little Lexi for kicking some serious as…butt at her Mathletes competition.”

A peal of giggles leaves Lexi’s lips as she grins up at her uncle. “You were going to say a bad word, weren’t you, Uncle Jude?”

“I was,” Jude answers and eyes her knowingly. “But how about we ignore that and focus on the fact that you’re awesome and we’re all so proud of you?”

“I second that!” Wendy, Jude’s mom, chimes in and lifts her glass in the air.

Everyone else at the table—all three of Jude’s brothers, his sister Winnie and her husband Wes, and a woman whose name I still don’t know who has jet-black hair and appears to be with Ty—along with me, join in on the toast, holding our glasses in the air and congratulating Lexi on winning her competition.

The girl did great; there’s no doubt about that. She squashed her competitors like a shoe smashing a couple of tiny ants on the sidewalk. Hell, ninety percent of the questions she answered, I didn’t even understand.

When Jude said she’s a fucking genius, he wasn’t wrong. His niece’s brain is an incredible thing. It’s almost scary that she’s this smart and only in elementary school. Watch out, world once she’s a full-blown adult.

“So, Sophie, tell me a little about yourself,” Jude’s sister prompts and props her elbows on the table, fully invested in whatever I have to say. “With the way you were cheering for my daughter, I’m certain you’re a blast. Plus, you can somehow tolerate Jude, which is a miracle in and of itself.”

Jude chokes on a laugh beside me. “You say that like I’m some kind of lunatic, sis.”

“Because you are,” Winnie retorts with pursed lips. But then, her attention is back on my face, ready for me to spill the tea about myself.

“Well…I’m twenty-eight. I run an event planning business. I have two sisters, one of whom is my identical twin, Belle. And, yeah, I don’t know. That’s about it, I guess.” I shrug and take a sip of my iced tea. “I’m kind of devastatingly boring when I think about it.”

“Now, that’s not true,” Jude chimes in, and when I look over at him, his eyes spark with the kind of mischievousness that I’ve come to know as trouble. “You love things like playing Texas Hold’em and the Girl Scouts, and you always tell the best damn prison stories.”

My eyes might as well be flying saucers when those words leave his lips, but Jude’s mouth just keeps chugging along, his lips far too amused with what he’s currently telling his sister about me.

“You’re fun to grab a drink with at The Champagne Bar. Have a great sense of fashion. So much so that a lot of people would probably want to steal your clothes,” he says and wraps his arm around the back of my chair, squeezing my shoulders playfully. “Honestly, sis, she’s outright lying. Soph is the opposite of boring.”

I take a long blink and move my gaze back to Winnie. The furrow in her brow says it all and spurs the need for me to explain.

“I hope you realize that half of the things he just said are total crap.”

“Oh, I know.” Her laugh makes her neck elongate in the most elegant way. “Trust me, I have over three decades’ worth of experience with this jackwagon. But I’m thrilled that he now has you to call him out on his bullshit. It’s a relief, to be honest.”

Jude just grins, and when Winnie’s focus gets pulled to the other end of the table, I reach out and discreetly pinch my fingers into the meat of his muscular thigh.

Ouch, he mouths, and his fingers find their way into the sensitive spot just below my armpit that he knows makes me giggle.

Which I do, and then, I shove him away from me before we cause a scene. Or I piss my pants. Or both.

“Stop being crazy,” I whisper toward him. “Or else you’re going to make me look crazy in front of your family.”

His arm is back around my shoulders again, and he leans over to whisper into my ear, “Oh, baby, you have nothing to worry about because everyone at this table is fucking nuts. Especially,” he adds and nods purposefully toward his three brothers, who sit a few seats down. “Those bastards right there.”

“You got something to say, bro?” Ty retorts with narrowed but teasing eyes. “Because if you’ve got beef, I have no problems settling it promptly.”

“Hey now, boys,” Jude’s mom announces on a sigh. “If you make a scene at my favorite steakhouse in this city, I won’t hesitate to make you pay.”

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