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“Yes.” Merina raised her hand for a high-five and Rachel slapped her palm.
“Hey.” Tag gestured to his wide chest. “What about me?”
“You’re more like Mom than Dad,” Reese said. “Or, at least, you have her hair.”
Tag narrowed his eyes, but as per his usual, his expression was playful. Rachel, who sat next to him, ran her fingers through his long hair and cooed, “Taggart.”
He smashed his mouth against hers and Rachel giggled as she kissed him.
“He hates that name.” Merina elbowed Isa. “It’s too regal for him.”
“I can be regal,” Tag argued.
“Says the guy in cargo pants,” Reese put in.
“At least Rachel calls you by your given name,” Isa piped up on the end of a laugh. “Eli doesn’t like my name, so he calls me Sable.”
“Eli!” Merina clucked her tongue in reprimand.
Eli shifted uncomfortably. He’d grown more withdrawn as the clock ticked on. Isa couldn’t have been the only one to notice, which made her wonder if his family was used to him sitting silently while the rest of them chattered. She wanted to check on him, but from across the table, she couldn’t casually lean in and ask if he was okay.
“Sable. That’s sexy.” Rachel rested her head on one of Tag’s big shoulders and yawned. It was late, yet no one seemed eager to cut the evening short.
“Eli knows she’s sexy,” Merina, wineglass in hand, pointed at her brother-in-law. “I can see the glimmer in his eye.”
“I’m not glimmering.” Eli might not have been smiling, but the glimmer was there all the same. Isa liked being the reason for it.
There was a beat before Rachel filled the gap with, “What are your parents like, Isa?”
“My father is English. My mother is Spanish, but grew up in Greece. I’m a mixed bag.” She had her mother’s dark features, but her skin was a shade lighter than her mother’s deep olive due to her father’s fairer coloring. “They own Sawyer Financial Group, which I’m sure you’ve all heard of.” Murmurs and nods confirmed. “My father is professional and intelligent, and my mother works hard at both business and the business of being social.”
“Socialite,” Merina said, her tone not the least bit judgey.
“She’s a master,” Isa replied.
“I’ve met Helena. She’s both a socialite and an intelligent businesswoman,” Reese said approvingly. “You look like her.”
“Beautiful, he means,” Eli murmured. From across the table, they shared a heated look. She held his eyes for a few seconds. He looked away first. He was either wrestling with unnamed emotions or good old-fashioned fatigue. Leaning back in his chair, arms folded, eyebrows down, he didn’t look up for company any longer. Thinking she was doing him a favor, Isa spoke up.
“You know, it’s getting late.”
Every pair of eyes at the table landed on her.
“For me, I mean,” she quickly corrected. She faked a yawn.
Tag’s head turned to Eli, then Isa. “I see.”
“No, that’s not what I—” Isa started.
“Time to call it a night.” Reese interrupted, offering a hand to his wife.
“It’s okay, Isa. We’ve all been there. The infatuation stage.” Merina slipped her palm into Reese’s and rose from her chair gracefully—after all that wine, how she did anything gracefully was a mystery.
“We’re not used to Eli having anyone—I mean, anything—to do,” Tag teased. Rachel play-punched his bicep.
Isa wasn’t convinced any of them were out of the infatuation stage.
Eli stood, interrupting the banter with an announcement. “I assume everyone knows the way out.”
