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Anni chuckles. “You’re so sweet!”
“I prefer hot, but we can go with sweet for now. I’m Remington. Son of a lord and grandson of an earl and currently holding a lordship title. One hundred and ninety-five in the line to the throne of the commonwealth and have the perfect looks and wealth to go with it.”
“Wow, that's impressive. I’m Annika. No royalty, though.”
“She’s mafia royalty,” Cecily waltzes to her side, holding a container, and Ava occupies her other side. “Stay away from her.”
“You’re so beautiful and pure, and I have to warn you away from this den of vipers, Anni.”
The three of them start arguing again, and Annika finds her way to Creighton’s side. “Hi there.”
He doesn’t reply since he’s eating. Creigh takes that seriously.
Superseriously.
“I’m Annika. You are?”
No response. It’s like she’s not standing in front of him. So she waves her hand, and when he doesn’t show a sign of recognition, I expect her to give up. That’s what most people do.
However, Annika grins and sits beside him. “This dish must be so delicious if you’re this engrossed in it. Can I have a bite?”
“Get your own,” he mumbles after swallowing.
“I can’t really eat the whole plate. It looks fried, so a bite would do.”
“No,” he says point-blank.
“Just a little—” One second, she’s reaching for his container, and the next, he’s pinning her against the back of the sofa by her collarbone with one arm as he continues eating with the other.
“I said, no.”
“Okay.” Her smile falters. “Can you let me go?”
“I don’t trust you not to come after my food again, so you have to either stay in this position or leave.”
“Got it.”
She actually remains still, watching him the whole time.
“Cray Cray!” Remi shrieks and pulls Anni from beneath his hold. “What are you doing being rude to our American angel on the first meeting? Didn’t I teach you manners?”
“It’s okay.” Anni laughs. “I think he doesn’t like people coming after his food.”
“Yeah, he’s weird like that.” Remi pushes a container her way. “You can have this one.”
“What’s it called?”
We all stare at her dumbfounded and even Creightonpffts between bites.
She stares at him. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“She’s American, guys,” Ava tells us.
“Yeah,” I echo.
“Yeah, American,” Cecily says as if it’s an insult.
“I’m actually half Russian.” Annika stares between us with an awkward smile.
