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“Being cryptic. What are you trying to say, brat?”
With another eye roll, she pulled the corkscrew from the drawer and went to work opening the wine. “Look, I love you. And you enjoy playing with me. But I’d bore you to tears inside a week.”
“You would not.”
“Yes, I would. Wouldn’t I, James?”
From across the kitchen, James chuckled. “I’m afraid so, little brother.”
“You like brats,” Olivia continued, pulling wineglasses from the cabinet. “And I enjoy being a brat for you, when you’re here. But someone like me isn’t going to give you what you’re looking for on a regular basis.”
Bryant scowled into his empty whiskey glass. “Maybe I’m ready to settle down with someone I can just enjoy instead of someone I have to tame.”
Olivia let the subject drop with a noncommittal hum and focused on setting the table. Bryant, seemingly content to let it go for now, addressed the elephant in the room as they sat down to eat. “So, how do we make sure this doesn’t happen to Liv?”
She felt herself pale, but James reached over and squeezed her hand, lending her some of his strength. “I already have a shadow at every showing. I don’t drive myself anywhere, and I have cops watching me almost constantly. What more can we possibly do?”
Tapping his fingers on the tabletop, Bryant considered her. “Maybe you could do some more office work and less in person. Take some of the administrative stuff off of James’s plate, let him do the showings.”
“Absolutely not.”
James ran a hand over her hair, resting his hand at the nape of her neck. “Livvy, we’re just discussing options.”
Crossing her arms, she leaned back in her chair, glaring at Bryant. “Well, it’s not an option. You’re asking me to give up my career!”
“Stop being melodramatic, Liv,” Bryant scolded. “Nobody wants you to give up anything.”
“Fuck you, Bryant.”
She’d always heard the phrase ‘the silence was deafening’ but she’d never realized how true the saying was until that moment. Neither of the men at the table with her spoke a word, but their disapproval practically roared in her ears.
The apology couldn’t leave her mouth fast enough. “I’m sorry, Bryant. I didn’t mean it.”
“Apology accepted,” he said, but she could still see the muscles in his jaw working as he reined in his temper.
Tears burned behind her eyelids but she managed to blink them back. “I really am sorry.”
His expression softened. “I forgive you, sweetheart. I think all of our emotions are running high.”
Grateful for his understanding, she sent him a watery smile before tucking into her pasta. The men continued to discuss ‘options’ for keeping her safe, but she mostly tuned them out.
“James, why don’t you take Liv up to bed. I’ll clean up.” Without waiting for an answer, Bryant stood and began gathering dishes from the table.
“I can do that,” Olivia protested, hopping up to help him.
But as soon as she was on her feet, her daddy took her hand and pulled her toward the stairs. “Thanks, Bry,” he called behind him as he guided her up the steps.
“James, that was rude! Bryant is a guest.”
Letting out an uncharacteristic snort, James shook his head. “Bryant is family. And you and I need to talk.”
Her stomach dropped at the word ‘talk.’ “What kind of talk?”
“Just a talk, little one.”
When they came to the guest bedroom, she slowed, but the silent tug on her hand propelled her forward.
“I should check on Shannon,” she protested, glancing over her shoulder at the door.
