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“Ugh!” Misty grumbled, knocking his head away.
“And sorry to say, Frankie,” Rob went on, rounding the table and sliding into the empty chair next to his wife, “your chickpea salad might pretend to be healthy, but it doesn’t resemble salad either.”
“Rude.” Frankie pointed her finger at Misty’s brother. “I’ll have you know that mysaladis delicious and healthyandtasty. I toss it with organic oil, and anyone would be lucky to eat it.”
Everyone at the table froze, their forks in hand, bites suspended a few inches from their mouths.
“What?” Frankie said, gaze going from side to side.
Raven bit her lip.
Misty giggled.
Soph reached over a Rob, who was clearly trying to contain his laughter, and squeezed Frankie’s hand. “We know what you mean, honey, and you’re right, your sal—” She stopped, cleared her throat. “Yourrecipeis delicious. Thank you for bringing it.” A glance over to Raven. A deliberate change in conversation. “And thank you for breaking your cooking funk to bring the brownies. I’m addicted.”
Raven grinned. “The cooking funk is still fully in effect.” She winked at Connor, who was seated on the opposite end of the table, sandwiched between Auntie Pat and his mom.
Heaven help him.
Last she’d heard, Pat had been ranting about the round-a-bouts her town had just installed to slow down out of towners, and how it was cramping her driving style, while Martha—Connor’s mom—had nodded in solidarity, complaining about how confusing they were.
“I’d eat your salad,” came a deep voice, somehow rolling over the table in a way that carried from where Lex was sitting between Carter and Chance all the way down to the other corner. To Frankie. Passing each and every one of them on the way.
Which meant they all heard the sardonic reply—or at least that was what Raven assumed, considering the subsequent responses.
Carter and Connor freezing.
Misty and Chance’s eyes going wide.
Soph and Rob’s heads yo-yoing from Lex to Frankie, whose cheeks were bright red.Flamingred—telling Raven that she’d finally cottoned onto the joke, poor innocent woman that she was.
Maggie choked.
Lex shrugged. “Hell, I’d even toss it.”
Everyone froze.
No giggles. No trying to smother laughter. Maybe there were wide eyes and some freezing.
But…thatwas too far.
Especially when his mocking tone had Frankie wilting right in front of their eyes.
Raven didn’t do any of those things—didn’t wilt or freeze or laugh. She was instantly pissed, and she wasn’t going to swallow her tongue, not when her friend was clearly embarrassed and sweetly innocent. And don’t forget, obviously smitten, having spent the dinner looking down the table at him while pretending not to, getting tongue-tied when Lex was nearby, and obviously having taken great care with her appearance. The rest of them had gone casual in jeans and T-shirts. Frankie was in a dress that flirted with her thighs, dancing about halfway up them, and she filled the bodice out in a way that had Raven deciding she finally understood the appeal of breasts.
And that didn’t even take into account Frankie’s heels and her makeup and the soft red curls framing her face.
She’d spent time. Alotof it.
“Not interested?” he asked, lifting a brow.
“Lex,” Connor warned.
And seriously, Raven didn’t care if Lex was sexy and manly and clearly a beast in bed (while escaping unscathed from that fictional firefight she kept imagining him participating in).
He was a dick to her friend, so he was dead to her.
D.E.A.D.Dead.
