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This was only meant to convince Grams to agree to her operation, which she has, so there's no reason for us to be together. Except, Grams texted me twice today asking me when we're getting married so she can ensure she's recovered from her operation in time to attend. Something I didn’t tell Gio, and no doubt, what messed with my composure enough for me to trip up and allow those words through my lips. And then, I couldn’t wait to dump her at the doorstep to the house and get the fuck out of there. Coward that I am.
"Your turn," Hunter murmurs from next to me.
I glance down at my cards, then slap them down. "I fold."
"And I thought you were a fighter." JJ smirks.
"Fuck off," I say without heat.
"Something bothering you?" he asks with interest.
"Nope, nah, not being pulled into this discussion with you."
"Pulled into what?" Hunter frowns.
"You’ve been too busy governing the country to keep track of how these three here"—I nod toward JJ, Sinclair and Michael—"have been conducting interventions which have resulted in many of our mutual friends biting the dust."
Hunter moves the cigar to the other side of his mouth. "It’d be remiss of me not to admit that they had a hand in my coming to my senses and marrying the woman of my dreams, too. It’s what makes everything worth it."
I narrow my gaze. "Makes what worth it?"
"Everything. Winning the vote, becoming the Prime Minister, working twelve hours a day, as long as I can return home and see Zara and Enzo every evening." His features soften, and his eyes shine with what I can only assume is love. For a few seconds, he’s not the leader of the country whose every decision will impact the future of generations to come. He’s a man in love—head over heels in love—and someone who cares deeply about his family.
"Huh?" I blink.
"And what about you?" Sinclair drawls.
"Me?" I lean back in my chair. "What about me?"
"A-n-d there it is. The very fact that you’d think we were talking about you is a sign of guilt." JJ guffaws.
"Guilt? The fuck you talking about, old man?"
JJ smiles wider. "Don’t deflect. I’m comfortable with my age, unlike you."
"Now you’re going too far." I cross my arms across my chest, knowing my posture is belligerent, but what-fucking-ever.
"I’m not the one who signed up to captain a team of whippersnappers decades younger than me."
"And I’d think you’d respect me for it," I snap.
"Not that I don’t, but—"
"But?"
"But"—he raises a shoulder—"I don’t have a point to prove."
"And I do?" I frown.
"Do you?" JJ lowers his chin to his chest. "What ghosts from your past are you running away from, hmm?"
"Maybe they’re not ghosts. Maybe they’re here and alive, and I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be."
JJ meets my gaze, then nods slowly. “Your engagement is going as you intended?"
"Of course it is." I look between him and the rest of the men, all of whom are looking at me with skepticism.
"What? If any of you wankers have something to say—"
