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“The burly guy. Sweats a lot. He says he got kneed and then punched in the face at the wedding. I never thought of Rob as aknee a guy in the ballskind of man. Punching? Absolutely.”
Jillian lifts a finger to her chin. “I saw some guy with ice on his face in the hotel lobby. Thought it was odd, but didn’t care enough to ask. Why the hell would Rob assault his own cousin like that?”
I fiddle with one of the buttons on my shirt. “Maybe he was defending someone’s honor.”
“Maybe he just wanted to get some of that aggression out. When Tyler left me, I probably could’ve punched a cousin or two.”
“Wouldn’t have put it past you,” I agree with Melissa.
Jillian grabs the knife and tomato that Melissa forgot about and starts cutting. “Families are weird. Glad I don’t have a big one.”
“I didn’t finish the tomato salad.” Melissa pouts, clearly plagued by her pregnancy brain.
With my hands on her shoulders, I usher her out of the kitchen. “Go play hostess to your family. Jillian and I have everything set in here.” With another push, I get my friend out of the room.
While Jillian makes the tomato salad, I attempt to fix the bouquet of flowers. They are a thoughtful gesture and should be displayed proudly. I move a rose from the center to the side of the vase. It doesn’t quite do what I need it to do, so I move it to a different spot.
Jillian raises a brow. “Someone’s wasting time in the kitchen.”
I give her a reproachful look. “These flowers you brought just won’t sit right in the vase. I think there’s another one in the cabinet somewhere.”
“You keep searching, and while you do, you can explain why you’re avoiding Rob.”
I spin around at her accusation. “Avoiding Rob? Pfft. I barely know the guy. He’s insignificant to me.”
She hums, “You went from grunts to drinks to babysitting his kid. Quite the plot twist.”
My aversion to Rob isn’t what she thinks.
Actually, I’m not entirely sure what it is.
Thinking about it makes my head hurt.
“Just to prove how unaffected I am by his presence, I am going to walk this fine bouquet of flowers into the den.”
“I thought you said they didn’t look right.”
“They’re just flowers, Jillian. Stop overanalyzing everything.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, so I hip-check her. I give my hair a fluff before walking into the den. Okay, I also stop by the foyer mirror at the opposite end of the house and check my appearance. Long curls are in check. Blue eyes are lined nicely in black liner. My lips are coated in gloss, and my boobs look spectacular in this blouse. Not that I’m trying to impress anyone, but feeling good outwardly is part of the self-confidence boost I need when waging a mental war on myself.
About what? Everything.
As soon as I enter the den, I hear a squeal.
“Madam Amazing!” Molly jumps up from where she’s seated at the coffee table and rushes toward me, throwing her arms around my waist. “You left without saying good-bye the other day.”
I return her hug, trying not to spill water from the vase. My gaze inadvertently moves toward the couch.
Rob is seated beside his brother. His jean-clad legs are spread wide as he leans forward, in conversation with the guys until he notices me standing here. His eyes are on mine—like embers ablaze, flickering in stoic intensity, which match his steel-like persona. There’s a singe of something else there too. A palpable mix of appreciation for his daughter’s affection and disdain for my mere presence.
I force my gaze away, focusing on Molly. “Sorry. I had to get back to Newbury.”
“I went to that party and wore the outfit you’d made me. I got so many compliments!”
“That’s because you looked hot!” I say, and Rob grunts in response, so I correct myself, “I mean, cool. Ten-year-olds are way too young to be considered hot.” My words are more directed at Rob because Molly seems to completely understand what I’m saying.
Jesse is standing against the wall near the window. His head is buried in his phone.
