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“Didshehave something to do with that?”
I don’t respond.
He nods. “Who?”
My traitorous eyes dart to my left. Lucie is still there, champagne flute in hand, staring at me, her lips a compressed line. Why did she come if she was going to stand there looking miserable?
When I turn back to Cian, he’s studying Lucie.
He lifts his hand from my back and touches his tie. A man in a black-on-black suit peels off from the side of the room. Cian nods at the woman and subtly shakes his head.
And then I’m back in Cian’s arms again.
The next time he twirls me, the man in black is escorting Lucie from the ballroom. He doesn’t care that he’s making a scene, but from Lucie’s bright red cheeks as everyone turns to whisper, point, and laugh, she does.
“Cian?” I breathe. “Did you just throw her out for me?”
“She’s lucky I care more about dancing with you than taking her out and launching her over our fence.”
I’m smiling as I lean back to meet his eyes. “The fence is too high.”
He lowers his head and his lips touch mine. “Then she’s lucky we don’t have any horses to have your sister run her down.”
I burst out laughing. “What?”
“You heard me,” he says. “She was muttering something about wanting to kill Lawrence with a horse when we went after you. I believed her.”
I do a quick sweep of the room and spot Della chatting with my mom near the refreshment table. Both wave at me, and I smile back. Mom is doing a lot better mentally. While she’s still not fully comfortable around alphas, or with her new freedom, regular Zoom meetings with her therapist are helping.
It also helps to know the police arrested Sloane for what he did to her. That hasn’t stopped Pack Lucas from providing security to ensure Mom feels safe in her house. She’s even started talking about taking art classes at a local college, and I’m excited for her. If I can get used to the idea of showing strangers my art, I might join her.
I turn back to Cian, knowing he’s right. Della would have totally chased Lucie down with a horse. No prodding necessary. “You didn’t need to do that for me.”
“But I wanted to,” he says, smiling back. “I most definitely wanted to.”
“Are we still playing cards tonight?”
“If you want. I’m not sure you still need lessons, though.” His eyes are twinkling.
“I do. It’s fun. You’re a good teacher.”
His tone is dry. “Are you sure it’s my teaching? You’re a very talented beginner to win as much as you do.”
Briefly, I catch Della’s eye and she winks. Maybe one day I’ll tell Cian that it’s not my first time playing poker. I had a teacher once, and Della was a good player.
I like that it’s something we do together. Just me and Cian, sitting cross-legged on his bed, playing cards, laughing, and then when we’ve had enough, we play other games.
“You’re smiling,” Cian tells me.
“I’m happy,” I admit. “You make me happy,” I correct.
He’s told me more about his mom and his dad, and I realize how hard it must have been to let me go after his mom walked out on him.
But he let me go, not knowing I would ever come back—in fact, believing I never would—because he wanted to make me happy. I’ll never forget it.
He dips me, pretending to drop me, and I laugh instead of screaming because I know he never would.
He returns my smile as he holds me in a half-dip. “I love that laugh.”
