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“The formal dinner is tonight,” he explains. “And I’ve put together a group of the least boring people around.”
I’m about to politely refuse, when he adds, “Before you say no, imagine how excruciating it’d be to ask a table of strangers if you could join them and spend an entire dinner listening to their useless blabber.”
I had actually planned to order room service again and skip the dinner altogether—lost networking opportunity be damned.
I’m about to say that when Thomas continues with the sales pitch. “If you don’t want Gabriel to join us, I’ll kick him off the cool kids’ table if it means we can have you.”
I throw my hands in the air. “Gosh, you both never give up.”
Thomas smirks. “It’s a family trait, I’m afraid.”
I turn my gaze to Gabriel and his current puppy-dog-eyes expression. “He can come.” I sigh. “I don’t like to kick a man when he’s down.”
MGM frowns now, probably remembering his burning defeat.
Thomas grabs my hand again and kisses it. “You do us an honor, Miss Avery. See you at seven in the lobby.”
“Seven, then,” I say, still not sure how I’ve just agreed to have dinner with both Mercers.
Two for the price of one girl’s sanity.
* * *
I’ve only brought one dress for the evening gala and now I feel so stupid for selecting the sexy black number that was supposed to be a figurative bird-flipping at MGM in a you-can-look-but-you-can’t-touch way. I would’ve never imagined I’d actually have to sit at a dinner table with him. Now all I can think about is the plunging neckline and how much Gabriel is going to enjoy the view. All. Night. Long.
I could check if the resort boutique has a silk shawl or something that would help me make the dress more modest.
No. There isn’t enough time. And I’d be better off owning the dress rather than looking embarrassed in it.
Nothing I can do about my reckless choices now but embrace them.
Note to future self: always have a wardrobe Plan B.
I take a step back from the mirror and pull on a long black coat over the dress. Time to go.
When I open the door to my cabin, I find both brothers walking up my alleyway.
Double trouble.
“Good evening,” I greet them. “To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure? I thought we said seven in the lobby.”
Thomas pats his brother’s shoulder. “Tall, dark, and grumpy here suggested you needed an escort.”
I meet Gabriel’s eyes. He looks so stylish in a dark coat with his hair sleeked back. The only thing I want to do right now is rake my fingers through his black locks, pull him down to me, and kiss the perfection out of him. See him come out of the kiss all tousled and confused and eager for round two.
Ehm. That was wild. Before I start to look like a total idiot, I smile and let Gabriel have this one. “I might’ve lost my way around the resort maze for a minute last night,” I admit. “Thank you for the thoughtfulness.”
MGM tilts his head as if to say, giving in so easily? And then his dark eyes flash as if wondering what else I could be persuaded to give in to tonight.
Thankfully, that’s when Thomas theatrically offers me his elbow. “Shall we?”
I link my arm with his and follow him down the porch steps. I thought dealing with both Mercer brothers would be more difficult. But Thomas actually provides a sort of safety net, a buffer between me and MGM.
In fact, now I can link my other arm with Gabriel’s without feeling self-conscious, while still being hyper aware of the man by my side who’s silent, but alert and tense.
“You look well rested,” I tell him, trying to start a normal-like conversation.
He tucks my arm into him tighter. “You look well elegant.”
