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“You’re in my seat,” Saint’s deep voice snarls from behind me.
“Sorry. I’ll move,” I respond politely, a blush creeping up my cheeks with slight embarrassment, knowing that Lucas and Logan’s eyes are on me.
I turn to look at him, and my mouth waters. It fucking waters!
He’s dressed in a dark blue button-up that makes his blue eyes pop. He smells incredible too. The kind of clean and all-masculine scent you want to bury your nose in.
Falling asleep in his arms was the best part of my day. I’d snuggle into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. Feeling safer than I’ve ever felt.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Saint says sternly before looking at Lucas.
“MOVE,” he commands, his tone dark and dangerous.
At first, I thought Lucas was going to put up a fight, but then one look from his grandfather said it all: A warning. Probably the same warning my mom gave me earlier when she came into my room, to be on my best behavior tonight.
Saint pulls out my chair for me to sit down, acting like the gentleman we all know he isn’t. I plop down, trying to make myself comfortable, not that that will happen with him being so close.
Feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable, I place my hands in my lap, fidgeting with my gold bracelet. Warm hands find mine, giving me a gentle squeeze, and I freeze at his touch on my skin.
“Grandfather. This is Lexy. You met her at…” Jordin stops herself from saying at her party.. “You’ve met her once before.”
Saint lets go of my hand.
“Ah yes, Alexa. It’s good to see you again, my dear,” the old man says, eyes wrinkling when he smiles. “Your stepfather mentioned you’d gotten injured the night of that nasty business, but here you are, looking radiant as ever.”
Saint glowers at him, and I offer him a thin smile, “That’s very kind of you to say. Thank you, Sir.”
“It’s true. I’m sure your father will have no trouble finding you a husband.”
I stiffen when Saint moves his hand back to my thigh, squeezing so hard I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from reacting.
“Stepfather,” I remind him dryly, then remember myself. “But I’m sure the lucky man will receive a welcome like this one when the time comes.”
Ian chuckles, slowly casting his eyes from me to Jordin.
“Perhaps you could pass some of that enthusiasm on to my granddaughter when she takes on her new husband, hum, Jordin.”
“And what a fun night that’s going to be,” Saint interjects low enough for me to catch his meaning.
Bastard. I can’t believe he just said that.
I grip the fork in my hand, ready to stab him in the dick with it.
Jordin’s face falls, and I falter, instead opening my mouth to cuss Saint out when someone spills red wine over Mom’s expensive tablecloth, making everyone fuss about cleaning it up.
“Whoops. Must have slipped,” Caleb says nonchalantly.
Better wine than blood, although I would have been doing my mom a favor. Easier to get out blood stains than wine.
“Not to worry, honey. These things happen,” my mom reassures Caleb and urgently pats the patterned material down with a damp cloth, knowing full well that the stain is never coming out. Like he gives a shit.
Jordin’s cheeks are still ablaze with anger or embarrassment. It’s hard to tell.
Ian taps the side of his glass with a fork and stands. “A toast now that the first drop of wine has been spilled.” There’s a resounding chuckle around the table. “I know Eric can’t be here to celebrate with us tonight, but may I officially say. Welcome to the family, Saint.”
Ian raises his glass high in the air. “To Jordin and Saint.”
Glasses are raised, but I keep mine where it is on the table.
