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But when I slid that possessive hand around Macon’s waist, the look on his face was priceless. Her eyes went wide and then narrowed like a predator.
And I knew exactly who was her prey.
“I got our orders placed,” I said sweetly, looking up at Macon like he and I were the only two people there. Like she didn’t even register in our orbit. “Shouldn’t be too long.”
To his credit, his acting skills seemed to have drastically improved, and the moment our eyes connected, a slight grin tugged at the corner of his lip. He one-upped me by wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me tight against his side.
Like he’d done it a thousand times.
Like I belonged there.
I made sure to look at him just a little too long. I bit my lip and smiled in a way that insinuated that I was thinking of some very inappropriate things.
It helped that I most definitely was.
I did this all while Kristy watched.
While shestared.
And then, just when it started to border on straight-up rude, I finally turned to her and said, “Oh, hi,” and then I let out a little giggle.
Like a love-drunk schoolgirl.
“We were in the middle of a conversation,” she said, her words clipped and full of rage.
“Oh?” I said in a passive tone that told her exactly how much I cared—which was not at all. “What about?”
She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes flickering over the hoodie I wore. She either recognized it or knew it was way too big to be mine.
Good.
“It’s really not any of your concern.”
“Well, seeing as you are speaking loud enough for the whole island to hear, I’d say it sounds like everyone’s concern.”
A few people nearby coughed, stifling a laugh. Even one of her friends had to turn, pressing her lips together to keep her expression neutral.
She huffed. “I was merely asking if Macon had something of ours from”—her words faltered—“before. And if he did?—”
“I told you,” Macon’s deep voice said next to me, “I don’t have your damn vase.”
“A vase?” I echoed, trying to look interested.
She merely looked at me. All this was about a fucking vase?
“What does it look like?” I asked in a sickly-sweet voice.
Her eyes narrowed once more. “It’s crystal. Very expensive. Why?”
“Oh. Well then, never mind. Macon bought me flowers the other day—he’s always doing stuff like that. Anyway, I found this vase in the cupboard, but it wasn’t crystal.”
“Are you sure?” she pressed.
“Yes. Very. Besides,” I answered, acting embarrassed and leaving nothing to the imagination as to what was going on in my head, “we sort of broke it when we—never mind.”
Her cheeks flamed, and she looked up at Macon. “If you find it?—”
“Oh, you’ll be the first to know,” he answered, a hint of amusement to his tone. “Enjoy your girls’ day out.”
