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“You look lovely, Jezebelle. Come join me and Bradley.”
She didn’t spare him another glance as she walked away, expecting Jezebelle to follow without issue.
Jezebelle looped her arm through his as they dutifully followed.
“What did she say to you?”
There was no way he wanted to get into it now. Not in front of people he didn’t know. Plus, one less thing for Jezebelle to worry about. She didn’t need to know her mother threatened him. Because the tyrant knew he would never want to be partners with her. She’d destroy him in a heartbeat if she could.
Damn his brother…
“Brick,” Jezebelle whispered as she tugged on his arm.
He smiled at her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. It calmed some of the fury rumbling inside.
“Nothing important. Let’s enjoy this evening. Your mother is right. You look lovely. No, you look stunning.”
The bright, beautiful way her lips curled up made the anger lessen a bit more. He was determined to enjoy this evening, especially if he could keep putting that wondrous look on her face.
He forced himself to remain calm and not allow a trace of his annoyance in his features when Bradley greeted her by placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. Jezebelle said there were no feelings between them, then he’d trust her. Her only. He would never trust Bradley with anything.
Small talk ensued with him remaining quiet. It wasn’t as if her mother allowed many opportunities to jump in the conversation anyhow. It centered on Jezebelle, her move to her father’s company in the city, and how well she and Bradley fit together. It was as if he didn’t exist.
If she thought he’d sit idly by and let her take Jezebelle away from him, attempt to ruin his life, well, she had no idea who she was messing with. He rarely displayed his temper, but if poked and prodded enough, he’d let it fly and not regret an ounce of it.
His brother had seen it.
His brother was about to see it again.
Making a deal with the devil.
“Ah, I love this song. Bradley, be a dear and dance with Jezebelle.”
The smile that lit Bradley’s face made him want to punch it right off. The tension that radiated off Jezebelle at her mother’s suggestion had him kissing her hand and winking.
“I get the next song.”
He’d be damned if he’d let her mother win this war. She might think she had the upper hand, and at times, Brick didn’t mind letting her think so. But she didn’t.
Jezebelle appeared stiff and awkward as Bradley led her to the dance floor, but not as tense after he had given his blessing. Like he was going to cause a scene. Her mother thought he would, displaying some sort of erratic jealousy. The woman didn’t know him at all.
He stood next to the old hag without saying a word. Nothing that came out of his mouth would be pleasant anyway, so why bother. The way steam seemed to rise out of her ears, her eyes narrowing in displeasure, he knew she wanted him to say something. She wanted him to ask what she meant about the comment concerning his brother. He’d find out soon enough when he spoke to his brother himself. He wasn’t about to let her get her way and play her little games.
“My, my. I’m surprised you have no questions about our future endeavors together.”
Oh, that didn’t sound good. His brother would never sell his share of the bar. Not even with the animosity between them. But by her words, he had.
His brother sold him out, throwing him directly into shark-infested waters.
Yet he would not rise to the bait.
Turning his gaze toward her, he produced a grin. “I promise to be the best son-in-law there is. I look forward to it.”
He nearly chuckled at the way her beady eyes narrowed even further, astonished and appalled he’d ignore what she had really been talking about.
“That is not—”
“Ah, Brick, my friend. There you are. I wanted to introduce you to my friends.”
