Page 63 of Trust

Head spinning at the turn of the conversation, Zane leaned back. “She’s got both. Her older sister owns the bookstore in town, and her best friend has a yoga studio. She’s got a younger sister I haven’t met and about a hundred friends I can’t keep straight.”

“I saw a pretty redhead in front of the bookstore on my way in. Is that a Bennett sister?”

“Yep. That’s Lucy, the town heartbreaker as far as I can tell.”

“She can break something on me.” Linc pulled two beers out of the fridge and returned to the table. “That woman is temptation. Pure and simple.” He flipped the caps off and sat down. “A goddamn piece of dark chocolate cake that no one can resist.”

Zane crossed his arms. “That’s a lot more adjectives than one pass should’ve provided.”

“I might’ve stopped and taken a moment to enjoy the scenery.”

“Okay.” He studied his cousin and couldn’t tell if there was more. Or if he wanted to know about it. Not that Lucy Bennett couldn’t handle Linc Hawker, legendary Lothario, because she could. The little time they’d spent in one another’s company told him there wasn’t a man or invasion of a small country she couldn’t manage with little effort—in a dress, high heels, and some damn sparkly jewelry, to boot. He shook his head and decided those were facts his cousin could discover on his own.

His hands were full as it was. He had a tiger by the tail and didn’t have an ounce of confidence that he’d come out the victor. Not that he wanted there to be a losing side when it came to him and Olivia. He just didn’t want to be worse off than he was. Killer licked his hand and then tilted his head. “Don’t overplay your hand, dog. I’m already keeping you.”

“You ever think giving in and raising the white flag is more expeditious?”

“To total ruin?” Zane asked.

“Or happiness,” Linc replied quietly.

“A lot more than I’m comfortable admitting.”

“Yeah, man, same.”

Zane slid his finger over the condensation on the cold beer bottle and told himself that giving in wasn’t giving up. It was just a road he wasn’t all that familiar with.

How perilous could the road less traveled be anyway?

SIXTEEN

Olivia looked around and tried to pinpoint when the cocktail hour had gone off the rails. She lifted her wine glass and drained it, deciding the wine had nothing to do with it. Nor did the pimiento cheese and crackers since they were delicious as always.

And what, for the love of God, was happening between her sister and Zane’s cousin? The tension that ignited the moment they’d been introduced was making her light-headed.

Was unwanted lust responsible? It seemed possible since her sister was almost immediately out of sorts—a rare occurrence in a man’s company or anyone’s for that matter. Lucy could easily carry on civil discourse with even the most objectional human. And Linc certainly wasn’t that since he was handsome as sin with a delightful rakish wit.

The two were currently nose-to-nose and speaking in heated whispers.

Then there were Bea and Asher pretending like the other didn’t exist. They were both studying the walls with a lot more interest than the art deserved and refilling their wine glasses at an alarming rate. She’d tried every conversational trick she could think of, but none worked.

When they showed up together, unannounced unexpectedly, she knew something had gone down. Asher’s sudden appearance in town had flummoxed her best friend, and whatever happened before they arrived was clearly of consequence. And she’d bet good money it was some kind of lip-lock that had them acting like they’d prefer to be in a Russian gulag instead of her lovely dinner party.

And then there was her Zane; he, too, looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. The sound of Linc’s and Lucy’s heated whispers increased, and she sighed. “What do you suppose is going on? I can’t tell if they're flirting or fussing.”

Zane thrummed his fingers restlessly on his knee. “No idea, Liv. Maybe we should just call it and forget dinner.”

She tamped down her frustration. He’d been strung tight since he arrived, and she didn’t know if the domesticity of the evening had him on edge or something else entirely. Did he think having dinner en famille meant she was interested in a formal arrangement? Because she most certainly wasn’t.

Her life was full, with nary a free moment for a consuming relationship. Naughty shenanigans, yes. Formal relationship, probably not. Her matrimonial death glare was packed safely away, and she had no plans to dig it out any time soon.

Tired of her mental machinations, she pushed herself to her feet. “I’m going to check on supper.”

“I’ll help,” Zane added loudly.

Nothing. There was no reaction from Linc and Lucy or Asher and Bea. All four were engaged in some weird, quiet exchange of silent, stinging looks. Sighing, she tromped into the kitchen and opened the oven door, checking on the roasted chicken she planned to serve. That was if anyone decided to hang around for dinner.

“My dinner parties don’t usually start so badly.”

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