"You are."
"Sometimes I don't know whether you're being a jerk or sweet." I’ve found that it’s easier to just say how I’m feeling when it comes to Warren.
"Which would you prefer?" His lips twitch, and I swear he almost smirked. Almost.
"Sweet." I nudge him with my elbow. Warren grips my chin, turning me to fully face him.
"Are you sure, little mouse?" There is that glint in his eyes. It only stokes the heat building in my core. I swallow. Do I enjoy it when he's a jerk? It does drive me crazy, but that doesn’t mean I hate it.
"I—" Thankfully, Warren's mom interrupts me, speaking over everyone to get their attention. I had no clue how to respond to his question because I’m not sure of the answer myself.
“You’re savedfor now,” Warren says, releasing his hold on my chin. When I glance back out to the crowd, I notice everyone is watching us and not Rochelle, who has started a toast. There is a mix of expressions from everyone. Even Warren’s sister, Cosima, is studying the two of us.
A few more people stand up to give us well wishes. I sip on my champagne. It slowly starts to relax me.
“What will it be?” Warren asks as they start to serve dinner. “I had them make sure the ceremony was quick for you.”
“You did?”
Warren shrugs. “I know this isn’t what you wanted.” I glance down at my lap. That’s not true. At least at one time this hadbeen a dream of mine. “But if you wish, one day I’ll give you the wedding you deserve.” I nod, choked with emotion. These are the little things he says that pull me into him. That make me think my first instincts about him weren’t wrong.
“We’ll do the cake and dance.” I pick up my glass and take another sip.
“Eat if you’re going to keep drinking.”
“Are you always going to boss me around?”
“When it comes to your well-being, I can fix it.” Warren picks up his fork and knife, cutting a piece of the steak and bringing it to my mouth. I part my lips and take the bite. Warren's eyes soften around the sides. He feeds me another bite and then another.
"War." An old man in a fancy suit comes to stand in front of our table. He's got streaks of gray through his black hair. It makes his flushed red nose and cheeks appear brighter. "I missed the engagement party. I apologize."
"It's fine." Warren doesn't spare the man a glance, only feeding me another bite.
"Your bride?—"
"Is trying to eat her dinner."
The older man's overgrown brows lift. I want to sink back in my chair because this is awkward, but it doesn't faze Warren.
"My apologies."
"It's okay," I tell him. Warren finally turns his head toward the man.
"My wife is polite. It is not okay. We will greet our guests after dinner." The man's cheeks somehow manage to flush more. I'm sure mine aren't doing much better.
The man stumbles over his words before fleeing our table. Again, people are watching us. Even my parents.
"That was harsh," I say under my breath, not wanting others to hear.
"That was far from harsh."
"Okay, it was rude."
"It was rude of him to disturb us while we enjoyed our wedding dinner."
I snort a laugh. "I don't know if you're teasing me or not."
"I'll pick whichever made you laugh."