Page 44 of Most Likely to Deny Love

“Mia tells me you’re quite the wine connoisseur. What do you think of the Cabernet we’re serving? It’s nothing special, I’m afraid, but Ted picked it up last minute.”

“It’s lovely,” Jack lied smoothly, though the wine was barely a step above vinegar.

“You’ll have to bring something from your collection next time,” she continued, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “I’d love to sample what someone with your... background... considers a good vintage.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. My mom had spent the entire evening trying to establish Jack’s net worth without directly asking to see his bank account. Her behavior was mortifying, but Jack handled each probe with perfect grace.

“I’d be happy to,” he replied, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of my hand, hidden from view beneath the tablecloth.

The rest of dinner passed in pretty much the same way. It was fucking excruciating. Until, finally, the plates were cleared and Mom said, “Mia, would you help me bring out dessert?” Mom stood abruptly, her tone making it clear this wasn’t actually a request.

I reluctantly released Jack’s hand and followed her into the kitchen, bracing for whatever interrogation was waiting for me. The moment the door closed behind us, she whirled on me, eyes wide.

“Mia Harris, why didn’t you tell me he comes from money?” she hissed, her voice low but intense.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Because it’s not important.”

“Not important?” She looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “It sounds to me like he comes from change your life kind of money.”

“I don’t care about his family’s money,” I said firmly. “I care about him.” Oh. Shit. Where had that come from?

Mom rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure you’re very much in love,” she said with enough sarcasm to fill a swimming pool. “Well, you’re going to have to do your best to keep a man like that. Did you have a chance to look at that diet plan I sent you?”

“Yup.”

“And?”

For answer, I grabbed the platter of rum balls. “I’ll take the dessert. You get the coffee.”

“Don’t be so sensitive, Mia,” Mom called after me as I pushed through the door. “I’m only thinking of what’s best for you.”

I plastered a smile on my face as I returned to the dining room, setting the platter of chocolate rum balls in the center of the table with hands that barely trembled. Go me. Jack’s eyes found mine immediately, his brow furrowing slightly as he read the tension in my face. I was really starting to adore that frown.

“Everything okay?” he asked quietly as I slid back into my chair beside him.

“Fine,” I whispered back, trying to mean it.

Without warning, Jack’s hand slid up to the nape of my neck, his fingers slipping beneath my hair to find the pressure point. He applied just enough gentle pressure to ease the anxiety simmering inside me. The touch was so intimate, so knowing, that I had to fight to keep my expression neutral. Now was not the time to be turned on.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. When Jack sensed that I’d calmed down enough, he moved his hand away. Before I had a chance to miss his touch, though, he linked his fingers with mine.

“These look amazing,” Jack commented as Mom returned with the coffee. “Did you make them yourself, Helen?”

Mom preened under his attention. “I did. It’s an old family recipe. The secret is using just the right amount of dark rum.”

“They’re Mom’s specialty,” Megan added. “I’m having her make them for the wedding dessert table.”

Jack selected one and held it up, examining it with appreciation. Then, to my complete surprise, he turned to me with a playful smile. “You have to try one of these.” Before I could react, he was holding the chocolate to my lips.

My face burned as everyone at the table watched. Jack’s eyes held mine, challenging and warm all at once. I parted my lips and allowed him to place the rum ball in my mouth, his fingers lightly brushing against my bottom lip.

The rich chocolate and rum flavor exploded on my tongue, but I barely registered it. All I could focus on was the intensity in Jack’s gaze as he watched me eat from his hand.

“Delicious,” I managed to say once I’d swallowed.

“They are good,” Megan interrupted, clearly desperate to reclaim the attention. “Speaking of the wedding, I wanted totell you about the pre-wedding spa weekend we’re planning at Lake James. It’s going to be amazing. All the bridesmaids, Mom, Charles’s mom and sisters... we’ve rented three cabins. It’ll be like a girls bonding retreat.”

Okay, so this is what hell on Earth looked like.

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