Page 4 of Sip
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he regrets her agreement. Rare for men like us to feel that kind of guilt. We’re not complete assholes to women, I guess. “It’ll be fine.”
Even more unusual for me to be giving him a pep talk. She really has fucked up our world in the short hour she’s been here. “I spoke to her outside for a few minutes. She seems okay— smart, resilient.”
“You got all of that from a few minutes?”
“You had to be there. It was an interesting conversation.”
The look of skepticism on his face proves he thinks I’m crazy. I chuckle from the irony, and his scowl deepens. He’ll find out soon enough how unusual his bride is.
Without any other need for conversation, I stride out of his office to the dining room, sinking into the seat on Grace’s left. The perfect position to show our immediate inclusion of her into our family and relentless protection for any enemies— either in this room or beyond.
Her right corners with the head of the table, my brother’s rightful place. Normally, I don’t give a damn. I’m the spare to the heir and have no problem playing the role of enforcer for the family with no goals or ambitions of my own until and unless something happens to my older brother. Then I’ll be king. For now, I settle for being prince. Second in command isn’t bad when you have all the money and pussy you want and everyone hops at my snap. I glance to my side. I’m not stuck marrying a lunatic either.
Which Grace must be, with the huge, welcoming smile she gives me. No sign or indication of regret from her conversation with my brother. She settles for what’s expected. Kind of like I do. Surprising me because living in his shadow has never bothered me until now. Funny how she makes me see things much differently than before.
Conversation between her father and cousin cease when Shane strolls in, well-aware dinner waits until he arrives. He doesn’t hurry. No reason to rush when your subjects know their places. Once his ass hits the cushion, the server scurries over to set his salad in front of him. With his nod, she serves the rest of us— Grace last.
Even I know how fucking rude that is and don’t appreciate her jab toward me at Grace’s expense. I grab her wrist after she passes behind me and jerk her down to whisper in her ear. “Ladies first from now on.”
“Yes sir.”
Sounds likefuck youwith her tone. I start to rise so I can follow her into the kitchen and correct her behavior in a way she won’t like or appreciate until elegant fingers tug on my coat sleeve.
“Thank you, Killian. It’s fine.”
It’s not fine at all. Yet the rude woman realizes the reprieve she’s been granted from this little pixie as well as the chance to escape, not glancing backward as she rushes away.
“I like the pecans. They’re a nice change from slivered almonds don’t you think?”
Slowly I return to my chair, amazed as Grace points to her plate, attempting to distract me with inane questions about nuts. Like I give a damn what we eat. I find myself nodding anyway. More agreeable than normal with her striving to diffuse the situation and appease me.” “So you’re into saving almonds too?”
“No….” She feigns exasperation with her head tilting and her eyebrows lifting. Yet her blooming smile gives her away. “…and lucky for them because I’m starving.”
Her adorable laugh rings out, not that anyone else notices. The other men remain deep in conversation about securing more ports along the northern border. I should care and engage with them but right now, I don’t give a damn about anything but her. This tiny fragile creature intrigues me. I’m not sure if I want to kill her or kiss her, and that’s never happened to me before since I usually size up pretty quickly which side of me you’re on.
She spears a raspberry with her fork and shakes her head. “Don’t worry though, I promise I’m not upset from you teasing me. I learned a long time ago very few people take environmental issues seriously. We’ve just met, and I can’t expect you to be any different.”
It fucking slays me how much Iwantto be different from everyone else in her eyes. Especially when she parts her supple mouth and slides in the fruit. Unbelievable, I’m jealous of fucking produce. “I’m just not use to someone being so passionate.”
“But what about you? Isn’t there anything you’re passionate about? What makes you do things other people may not understand but the need to build it or learn it or do it is more important than what other people think?””
No answers come to my mind because there’s nothing. Nothing in the fucking world that is important to me.
Patient and curious she tips her head closer while waiting for me to respond. I can’t. I don’t have anything to offer.
Her gaze returns to her food, and she swirls three blueberries in the tangy citrus dressing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I seem to have a bad habit of doing that.”
Fuck. I’ve hurt her feelings. The first time I’ve ever cared about upsetting another person, and I don’t know how to feel about having feelings. Or how to fix my mistake. Except by awkward conversation. Which is random too since I hate talking to everyone.
She doesn’t seem to mind or notice, lighting up when I attempt to keep the dialogue going. “I’m fine. I like hearing about your interests.”
“The university here is excellent. I want to earn my masters and then move on to my doctorate if Shane allows me to keep taking classes.”
“He will. You can go to school.”
I shouldn’t speak on his behalf or make promises to his fiancée, but I can’t help myself. She’s so eager and earnest I refuse to allow anyone to stifle her enthusiasm.
“I’m so glad.”
