I flinch at the pressure, but Madi catches my attention before I can react further.
Grey’s thumb draws slow circles on my leg through the slit in my dress, and even though my brain is in overdrive, my musclesstart to relax. I allow myself to sink into the moment, trying to pretend that just for tonight, this could be real.
Conversations buzz around us. Clover is curled in on herself but speaking rapidly to Roman about her latest thriller novel. It’s adorable, honestly. When he replies, she reaches into her purse and grabs a tiny pen and notepad before scribbling down something about gun safety and security protocols.
“New career opportunity?” Grey asks, being a smartass. He doesn’t typically gravitate toward people so quickly, but he and Roman seem to be kindred spirits.
“No.” Roman is as gruff as Greyson is. Perhaps that’s why they’re getting along. “She has some…technical questions and inconsistencies with security and weapons handling. I’m simply offering my expertise.”
“How…magnanimous of you,” Grey says.
“Not particularly. I’m a fan of her work,” he says as though he’s commenting on the weather.
“You—you are?” Poor Clover’s face burns brighter than the sun.
“Yes,” Roman says, pointing to Grant. “Our entire family enjoys your work.”
I narrow my eyes while Braxton and Grey also sit up straighter.
“Relax.” Roman rolls his eyes. “Our mother was a voracious reader. It’s the one thing she instilled in all her boys. There’s nothing nefarious in our appreciation of literature…or your friend here.”
The hand on my thigh squeezes, drawing my attention to its owner. Grey scowls at Roman before dragging the same expression to Grant, and I feel as though I’ve missed something.
The brothers stare at Clover with interest. I wouldn’t say it’s sexual or predatory, but there’s a curiosity there, and Grey obviously finds it bothersome. I just don’t understand why.
Clover’s nervous chatter only pauses when synchronized servers arrive with plates in hand, setting them down in unison.
“That is so cool,” she whispers, the awe showcased in her wide eyes and innocent smile.
“This is the kind of shit our mother loved,” Grant says softly, and Grey shifts in his seat. “She passed away last year. We’re all missing her.”
My stomach clenches in sympathy. Grey offers his condolences, then promptly eats left-handed so he can keep his right hand on me. The gesture shouldn’t make my chest flutter, but it does.
It’s awkward to watch, and Braxton’s muffled laughter has Grey tightening his grip on my thigh before slowly dragging it away.
After cutting into my steak, I slowly slide it to the edge of my plate. Madi will think it’s because it’s too rare for me. That’s what I want her to think.
I know I need to get a handle on my life. It’s a slippery slope, it always is, but there are too many unknowns right now. Knowing I have a problem and understanding that I’ll wrestle it into submission the moment I have an ounce of energy to spare makes dealing with it a little easier.
The control makes me feel safe, even if it’s only a figment of my imagination.
It’s only a problem if I can’t manage it, and right now, I’ve got this.
Switching to the lobster tail, I bite into a buttery sliver of heaven. Grey grunts beside me, but I ignore him—it’s become an art form of mine.
But then the jerk reaches over my plate, stabs my filet, and places it on his own plate. Huh. Well, that solves that—damn it. Before I can stop him, he delivers his own lobster tail to my plate.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, attempting to keep the attention off us.
“I didn’t like the lobster, and you weren’t touching the steak,” he says.
My nostrils flare, but I say nothing.
“Grey, that’s…” Madi flashes her sunshiny grin my way. “It’s very sweet that you know Savvy doesn’t like her steak so rare.”
He nods but doesn’t comment. Instead, he wraps his arm around my chair and leans in to kiss the side of my head before whispering, “Eat.”
Asshole.