Page 45 of The Front Runner
I suppose the fact that she’s never been in a relationship could be part of that. I’m thinking her awkwardness around me can be chalked up to lack of experience. She’s just mature enough to come off like she has more than she does. Either way, I’m happy to sit by Nana—I like the old crone.
“Mira, you’re not really going to leave Stefan over there by himself?” her mother exclaims in front of everyone, and I wish she’d just left it.
The good news for Mira is that if she wants a man who is happy for her to go on having her own life and goals and ideas—I’m that guy. I couldn’t care less if she wants to sit at the opposite end of the table. I saw how she’s been looking at me all night. I’m pretty sure that where she wants to be sitting is on my cock.
“She can sit wherever she wants,” I say, but Mira is already walking toward me with a tight set to her jaw. I pull out the chair next to me and she sits down like she’s made of wood. She’s clearly annoyed. She’s got that look on her face like she might gut someone.
I secretly love this side of her. The resting bitch face. Even when she looks at me likethat, her fierceness is exciting. She’s not afraid to let her claws out, and I’m not afraid to get scratched.
I tuck my chair in next to her, and she leans incrementally toward me. “Thanks.”
She mumbles it, tersely, and I offer her a gentle nudge of my elbow against hers. The meal carries on, and I get lost in the flavors. I answer the odd question about what I do—run a racing business. What my accent is—Romanian-ish. If the food is too spicy for me—no.
I love the whole thing. I only wish Nadia were here to see it. It might soften up that very jaded side of her. She grew up too fast, and I’m not sure how to slow her down now. A worry for another day.
“So, Mira, any plans to get married soon?” a woman from across the table asks. Her aunt, I think. Her father’s sister-in-law. She smiles, but I can see what Mira mentioned. There’s a level of judgement, and it makes me roll my shoulders back and sit up straight.
“Can you pass the naan bread, please?” I try to interrupt.
The woman hands it over as Mira leans into me. “Naan.”
“That’s what I said.” I take the platter with a kind smile.
“No, you said naanbread. It’s obviously bread. Like chai, you don’t need to call it chai tea,” she whispers to me, keeping the conversation between us with an amused curve to her lips.
“So, Mira? You never answered my question?” the woman cuts in, not taking the out I tried to provide her.
Mira rips off a bite of hernaanand chews angrily. “Nope,” she says through a full mouth. Like if she shoves enough food in there, she won’t say something that she’ll regret.
“That’s a shame.” The woman’s eyes dart to mine before turning back on Mira. And I can already tell that what’s going to come out next will be unnecessarily cruel. I slide a hand between us and take a hold of her thigh again. I’m pretty sure my hands belong on her thighs.
“You’re so focused on your job, and you aren’t getting any younger.”
Mira goes completely rigid, and I let my thumb rub gentle circles on her inner thigh in an attempt to soothe her.
“You need to think about having babies at some point. You won’t experience that fulfillment until you have one for yourself.”
Mira’s eyes narrow and her mouth opens, but I cut her off. The part of me that has failed at protecting the women in my life up until this point rears its ugly head. “You know what’s wild?” I announce to the entire table. “I’ve answered a lot of questions tonight. And it’s been an absolute pleasure meeting every one of you. But not a single person has inquired about my family planning agenda or implied that I might be close to my expiration date on becoming a father.”
The room is so quiet you could probably hear a pin drop. Have I gone too far? Some might think so. Others might think… not far enough. I smile and shovel a mouthful of lentils past my lips and chew thoughtfully, making sure I take a moment to meet the eyes of every single person who is staring at me.
My thumb never stops stroking Mira’s inner thigh.
“I find it fascinating that no one has ever asked me that as a man, but somehow it’s polite dinner conversation for a young woman with lofty career goals and an enviable level of focus.”
No one says anything, but I see Sunny’s lips twitch as he eats again.
I look back at the woman who started this whole conversation. She looks properly chastised, but I can’t find it in myself to care. I have a vicious side too. A protective side. And just because I haven’t been able to protect the people I care about in the past doesn’t mean I can’t start now.
“Maybe you can ask her about the premature foal she saved this month instead?”
I keep eating and feel Nana pat my leg gingerly before she gets back to her food. But it appears I was so busy glaring at everyone else that I missed looking at the beautiful woman beside me. The one who is currently boiling over. Tears glisten across the surface of her wide eyes, taking me completely by surprise. With a loud screech, her chair shoots back.
“Excuse me,” she bites out before storming away from the table and heading toward the front door.
With her gone, I can let my fangs out. I can’t help it—wolves raised me.
I dab at my mouth with the cloth napkin before placing it on the tabletop. “The next person to make that woman cry will wish they hadn’t.” I push my chair back calmly and turn to Nana. “Thank you for the beautiful meal. I look forward to meeting you again.” Then I turn to Mr. and Mrs. Thorne. “Thank you so much for hosting me in your home. I had a lovely time.”
