One More Rule (Blindfold Club 2.50)

His unnecessary apology only made me angrier. “You’re sorry? For what? Wanting my parents not to be di

cks?”

I said it too loud and the couple at the table next to us glanced over.

“No more wine for you.” Dominic gave me a lopsided smile. “You know, it’s easier to talk like that when no one around us speaks English.”

“I told you this would happen.”

He blinked, but his face remained unchanged. “You did.” He flipped open his menu casually. “So, we tried, Payton. We’ll see if they change their attitude when they want to see their grandkids.”

Grandkids.

We both wanted children, and we’d talked about it in the future, but it continued to throw me off balance how settled and comfortable he was with the idea. Sometimes I’d catch myself staring with disbelief at the enormous ring on my finger. I was engaged, I had to remind myself. I’d found another person who willingly wanted to be a part of my life. Shocking.

His carefree demeanor, and the lunch we eventually ordered, diffused some of my anger. It was pointless to get worked up, and I tried to emulate Dominic’s easy mood.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” I said as we finished up our plates. “We both technically won the bet about Evie and Logan.”

Dominic leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “How do you figure that?”

“The no-sex rule. It didn’t get broken.”

A lazy smile grew on his lips. “Fine, devil woman. I’ll have lunch with Joseph, but only because you want us to. Let’s be clear. You did not win that bet.”

“Whatever.” I climbed out of my chair, and was about to tell him I was heading for the restroom, when something caught my eye. Not something, but someone.

Holy shit.

He wove through the tables, moving quickly toward me, a blur in an expensive suit. “Payton.”

“What the fuck?” I stared in disbelief.

He grinned, surprised. “Wow, nice language.” His glance went from top to bottom. “And, wow. You look great.”

Dominic’s hand was warm on my waist, but his expression painted in a scowl at this man he didn’t know. I would have laughed if I could get over what I was seeing.

“You must be the fiancé. I’m Kyle McCreary.” My brother extended a hand.

Once the information settled in, the tension in Dominic’s shoulders relaxed and a smile broke on his face. He took Kyle’s hand and shook it. “Hey, yeah. Dominic Ward.”

“Okay,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“Mom told me what happened. I thought I’d see if I could catch you before you left.”

There was a thin gloss of sweat on Kyle’s forehead as if he’d hurried, and the purple plaid tie he wore with his gray suit was askew.

“So you ran from New York all the way to this restaurant?”

Kyle’s soft smile froze. “No, I live here now.” He pushed his suitcoat back so he could rest his hands on his hips and catch his breath. “You didn’t know?”

He looked so different from the last time I’d seen him, which had been . . . when? My college graduation? Kyle’s hair was more like Dad’s, the color of maple syrup. He’d let it go long on the top and it was a little wild. Soft curls turned up at the ends. I couldn’t tell if he’d skipped shaving for the last three days, or if it was perfectly maintained scruff.

Either way, it was a good look on him.

My arms moved without thought, and suddenly I was hugging him. Kyle stood straight and immobile, confused. My family did not hug. But then again, I’d always been the black sheep.

“No, Mom didn’t tell me,” I said. “She’s too busy, I guess.” I stepped back from him and curled into Dominic’s embrace. “When did you move?”