“I kind of want to revisit this Nate thing,” Lincoln says, leaning against the table with his jaw set in stone. The look he gives me ramps my blood pressure. I feel my fingers automatically moving, stretching, readying themselves for a fight should it happen.
“Let’s move this conversation along before it becomes a giant pissing match,” Cam sighs. “Ford, what did you do today?”
“Not a lot,” he says, trying to navigate everything around him. “I worked some. Going golfing after this.”
“You golf?” Lincoln asks me.
“Uh, no.”
“That’s too bad.”
“And why is that?”
“I’d love to beat your ass on the golf course,” he grins.
“You fight?” I volley back, not about to let him think he got one over on me.
“Fight what?”
“Men.”
My response isn’t what he expected and it’s clear he isn’t sure exactly what I mean. “Not in a while.”
“Oh my goodness, stop it,” Camilla chirps. “Ford, make them stop.”
“I kind of want to see where this goes,” he laughs.
As they banter back and forth, Lincoln and I don’t take our eyes off each other. It’s not a two-seconds-away-from-pounding-the-other’s-face kind of thing, but rather a don’t-push-me-because-I-shove-back kind of thing.
“If you ever want to test that, I train at Percy’s downtown. I’d love to do a couple of rounds with ya,” I smirk.
“Percy’s, huh?” Ford asks.
Before I can respond, Lincoln is cutting in. “I might have to take you up on that.”
“Oh, the hell you will,” Ford laughs. “I’m not going to save your ass if you walk head-first into a fight club.”
Lincoln looks at him like a scorned puppy. “For real? You have to take my balls right here?”
“Danielle took your balls a long time ago,” Ford chuckles, clapping him on the shoulder.
“You guys are so embarrassing,” Camilla mumbles.
I look over at her. She’s shaking her head, watching the salt shaker like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. The way her cheeks are a little pink makes me want to reach out and kiss her.
Instead, I reach for her hand beneath the table. Her head turns to mine and a slow
, soft smile spreads on her lips as our fingers interlace.
“It’s okay,” I mouth to her as her brothers banter between themselves.
She gives my hand a squeeze, her dainty palm almost encased by mine. Then, in a flash of movement, her shoulders throw back and she lifts her chin.
“Hey,” she projects, her voice clear. “Can you guys hush for just a second?”
My stomach flips as I send her a questioning look. I have no idea what she’s doing but she’s doing something. She drops my hand and sits up in her seat.
“I want to say something,” she says, clearing her throat. “I don’t think this is particularly any of your business, but Dominic has suggested it’s the right thing to do.”