Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stand taller, taking a deep breath, and I knew he was about to cut these condescending men down. As much as I wanted to watch him do it—as much as I could do it myself—it could be detrimental to us being there.
I stepped to his side, sliding my arm along his back to glide along the thick, flexing muscles. He relaxed, only to tense again under my exploring touch. Usually, hugs with Austin were quick or about comfort, but we were acting as newlyweds in love, so I stroked along his side, gliding my fingers over the muscles I’d thought of exploring more than once.
I was so focused on trying to read Austin’s every reaction to my touch that I almost forgot to respond to their comments. But I needed to do something because if I didn’t, I knew my mom or dad would. I didn’t have to look over to know they were equally as annoyed while trying to remain diplomatic.
Thankfully, Jeremy, obviously as uncomfortable with the comments as everyone else, saved us all by cutting in to change the subject. “So, how did you two meet?”
We glanced at each other, both of us remembering the moment I approached him. As if on cue, we started laughing, and I knew he was imagining us telling them exactly how it went, if for no other reason than to watch their jaws drop.
Getting myself together, I explained the watered-down version without looking away from Austin. “We met at a party in college, and he swept me away, winning me over with waffles at midnight.” I wanted to read every reaction that flashed in those green depths when I talked about us. I wanted to take the time to study the way they darkened when my hand continued holding onto him tight.
Austin’s lips tipped into the tiniest of smirks, making me smile harder.
“And you were friends when you first met?” Jeremy asked.
“Yes,” he answered. His smirk shifted, changing into something softer—something I couldn’t remember seeing before. Something different than the darkening my touch caused. “But I loved her from the moment I saw her. I was just biding my time until I could snag her as mine.”
He softly brushed my hair back from my cheek, only adding to the scene. Because it was a scene…right?
My nipples pebbled, and my heart fluttered under the waves of electricity fluttering in my chest.
It had to be a scene.
It was a scene, I reminded myself.
Not real.
Even if it was real, I wouldn’t want it to be.
No way.
The end.
Then why wouldn’t my body stop trying to light itself on fire?
“Dinner’s ready,” someone announced, but I barely heard. I was too busy trying to collect myself and shove away the crazy-ass fog that drifted over me.
His hand fell away, and the moment was gone, but the words lingered.
Loved me?
Maybe he meant as a friend. I mean, I loved Austin. He was my best friend. But something about the way he said it, the way he touched me with such care, felt like so much more than friendship.
Loved me.
My thoughts consumed me so much that I missed the woman dashing into the dining room just before we sat.
“Sorry, I’m late. I had a meeting for that freelance job, and it ran late,” the blonde bombshell explained with a small wince and laugh.
She glanced around the room, offering everyone an apologetic, radiant smile, but froze when her eyes landed on us. No, not us—Austin.
“Austin?” she breathed, the smile fading.
“Aubrey. Hey,” he responded, his words slow and uncertain.
However, she was certain enough for both of them because she used her Amazonian legs to cross the room, and the next thing I knew, Austin’s hand slid from mine to wrap around this woman.
Something pierced my chest, almost like a sharp jab. There and gone so quick I couldn’t place it. All I did know was that I didn’t like it.
Thankfully, she pulled back. “Wow, it’s been so long.”
“Yeah, a few years.” Austin pushed his hand through his hair. Like my dad, it was his tell-tale sign of discomfort.
“Excuse my manners, I’m Aubrey,” she said, finally addressing the woman by his side. “I’m William Dawson’s daughter.”
“This is Raelynn Vos,” Austin introduced me.
I studied her, trying to find what had Austin so on edge. She stood there—regal, stunning, confident, polite, like she would save babies in a war zone and still look like a supermodel even though she hadn’t showered for five weeks.
She looked like a blonde version of Vera with her pearls and well-groomed manners.
None of that shook me. I loved seeing another woman confident in herself. No, what bothered me was how she looked at Austin like he was the best steak she’d ever had, and she’d give her left tit to have it again but was also too polite to act on it.