CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Bran
"Fuck." I muttered to myself as I left the kitchen for the third time in the last 20 minutes making sure dinner would be perfect.
What did I care if Anne had an enjoyable meal?
But Jesus Fuck, I did.
The woman was getting under my skin, and I didn't like it, especially since she had reiterated her stand that she and I would never be friends. Was I simply intrigued by the challenge of trying to get her to change her mind? Or was it something else? It was the possibility of something else that was messing with my mind.
I poured myself an ample amount of scotch and then opened the double doors from the dining room out to the terrace sucking in the fresh warm evening air. I needed to focus on the fact that Anne was here and still game to follow through on carrying my child. Everything else that I thought or felt about her was secondary. I had to remember that.
Movement behind had me turning to see Anne entering the dining area. She wore her blonde hair down and it flowed in long waves that looked like she washed it and let it dry naturally in the outdoor sun.
Her clothing was casual, a pair of jeans and a blouse, but they did nothing to hide her fantastic body. Did she do that on purpose?
Did she know that looking alluring fucked with my head?
She scanned the long table with a place setting at each end with multiple forks and spoons and glasses.
An amused smirk appeared on her face. "It looks like I'm not in Kansas anymore."
"I thought you might like the taste of the life you once had." I downed my drink, setting the glass on the buffet as I walked to the table.
She stood at one end and looked at me over the length of the table standing at the other end. It felt like a football field distance between us.
"Is this how you ate dinner when you were growing up? Your parents a mile apart at the table?" she asked.
The question had me second guessing my choice to set up a nice meal for her. "I figured you'd want to have some distance from me. You did say earlier that we weren’t going to be friends. To be honest, I'm kind of surprised you showed up."
She shrugged. "We won’t be friends, but that doesn't mean we can't be civil."
She picked up a single fork, spoon, and knife, setting them on her plate with her napkin, and picked them up carrying them to a seat next to me. I held her chair out for her until she sat and then I sat at the head of the table using my foot to press the buzzer on the floor to let my butler and kitchen staff know we were ready.
The door opened and my butler entered carrying a pitcher of water. He looked at Anne sitting near me. He poured us each a glass of water. "I'll have your place setting reset for you here, ma'am,” he said to Anne
"It's all right. I don't mind using the same fork for my salad and my meal."
"I thought this was the lifestyle you were working so hard to get back into," I said, surprised she wasn’t bathing in the lap of luxury I was trying to give her.
"There's a lot of things that I want to do or have that money is going to fix but having 27 pieces of silverware during dinner isn’t one of them."
"Good to know." I looked up at my butler. "We're ready for our meal. Bring it all out at once."
He arched a brow. “At once?”
“Yes.”
Anne clearly didn’t need to eat in courses.
He gave me a nod and headed back toward the kitchen.
I held up my glass of water. "Would it be too much to ask to have a toast?"
She picked up her glass. "What are we making a toast to?"
"To the start of a great adventure and in the end having everything we want."