Emma elbowed him lightly. “She’s telling us about her parents.”
Griffin kissed my shoulder, and shivers raced all over my body. His groan from earlier resounded in my mind. I wouldn’t be able to forget that moment anytime soon, if at all.
“Phoebe?” Griffin asked, and I realized he’d been talking to me.
“I spaced out, I’m sorry.”
“Emma asked you if you prefer chicken or beef.” He was so close to me that his mouth was almost on mine.
“I eat everything,” I said, looking straight at Emma.
She nodded. “Fair enough. Then we’ll make half with chicken and half with beef.”
I realized that they’d given Griffin a cutting board too. He was in charge of slicing the meat. I grimaced at that, and Emma laughed.
“Is that how you usually do things?” she asked us. “He chops the meat, and you do the veggies?”
I hadn’t realized she was watching us so closely.
“We’re a good team,” Griffin said, and I simply nodded.
We all worked side by side to assemble the skewers. Half an hour later, Emma put them on a platter and took them outside for Jude to cook.
The second Griffin and I were alone in the kitchen, I became jittery. I tried focusing on taking out plates and cutlery. Emma had tried to fight me on it, but I truly needed to do something.
“Phoebe,” Griffin said slowly, coming right next to me. I almost expected for him to touch my lower back again, but he didn’t. “Are you okay?”
I licked my lips, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear before turning around and looking straight at him. “Um, yeah, sure. Why?”
“You seem uneasy.”
Uneasy, huh? More like turned on and confused. There was no way to talk about what I’d heard without being even more awkward. And certainly not here in front of Jude and his wife.
“I’m just trying to find my footing,” I told him, which was true.
“If you change your mind about spending the night here?—”
I shook my head vehemently. “No, that’s not it.”
“So, there is something,” he pressed.
Damnit, he was really good at reading me.
“I’m trying to gauge how to best play this. It’s a bit different than at the restaurant.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, it is. It’s more intimate.”
“Exactly.” I averted my gaze because I was sure that if he made eye contact long enough, he’d realize I’d heard him.
“When did you come downstairs?” he asked me.
I turned around, taking out the plates from the overhead cabinet. “After you went into the bathroom. I didn’t need much time to change.”
“All right,” he said.
His voice was a bit different. I wasn’t sure if he was buying it. He grabbed the stacked plates and cutlery, I gathered four glasses, and we headed outside.
The outdoor dining area was in the back of the house. I hadn’t even noticed it when we first got here. The fire pit was a few feet away. Jude had set the skewers on the bench next to it and was busy stoking the fire. The salad was already on the table.
