Instinctively, Zander thrust out his arms to set Reid away from Britt. It wasn’t quite a shove. But close.
“Hey.” For the first time, antagonism cracked through Reid’s expression. “Do you have a problem with me?”
“More than one.”
“Zander.” Britt stepped into his line of sight and gave him the type of stare a teacher gives a student to keep him in line.
How was he in the wrong here?
Several of the guests turned curious eyes their direction.
Britt handed Zander napkins. “Everything’s fine,” she said lightly to Reid. “Apologize to Zander for spilling your drink on him.”
“I didn’t spill my drink—”
“You did,” she insisted.
“If I did, I didn’t mean to.”
Zander ground his teeth.
“Everything’s fine,” Britt whispered to Zander. With those two words she communicated that she trusted him not to wreck her birthday party by causing a scene.
Problem was, Reid had been right about one thing. Zanderwasangry. Angry enough to want to punch Reid in his smug face.
“Sorry about that, man.” Reid bobbed his chin and moved away.
Ferocity and the smell of rum filled Zander’s senses. Frustration beat against his temples.
Britt opened her mouth to say something to him just as the hostess raised her voice and asked the group to follow her into the dining room.
When the guests separated to occupy two long tables, Zander deliberately allowed others who didn’t often get to see Britt the chance to sit near her. He took a chair close to the end of her table, then wished he’d sat at the other table entirely because, from his position, he had a direct view of Reid. Reid sat three seats down from Britt, which didn’t stop him from joking with her throughout the meal.
The harder Zander tried not to watch their interaction, the more a headache built within his skull. By the time everyone rose to watch Britt slice her birthday cake, a vise had tightened around Zander’s head, and his mood had turned into a storm cloud.
Britt saw him approaching and met him halfway.
“I’m going to go,” he said.
Her face fell. “What? No.”
“I’ve got a bad headache.”
“A headache cake and coffee can’t cure?”
“Yeah. I’ll catch up with you later.”
She placed a hand on his forearm. The simple contact instantly stopped his progress.
“I’ll swing by the inn,” she said. “After this.”
“No. Stay here and have a great time. You’ll be exhausted after this.”
“I don’t think so.”
“No, really. Go home and get some sleep. It’s okay.”
A groove formed between her brows.
