“Well, that’s all of you.” I place my wine down. I might need something stronger.
And as if reading my mind, Danny stands. “I need a drink.”
“Help yourself.” I motion to the drinks cabinet and watch as he pours himself a Scotch, James joining him and helping himself to the Grey Goose.
“Well, if we’re resorting to alcohol,” Jude says, checking the fridge below. “Any champagne?”
“Second shelf,” I wave a hand, at a loss.
“You know, violence isn’t the flex you think it is,” Dec says quietly from his place by the dining table, making every man in the room still and look at him. “Staying is better.”
There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence.
“Well,” Ty murmurs, passing Jude a corkscrew. “That just raised the emotional temperature.”
“Fuck me,” Becker breathes. “I could’ve stolen the top spot and be halfway to Rome faster than you lot can pull your heads out your arses.” He gazes at me, like I might be able to wrangle everyone. He’s a joke. He’s one of the worst.
“What?” I ask.
“Nice clock.”
I look over my shoulder to my grandfather’s carriage clock. “The clock stays,” I tell him with a ton of warning.
“Okay,” Frank muscles in and claims a tumbler, holding it out for Danny to pour. I smile when The Brit looks down Frank’s body, like, what the hell are you wearing and where the hell did you come from?
1816, Danny.
“If we’re talking charm, wit and devastating,” Frank toasts the air. “Then?—”
“You’re not winning,” Josh finishes. “Pipe down, rake boy.”
“Gentleman,” Johnny steps forward, chest proud, eyes gleaming dangerously. “The top should, without question or lengthy debate, be awarded to a gentleman who understands restraint.”
“Restraint?” Ryan shows pure amusement. “Didn’t you once challenge a man to a duel over a single look?”
“He deserved it.” Johnny pulls out a pistol.
“You gave the duke a gun too?” Jesse blurts, outraged, waving a limp, pointed finger the duke’s way.
“Wow, look at that.” Danny, unusually disarmed, moves in and takes in the antique weapon. “Automatic?”
“What?” Johnny looks at him like he’s been resurrected.Ironic.
“What if the top isn’t about dominance?” Jack asks.
“It is,” Jesse mutters.
“What if it’s about who women trust most.”
“Trust? You had an affair.” Jesse laughs, head thrown back and all.
“You want me to list all your wrongs?” Jack fires back with serious intent.
Jesse doesn’t shrink. Not outwardly anyway.
I watch on a secret smile as Ty slowly and discreetly takes one step back. As does Becker. Jesse looks left and right without moving his head. Josh bites into his bottom lip, checking all the other men. Brad leans back on his heels. Jude freezes and then jumps when the champagne cork shoots out and hits the ceiling. My playboys.
“Alright, that stung,” Jesse says quietly.
