Why, yes. Yes, I have just used body language to communicate that he ismine, and they can allback the fuck up.
It’s mostly for Addison’s benefit.
On a scale of one to ten, she can suck mud out of a straw every time she’s thirsty for the rest of her life for all I care.
“I have definitely made mistakes in my life,” Grey says slowly, “but I don’t think I’ve ever stabbed a friend in the back for a few minutes of fame.”
“Isn’t he sweet?” I say to Devi’s brother, who’s leaning in with his new fiancée, listening closely to all of us.
“I’d go with smart,” Isabella murmurs behind us.
“That too,” I toss over my shoulder with a smile.
Grey leans just out of my reach to bend and simultaneously scratch Jitter behind his big, floppy brown ears while pushing him out of his crotch.
Addison looks at me, then at Grey, then back to me. You canseethe wheels turning.
The extrapolations.
The calculations.
The excitement at what she’s sniffing out as news.Can I be the first one to tell the entire town that Sabrina’s dating her boss?
“You donotwant to do that,” I say softly, still smiling. “Not tome.”
Jitter pushes against Grey’s legs while the man himself watches me have a stare-down with the woman who became my mortal enemy when she uploaded Emma’s wedding video all over social media.
She shouldn’t even be here.
She works in Denver.
And—as off gossip as I am—I would’ve heard if she’d lost her job or had decided to move home.
Also, being off gossip doesn’t mean I wouldn’t drop every secret I know about Addison to get her to back the fuck off and mind her own damn business.
She goes a teensy bit pale. “I heard Emma’s home.”
“Have you also heard Theo has about a dozen get-out-of-jail-free cards from the sheriff?” I ask.
She fully blanches now.
I still don’t blink. “Grey, you haven’t eaten yet. Come on. Let’s get you some dinner.”
“Nice to meet you,” he says to Addison, and I feel like we’re back in Hawaii.
Playing off each other. Not hating each other. Not trying to sniff out an angle.
The suspicion is still there, but that could be my imagination.
Or my conscience.
“Off gossip, hmm?” he murmurs to me as I tug Jitter along to make a path for us through the crowd and up to the counter.
“Don’t test me when it comes to the people and things I love.”
“I didn’t need a save.”
“You would’ve preferred tonotknow who she was and what she did?”
