“This is like dramatic theater,” he whispers as he takes a bite, eyes rolling back in his head. “Fuck, this is so good. You should try some.”
As Harley continues to shout at Candace to shut up, Dalton slow-clapping as he does so, Ansel pushes a bite into my mouth. Flavor explodes on my tongue. Jules really outdid himself on this one. I mean, really, this is fantastic.
Across the table, I see Samson lean forward, the tapping under the table growing louder as Harley fumes. I brace myself to intervene, noting Matthias and Wylder doing the same. Much as we hate Candace, we can’t let our siblings murder her.
If Wylder was pissed about the rug, just think how mad he’d be about his girlfriend’s blood staining the table. We’d never hear the end of it.
Harley is standing now, his face puce. “You come into our house, eat our food?—”
“I hardly ate,” Candace retorts. “Maybe if the chef had done a better job of catering toallhis guests…”
“I’m gonna pull out your teeth one by one.”
She only sneers at him.
“Hey, hey.” Ansel waves his hand, clearly feeling the second glass of wine. “Sit down. Just chill.”
Harley turns his glower on Ansel. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
That gets my hackles up. I don’t bother to pull out my dagger. I’m dangerous enough without it. “Listen to him, Harley. And don’t speak to my boyfriend that way or so fucking help me…”
Harley exhales slowly and nods. He offers Ansel a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Ansel. I’m just so fucking mad.”
“No problem,” Ansel replies, slicing Harley a bit of the tarte. “Eat this, it will make you feel better. Your chef outdid himself.”
Said chef is now leaning against the wall, staring at Harley. His arms are folded over his chest as he intently watches my youngest brother.
Can’t he see that Harley’s obsessed with him? After tonight’s little display, I’m not sure he can miss it.
Harley takes a bite begrudgingly. His bad mood seems to evaporate instantly as he gives a little sigh. Against the wall, Jules grins.
“And why doesheget the respect? Ansel is a nobody,” Candace says, loud enough for us to hear. “You don’t stand up for me like that, Wylder. Honestly, it’s ridiculous. I’ve been with you for two years.”
“Two years too long,” Samson grunts out. Dalton tries to cover his laugh with a cough.
Candace either doesn’t hear him or chooses to ignore him. “You and your brothers and your chef have been nothing less than rude to me. Honestly, I don’t know why I stay.”
Wylder’s stroking his chin as he studies her. He’s listening, that much is obvious…but I don’t think she’s going to get the reaction she thinks she is.
My eldest brother is like a slumbering volcano. Ninety-nine percent of the time, he’s peaceful. Quiet. Content to let everyone walk all over him.
But then there’s that other one percent. When the pressure builds and builds, demanding to be released.
Everyone runs then.
I can tell Wylder is nearing that point right now. He’s put up with a lot from Candace, but attacking us this openly? His family?
He’s going to explode.
I try to defuse the tension by laughing softly. Honestly, the whole situation is ridiculous if you think about it.
Candace hears and latches on to it, her eyes narrowing at me. “Your brothers are nothing more than rogue heathens. You are themost immature men I’ve ever met. Especially you, Cade, with your fucking nineties music. Seriously, do you not realize how dumb it makes you look? You’re just a child. It’s no wonder you’ve made it well into your thirties without a serious relationship. It won’t be long before Ansel realizes what you’re really like—then he’ll leave, too.”
A whoosh of breath leaves me as her barb hits home.
Samson’s knife slams down on the top of the table, and Harley jumps up again, ready to fight. Even Dalton and Matthias have shoved their chairs back slightly.
Wylder has gone an odd shade of reddish purple. “Candace, you have crossed a fuckingline.”
