The pot was burning my hands.
I set it down and Saint raised his head. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe he hadn’t known I was there all along—I knew him as well as he let anyone—but he nodded like it was brand-new information all the same, and inclined his head.All right?
The silent enquiry was a question, not a greeting, cos he knew me too. And he was a hard man to lie to.
Ask me how I knew.
I shrugged as Embry stepped out of the kitchen with the meat sauce, and understanding warmed Saint’s gaze. He straightened up and took his seat, flicking me a look.
Later, bro.
Hopefully by that he meant never.
* * *
Most church sessions started with dinner.
Or a row.
Couldn’t say I’d ever attended one where our VP dumped three bags of tampons on the table.
Cam peered around Alexei. “The fuck is all that?”
Nash shrugged. “Machine broke, so Orla ripped it off the wall and threw it at my head. Said it was archaic and sexist that we were making women pay for them in the first place.”
“We charge dudes for rubbers and lube in the gents,” Cam reasoned.
Nash grimaced. “Said that. Regretted it.”
Saint leaned forward and picked up a box. He pointed at the label with a cocked brow.
It was scented tissues.
For men.
Nash rolled his eyes. “I sent the prospect with the Jordans and the quiff to Tesco. Apparently, it ain’t just his hair that’s fucking stupid.”
“You think we have time for this now?” Cam growled.
Nash met Cam’s glare with a rare one of his own. “If I walk away when your sister’s tearing me a new one, she knows something’s up. You want her to come in here and see your face like that?”
Awesome. Shit was fucked up enough that Nash, the calmest bloke on the planet, was ready to throw hands with the president.
La hostia. I pushed my chair back and rounded the table to the pile of boxes. In fairness, some were tampons. Others were random as hell. I shoved the bullshit into one bag and the good stuff into another. “That prospect ain’t getting a patch.”
Cam grunted, still stink-eyeing Nash. “Agreed. Can you...?” He waved a hand at the bags.
I nodded and took them out, finding the nearest old lady to hand them off to.
When I came back, Rubi was helping Embry hand out plates and dish up.
My psycho-jealous-wanker button was having a day off. I acknowledged Cam’s nodded thanks and took my seat, trying not to follow Embry’s every move. My freak out from the kitchen was still there, sharp-edged and valid as fuck, but watching him was better than therapy. He had the best arms. Lean biceps like a rock climber. Forearms with cute veins that made me weak at the knees.
He caught me looking, naturally, but there was too much going on for him to react. It was dinnertime, but Cam was about to drop a bomb on us, I could tell. The tension was biblical. Everyone ate to keep him happy, even Alexei. And the fact that Cam didn’t notice we’d turbo-charged his ma’s mince and onions unnerved the shit out of me.
Done eating, I pushed my plate away. Embry swiped the potatoes I’d left, and it made me so suddenly and deliriously fucking happy that I squeezed his thigh under the table.
Oops.
