Saint had arrived.
Her hands stopped moving, and she forgot what the hell she was doing until Gator grabbed a strawberry chunk from her bowl and threw it at her forehead. It bounced off, landing right back in the bowl.
“Score,” he cried out, raising his arms in victory.
Beth blinked. Okay, she could do this. She could act normal around the man she’d slept with. The one who would cause out-of-control drama in the club if anyone found out. Well, anyone but Gator, apparently.
“Ew,” she said as she wiped her head with the back of her hand. “That’s your piece. You’d better eat it without touching another strawberry.”
Rolling his eyes, Gator grabbed the hunk of chopped strawberry and popped it into his mouth. “Yummy.” He waggled his eyebrows.
And then Saint was there, standing behind her, and she could barely breathe as her body went on high alert. Now that he’d seen and touched all of her, now that he’d been inside her, she seemed to be aware of him on a visceral level. Her skin prickled with heat. Her breath came shorter. Every nerve ending was tuned to his presence like a compass finding north.
“Good morning,” Saint said as he took the seat beside her.
“What’s up, brother?” Gator asked, holding out a fist, which Saint bumped.
Beth risked a sideways glance his way. Thank God he wasn’t wearing the same thing he’d had on last night. She might expire on the spot if she had to sit there and listen to the guys grill him about who he’d been with the night before.
“Hey,” she said in a breathless, high-pitched voice that sounded nothing like her usual self.
Wow, Gator mouthed because she was looking across the table at him instead of at Saint. “You suck at this.”
Pull yourself together.
If she didn’t figure out a way to act normal, she’d be the one to give the entire thing away. Copper was no one’s fool. If she acted like a lovesick teenager, he’d pick up on it right away. Maybe she should feign a stomachache and go home before she fucked the entire thing up.
Saint faced her with a raised eyebrow. “Want some help with that?”
“Nope. I’m good.” So good, in fact, he should go somewhere else before she did something stupid like climb in his lap and kiss the hell out of him. How did he look so good early in the morning after climbing out of a damn window? She needed a gallon of coffee, under-eye patches, and more coffee to feel halfway human, and here he was looking like a damn snack after performing high-level evasive maneuvers.
At least no one saw him.
Wait, no one saw him, right?
Her heart kicked into gear, slamming against her rib cage. For all she knew, one of Saint’s brothers saw him sneaking out of the room, and they now had to trust he could keep this massive secret, which would never happen because who’d keep secrets from their president?
Gator.Gator would keep the secret, and that meant he’d be in a horrible position if anyone found that out. This was so bad.Why had she slept with Saint?
The worst part of it all was how she couldn’t regret it. If she had to go back in time, she’d probably do it again. She liked him. Liked him in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time. And that was an enormous problem. What the hell was she supposed to do about these feelings? How could they ever try forsomething more with a Copper-sized obstacle directly in their path?
Her stomach flipped. She wouldn’t be able to eat a bite of breakfast at this point.
A knee pressed against hers. Instead of jolting, her heart rate immediately settled.
Saint.
After a glance around, revealing no one paid their trio any attention, Beth turned to look at him.
He sat with as relaxed a posture as he could, resting back in his chair and looking mouth-watering in his customary T-shirt, jeans, and HHMC cut.Breathe,he mouthed. “No one suspects. I got you.”
Strong, solid, protective as hell, Saint.
She did as he asked, taking a cleansing breath before turning back to finish cutting a hundred strawberries. Across from her, Gator stared with a shrewd expression. His smile changed from the roguish one he typically sported to one of surprise and even acceptance.
“Oh,” he muttered.
“Gator…” Saint’s tone left no room for misinterpretation. If Gator didn’t shut up, Saint would knock him out.
