Cade laughs, leaning over and whispering something into Ansel’s ear, and from the corner of my eye, I see Wylder’s shoulders bunch further around his ears.
“Wylder, you should have better control over your family,” she says, sipping on her wine. “Allowing them to treat a guest this way, especially one who’s been invited, is simply uncalled for.”
I roll my eyes. “You insulting the chef was uncalled for, sweetie. Treat others how you want to be treated, and maybe you’ll see things improve.”
Candace’s snotty gaze lands on me. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Just the plates you’re eating off are worth more than you’ll ever earn in your lifetime.”
“Enough,” Wylder says suddenly. He pins Candace with a lookfull of so much venom that it almost makes me swoon. “I won’t allow you to speak to my friends and family in that manner.”
“But it’s okay for them to speak to me like this?” Candace’s voice is a little quieter, like she’s unsure what to do with this version of Wylder.
I know exactly what I’d do with him. I’d run.
Then let him chase me.
Wylder exhales. “No, but I can’t blame them. I should never have invited you here tonight.”
“Why did you, then?”
Everyone’s heads are swiveling between them, like we’re witnessing some absurd tennis match.
Wylder doesn’t answer her. Not with words. But his gaze lingers on me a little too long, long enough for me to know exactly why he invited her.
To send a message to me.
My heart sinks all the way to my boots.
“Let’s continue with dinner,” Wylder says eventually. “I’m trusting that we can all behave?”
A low grumble moves over the table, but I wait for Candace’s response.
She offers Wylder an asinine smile. “Of course. I know you were all raised to the highest of standards. Your father would be rolling in his grave if he knew how you behaved around his table.”
A deathly silence descends.
But it’s Wylder I look to. His shoulders are drooped, like he’s carrying the weight of the world. The worst part? He doesn’t seem shocked or bothered by this.
He seems resigned.
Despite the ache in my chest, I can’t help but want to comfort him. To remind him he’s not alone.
I reach over and touch his thigh, feeling the muscle there tighten and bunch under my fingers.
He peers over at me, and I bite my bottom lip.
His gaze flicks to it and then back to my eyes.
“Wylder,” Candace bites out, and he drags his gaze back to her. “Can you stop staring at that…that…nobody.”
Ansel gasps, outraged on my behalf.
“He’s an imposition. Why is he even here?” she continues hotly. Wylder’s thigh tightens under my palm.
The harsh word she used doesn’t sting. It did when Wylder said it, but Candace…doesn’t faze me. She’s aiming to hurt, but she doesn’t have any power over me.
I wish she didn’t have the power to hurt Wylder.
Wylder’s eyes flash. “Do not speak about him that way.”
