He tilts his head, sizing her up. “And you must be the troublemaker I was warned about.”
“Guilty as charged,” she replies without missing a beat.
To anyone else, it would look like they’re flirting. But this is Bree. She’s like this with everyone. Playful, full of energy, all charm and mischief with a dash of sarcasm. I’ve seen her light up rooms like it’s nothing, breaking down walls with a smile and a wink.
He leans in just a bit. “All right, then. What kind of trouble are we talking about here?”
Bree’s smirk deepens, and she lets the words roll off her tongue with a wink. “Oh, you know, the usual. Daring escapades, maybe a little light vandalism here and there.”
Callan throws his head back in laughter, the sound warm and rich and echoing through the room. “Light vandalism, huh? Guess we’ll have to keep a close eye on you while you’re here.”
I bite back a laugh as Bree bats her lashes, playing the innocent act. “Please, I’m an angel,” she declares, her voice so syrupy sweet it’s enough to give someone a cavity.
Angel, my ass.
Bree’s more like a hurricane in heels.
“An angel, huh?” he says, his eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Is that before or after the vandalism?”
“Depends. What’s the statute of limitations around here?”
Bree’s always had a talent for toeing the line without quite stepping over it, and Callan… Well, he seems like the type who enjoys the game as much as she does. But what catches my eye is how he’s looking at her, his eyes following her movements, his expression softer and reading her in a way I don’t think he’s aware of.
Their banter bounces back and forth until Callan’s phone buzzes against the table. The spell breaks for just a second as he glances down, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face before hesmooths it over.
“Looks like I’m being summoned,” he says, pushing back his chair. “Duty calls.”
The second Callan is out of earshot, Bree shifts gears. The teasing fades and she turns her attention back to us.
“Knox, mind if I steal you for a minute?” Her lips quirk as she tilts her head toward me. “I promise I’ll give him back.”
Knox lifts a brow but nods. “Aye, sure.”
Bree doesn’t do unnecessary conversations, which means this has a purpose. I wave them off, forcing a lighthearted grin. “Go on. I’ll just be over here, pretending I don’t want to eavesdrop.” I say it as a joke, but it’s not. I’m dying to know what’s being said.
Knox dips his head, lips brushing my temple. Then he follows Bree a few steps away.
Today’s been easy. No snags, no second-guessing. But old wounds don’t exactly ask permission before they start aching, and that familiar flicker of doubt is tightening its grip.
He isn’t James.
Still, the thought creeps in around the edges, nosy and persistent.
I force my attention elsewhere, trying to anchor myself in the sound of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the rich scent of whisky in the air. I nod and smile absently when someone nearby catches my eye, but my thoughts keep snagging on the sight of Knox with his back to me, broad shoulders blocking any chance of reading either of their expressions.
It’s the not knowing that sets my heart fluttering in a way I don’t like.
I’m so caught up in trying to decode their conversation that I barely register when Knox turns back to me with that stupidly handsome grin. My god, it’s a sight. He doesn’t have to say a word. That smile alone tells me I can exhale.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“More than okay,” he replies. “You want to get out of here?”
“Oh, I don’t think I can. Bree and I are supposed to go out for dinner tonight.”
“Not anymore. Rose’s taking her out tonight.” He leans in close, his lips brushing my ear. “And you’re coming with me.”
The words aren’t loud, but they land with the weight of a promise.
