Wyn moves next to where Nash sits, and I try listening to the conversation.
“I told her it was a bird, Auntie Wyn,” he says very seriously. “And then Dad said pterosaurs are dinosaurs, which he’s wrong about, because it has ‘saur’ in its name.” He rolls his eyes. “They’re not listening to me. Will you please tell them?”
Wyn smiles at him, and I swear it hits me harder than I expect.Fucking hell.“I didn’t know that either, but I think Uncle Tommy has some books all about dinosaurs in his library. Maybe we can find one and show them that you’re right.”
“I sure do,” the older man next to the detective says. “Wyn, you remember all those books we used to drive the librarian nuts over requesting. What was that old battle-ax’s name again?”
I don’t realize I’m staring again until Lu nudges me. I miss the rest of what they’re saying when Lu decides to start a side conversation with me. “She is beautiful, my oldest daughter. Isn’t she?”
Clearing my throat, I move my full attention to Wyn’s mother as she leans her elbow on the table, propping her chin on her fist. In a lower tone, she adds, “Though she doesn’t know it. The parts you can’t see are even more intriguing when it comes to my daughters.” She looks around the table, and it makes me wonder why the hell she feels so inclined to say any of this to me. Until she pats my arm and quietly adds, “My girls are my entire world, which is why I’d like to request that you get the hell out of here. I don’t know when you would’ve had time to romance my daughter since you arrived, but we both know why you came here.”
What she doesn’t know is that Wyn is the only reason I haven’t left yet. That, and being drugged and tied to a chair.
“That’s how I know you,” I hear as a snapping finger clicks. “You’re Julian Colton,” the woman with the auburn hair in the chair across from me says, slapping the table. She laughs as if she just won a prize at the realization and looks around at the rest of the table. Gawking at Wyn, she says, “You just forgot to mention that you know someone who’s had work in galleries and on red carpets?”
Wyn glances between me and her younger sister. “I haven’t seen Julian in a little while. I haven’t really thought about mentioning it.”
I swallow and hate the way her words fucking hurt. She’s all I’ve been able to think about.
Jo waves her hand in front of her, like she’s annoyed at her sister’s lack of a real response, and focuses back on me. “You designed the emerald-encrusted bustier and that...” Her hands move in a circle above her head. “And the gold crown thing that everyone went crazy for during the Met Gala last year.”
“Jo,” Wyn scolds.
Jo mouths,What?!holding up her hands like she’s unarmed.
People don’t tend to recognize me for the work I’ve done, unless they’re a part of the art world in some way. I’ve had a few higher-profile clients who my father wasn’t thrilled about taking on, but the work was too unique to pass up.
Stevie and Theo start scrolling on their phones, likely looking for what she’s talking about.
Nash asks, “What’s a boost-yay?” He looks at Birdie, and she tries to describe the garment to him. Then she looks to me as she says, “Jo does all of our design work for our business. She paints sometimes too.”
“She makes the prettiest paintings,” Nash adds. Leaning forward, he whisper-shouts, “She says mine are just as good, but I know pretty when I see it.” He shakes his head. “Mine arenotpretty the way hers are.”
“Painting is challenging,” I say to Nash with a smile, and then whisper loudly, “I’m terrible at it.”
“Would I have seen your work anywhere?” I ask, turning my attention to Jo.
She’s already shaking her head before I’ve even finished. “Not that kind of artist.”
“Julian is a big deal,” Wyn interjects. I almost take it as a compliment until sarcasm dances around her words when she adds, “Makes me wonder what he’s doing in our small town to begin with.” She raises her eyebrows at me in challenge, as if I’ll actually answer her. She doesn’t waver, looking me in the eye. She’s not the kind of woman who backs down. The gash in my thigh aches at the reality of that.
Alright, if she wants to play, I’ll play. “You’re forgetting how we met, darling,” I say in a low, teasing tone.
“Please tell me this is something salacious,” her louder of the two sisters interjects.
Theo leans forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on his closed fist. “Feed me with something that’s not as boring as an online hookup or at a fucking farmers market meet-cute…”
Wyn locks eyes with me and then smirks. “He drugged me,” she says, tipping her chin up in the air.
Birdie chokes on her wine.
Wyn’s mother starts laughing next to me.
“That’s not—” I mutter under my breath as the rest of the table erupts. Closing my mouth tight, I shake my head. I can’t believe she just said that.
Wyn’s uncle looks at me like he’s about twenty generous seconds from trying to kick my ass, his chair sliding loudly on the wood floor as he starts to stand. “Wyn?” I don’t doubt he’s waiting for her approval to throw a punch.
“Thomas,” Lu says, trying to calm him or maybe set him off; it’s hard to tell.
