Page 35 of The Betrothal

“Is there anyone you don’t flirt with?” Alex growled.

“You?” Seb’s reply was instant and a laugh burst past my lips as Ben openly smirked opposite me, his light eyes dancing at the joke at his brother’s expense.

“Something I’m thankful for every single day.”

Alex stabbed the pasta slightly too hard, the fork clanking against the plate.

Ben stood quickly, collecting his now empty plate and turning his attention to cleaning up, diligently tidying the surface while the other men ate in silence. My plate finished, I sat quietly, until finally everyone had also eaten.

By that point the surfaces were spotless and Ben had taken up residence at the sink. Alex rose and the bench slid backwards, the screech making me shudder. He approached the sink, Ben allowing him to slip the plate into the water, a quiet word exchanged and he left.

Seb then followed, collecting the rest of the items on the table and sliding the plates into the bowl of soapy water. I heard his thanks and Ben’s reply that he needn’t thank him, Seb’s charm softening into a sincere smile.

I stood, approaching as Seb shifted away. I stopped short, at the distance I was coming to realise was the closest Ben could accommodate. One that meant we could reach out fully and not really come into contact with one another. A comfortable distance because it was his preference, or because he couldn’t interact with me in such a way from any greater distance, I didn’t know.

He paused what he was doing, shaking off his hands and dabbing them carefully on a cloth by the sink before he turned, fully, to face me, giving me his full attention.

The corner of his lip quirked and he extended his arm, I mirrored him, passing my plate.

“Thank you, Ben.” He took it from my hold.

He tilted his head, looking at my feet and the distance between us. “Thank you, Izzy.”

CHAPTER TEN

SEBASTIAN

“You’re being a dick.” I spoke before I had even opened the door fully.

Alex sat at the large desk facing the wall opposite where long windows allowed light to flood into the office. The aspect outside was vast, you could see the lake and the edges of the outhouses, the entrance to the barn where Ben had returned to whatever it was he was working on.

He didn’t respond so I sauntered in his direction, knowing my attitude in his space would rankle him enough to draw a reply, and it did. No sooner had I propped myself leisurely against the edge of the mahogany surface than he’d thrown down the pen and twisted the leather chair to face me.

Slowly he crossed one foot over the other, relaxing his body into the seat, although his mood was anything but relaxed.

“I’m being myself.” He cracked the knuckles of one hand.

Alex could never be still, it was as if he thought that by committing to an action, no matter how small, he could influence the future. Control the uncontrollable. As if his endless effort would guarantee the outcome he needed.

It didn’t not work.

“No argument there, but you were raised, well, I might add. So, there’s no excuse for your surliness.”

He scoffed at my comment.

“She’s an imposition,” he stated.

“She’s spooked. And you’re making her uncomfortable.”

His brows rose. “I am not making her uncomfortable. I’m just not actively making her comfortable.”

My laugh wasn’t full of humour.

Shoving away from the desk, I dragged over an armchair from beside the fireplace. “With you there’s hardly a difference.” I fell into the chair, the message clear to Alex, I’m not letting go of this one.

“Why do you care? She’ll be gone when the snow thaws.”

I shrugged. “I like her.”