I flopped back on my pillow, dragging out a long yawn that ended with a squeal and a stretch.
“So … Dalton, huh?”
“Arrrghhhh!” I growled and punched my pillow. Get out of my head! Cocky bastard.
Straight after posing that leading question last night, the attendant arrived to usher us to our table, thus saving me from answering. Casey had placed his hand on the small of my back, hovering close as we were led through crowds of people taking their seats. Thinking back, the gesture hadn’t irritated me like I would’ve thought. The warm flutters in my belly told me I liked it. More than a little. Dalton had never been solicitous that way, but he’d also never forcefully pinned me against the wall and called me a bitch either.
After sitting down at our designated table, Henry on my left and Casey on my right, an attending waiter poured iced water into our glasses and took beverage orders. Five minutes later, the lights dimmed and the host walked on stage. The lighting turned blue and purple and a bright spotlight hit the clear perspex podium where he began his opening speech. Henry began drumming his fingers on the table, so clearly nervous that my heart did a little flip for him. I grabbed his hand in mine, stilling it. He looked at me and smiled. The gesture was obviously meant to reassure me he was fine, but it came off more like a grimace.
Leaning in so he could hear, I said, “Chill, Henry Bear. I want to say I can’t believe you’re here, playing at such a huge event, but I can.” My chest swelled with pride for my brother. “Thank you for including me. For having me here. Watching you play this afternoon was incredible, seeing how all your talent and hard work has paid off.” I gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. “You’ve got this.”
Quinn cleared her throat from the seat on the other side of Henry. She inclined her head around him so she looked directly at me. “Did you just say ‘you’ve got this?’ Because really, it sounded like you did, and whenever anyone says that it makes me nervous.”
My brows flew up. “Oh. Um …”
“Nervous?” Travis laughed from his seat beside Quinn. “Don’t you mean aggressive? Because someone saying that is usually preceded by you throwing a chair.”
The entire table erupted in laughter, but I didn’t quite get the joke, and Quinn was the only other person besides me who wasn’t joining in. In fact, she was sitting there with pursed lips. “Perhaps next time I’ll just try the direct approach that Mac usually favours.”
Casey tensed beside me and Travis’s sharp green eyes turned flat and hard as he glared at his wife, making me wonder what that approach was. “You’ll do no such thing.”
The abrupt change in Travis from relaxed to something so incredibly fierce and primal left me dazed. He’d been the epitome of cool since the moment I met him—until now. Quinn raised her brows coolly as I watched the exchange with wide eyes.
“And there’ll be no next time,” he added, kicking back in his chair and folding his arms.
“Rein in your man, Quinn,” Mac commanded. “He’s getting out of control.”
Travis turned his glare on his sister. “Are you kidding me?”
Leaning close to Henry, I whispered, “What’s the Mac approach?”
“Guns,” he replied with a shake of his head.
“Guns?” I repeated, not quite sure I heard him right.
“Tell you later,” he muttered as everyone started weighing in with an opinion. Voices were getting loud enough for surrounding guests to turn in their seats. Seeing Casey reach for my bag from my peripheral vision distracted me from the escalating altercation. I gave him my full attention. “What are you doing?”
Ignoring me, he rummaged through the contents. I only had a moment to cringe at the thought of a close encounter of the tampon kind before he plucked out my phone and proceeded to switch it on. The screen came to life, prompting my four-digit passcode.
Casey’s finger hovered over the keypad. “What’s the code, Slim?”
“I’m going to tell you because …?”
He rubbed his hand over his smoothly shaven jaw. My eyes tracked the movement and I realised I wanted the stubble back. It took the edge off his beauty, giving him that rough just-rolled-out-of-bed look. Conscious of the fact I’d been staring at his jaw for longer than a mere glance, I flicked my eyes upwards and found him watching me. He crooked his finger.
“What?” I blurted out.
Casey simply cocked his head in reply and waited.
What game was he playing now? Keeping up proved almost impossible. Exhaling in a huff, I leaned in, saying a little more quietly, “What?”