I just need to approach it day by day.
“What about Archer’s fiancé?” I ignore the pointed stare the hostess is shooting us when she discovers we’re not following behind her any longer. Just how big is this stupid restaurant?
“Yeah. Uh. She’s great.” He smiles and fidgets, releasing my hand so he can run his through his tousled dark hair. “I have a confession to make.”
Dread fills my stomach. “What is it?”
“Sir? Miss? Your table is this way,” the hostess calls, her voice full of hostility that we’re not obeying her command.
We ignore her. “Tell me,” I say when he still hasn’t answered.
Shrugging, he reaches out, trails his index finger down my cheek. “She’s my sister.”
I frown. “Who? Do you mean Archer’s fiancé?”
“Yeah.” He winces. “My best friend is marrying my baby sister.”
“Oh.” I’m sort of offended that he didn’t tell me from the first. Why keep it such a secret? I don’t get it.
Sometimes, I really don’t get him.
“Mister Emerson!” The hostess is practically shouting at us. “Please, follow me!”
We hurry after her, my mind awhirl after his confession. She leads us to the very back of the restaurant, where the private dining rooms are, and I blow out a slow, cleansing breath, trying to calm my agitated nerves.
I thought having sex with Gage in his car would take the edge off, but no, I couldn’t have been more wrong. I feel edgier, more amped up than ever. He’s not helping matters with how sweet he’s being. You’d think I’d like his attitude and want more of it, after all the fighting and the arguing between us.
But I need the distance. I need to focus and think about what exactly I want to say to Archer. Now that I know he’s with Gage’s sister, that Archer is Gage’s best friend, it puts a new spin on their relationship. Puts a new spin on the entire dynamic that’s about to happen once we sit down with them. I knew he and Archer were good friends, but I guess I didn’t realize they were best friends. They’re practically family.
“Here you go.” The hostess stops at an open door that leads to a small dining room, the interior done in cool greens and blues. Gage lets me walk in first, and I spot them sitting at the table. I smile nervously at Archer and his fiancé. Gage’s freaking sister.
God help me, I hope I don’t make a fool of myself in front of her. I want her to like me.
It doesn’t matter if she likes you or not. You’re not looking for a relationship with Gage. You’re having dirty, awesome sex with him. Nothing more, nothing less.
I really wish I could believe that.
Plus, I need to focus on what I really want out of this dinner. A chance to gain exposure for the bakery and my aunt’s desserts by having them featured at his hotel. That’s what matters tonight.
Gage rests his hand at the small of my back, his simple touch making my heart hammer. I watch helplessly as Archer stands and approaches us, a warm smile on his handsome face as he stops in front of me. He’s wearing a suit, just like everyone else in this restaurant save for me and Gage, and he’s intimidating despite the friendly expression.
“Marina, it’s wonderful to see you.” Leaning in, he presses the requisite society kiss to my cheek. “You’re looking ravishing tonight.”
Oh. God. I want to die. He is so close to the truth it’s embarrassing. Does he know Gage ravished me? Can he tell? Am I wearing a flashing sign on my forehead that screams freshly fucked?
Gage’s low chuckle doesn’t help matters either. If he doesn’t watch it, he’s going to end up with an elbow in the ribs.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice shaky, and I clear my throat. “So glad you’re able to have dinner tonight with us, Archer. I know it was last minute.”
“Anything for Gage.” He flashes him a quick, smug smile. “I may think he’s a complete asshole, but considering he’s going to be my brother-in-law in less than a year, I guess I need to start thinking of him as part of my family.”
“Oh, stop being so rude.” His fiancé approaches us as well, her expression open. Friendly. Curious. “I’m Ivy. Gage’s sister. You must be Marina.” She extends her hand toward me.
“Nice to meet you,” I offer weakly, overwhelmed as she takes my hand and shakes it. I don’t want to screw this up, and I’m going to if I don’t watch it. I can barely keep my crap together as I stand before these two people.
I need to chill out.
Ivy’s wearing a red wrap-style dress, looking effortless and elegant, and again I feel like an idiot in my jeans. I blame working at the bakery for my lack of dressy clothes. I have them, I just don’t bother wearing them much anymore. I’m always in jeans.