I twisted my head to see him scowling.
And I laughed to myself, because I liked it. Give me anger. Give me annoyance. Just give me something.
I raised my eyebrows in expectation and waved my hand, inviting him to reissue the order to Patrick.
“Camellia Grill,” he told Patrick.
And I slipped my phone into my breast pocket, hoping I wouldn’t need it at dinner.
SEVENTEEN
EASTON
Letting Tyler Marek push me into corners and whisper into my ear right under the noses of everyone around us was going to get me into trouble.
And him.
He had a lot to lose, too.
So why wasn’t I ending it?
I was standing in the middle of a burning room, daring myself to stay as long as possible before it was time to run.
“Are you ready?”
Jack looked over the hood at me, straightening his navy blue and pink polka-dot tie over his pink pin-striped shirt. Not many men would brave such a color, but New Orleans men were a different animal, and it looked good on him. Especially with his matching navy blue slacks.
I smiled lazily. “Ready for what?” I asked, glancing at Kristen Meyer as she climbed out of the back of Jack’s Jeep.
Tyler had said I could bring a friend, and I thought it would be more comfortable – or comforting – to have backup when I knew Jack was going to spend his afternoon schmoozing.
“Are you ready for the party?” Jack repeated. “You’re Miss Antisocial-Constantly-Uncomfortable-Wants-to-Be-Home-Instead-of-at-a-Party-Ever, so I guess I shouldn’t worry, right?”
His lips were spread from ear to ear, pleased with his own assessment of me, and I just rolled my eyes.
“Ah.” Kristen spoke up, smoothing down her sleeveless knee-length peach dress. “So it’s not just me. She’s always difficult.”
She shot me a joking glare as she put her hands on her hips and grinned.
Apparently she thought we were close enough to insult each other in good humor.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Just because I don’t bounce around like I’m in a Skittles commercial doesn’t mean I’m difficult.”
And I walked off, hearing their snorts behind me as they followed.
I almost went for the side door, next to the covered driveway, but I caught myself just in time, remembering I had to keep up the pretense that I’d never been here and most guests wouldn’t use that door. Of course, my brother was informed about how close Marek and I had gotten, but that didn’t mean I could be careless.
Before we even reached the front door, though, it opened, a butler I hadn’t seen before greeting us.
“Good afternoon.”
“Hello.” I nodded, taking a few steps into the entryway and stopping.
Kristen and Jack strolled in behind me, and the sunlight fanning across the floor slowly fell away as the door closed.
I inhaled and instantly dipped my head, trying to hide the smile caused by the flutters in my stomach. I loved his smell, and I suddenly realized my new favorite place was being curled up in his sheets, where that scent covered me.
“Ms. Bradbury,” I heard a voice say from above.
I looked up, seeing Christian descend the dark hardwood stairs with one hand on the cast-iron railing, and I immediately felt a light layer of sweat break out on my forehead.
Yes, this was definitely inappropriate. I shouldn’t have come.
“I didn’t know you’d be here.” He looked at me quizzically as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
Yeah, I shouldn’t be, should I?
I forced a smile, taking him in. I was glad to see I hadn’t over- or underdressed.
He wore black slacks with black shoes, and while he hadn’t put on a tie, he still looked dressy in a light blue oxford with his sleeves rolled up. I’d decided to take advantage of the warm October weather and wore a sleeveless dress that fell just above my knees, but while it was mostly white, it was filled with a spatter of pink and blue flowers in the middle that looked a lot like a watercolor painting. It was vintage, and I loved it.
“Hi, Christian,” I greeted in a light voice. The pleasant-teacher one I used for the students. “Yes, your father invited me. This is my brother, Jack.” I waved my hand, joking, “He’s nicer than me. I promise.”
He nodded but didn’t smile.
“And you know Ms. Meyer.” I gestured to Kristen.
Christian gave her a half smile, but there was something that still wasn’t right. I didn’t know if he’d already been put off before we got here, or if it was my overactive sense of guilt that he might not want me here, but he seemed displeased about something.
We’d made some progress in class, and his work outside of the classroom was excellent. Whatever was bothering him wasn’t getting in the way of his performance, so I could only hope it had nothing to do with me.
The quiet butler in his white jacket and black tie approached us. “Everyone’s out back,” he told us. “Down the hall and you’ll see the glass doors.”
“Yeah,” Christian spoke up. “Follow me.”
And he turned around, leading us to the back of the house. The echo of mine and Kristen’s heels drowned out any other sound as Christian took us across the white marble floors of the entryway to the slate tiles of the kitchen toward the French doors leading out to the patio.
“Wow. Look at this place.” Kristen’s whisper was filled with awe.
But I refused to look around. If I did, I’d see the door leading to the study where he’d mauled me four days ago or the stove where I’d made breakfast wearing only his shirt.