I glance down at my own choice of clothing. I’d thought about wearing something couture to irritate Riggs, but that would’ve made Clarke raise her eyebrows. She’d expect me to be dressed for comfort for a game night, and I do happen to own a few outfits that are off the rack. I chose jeans—a loose boyfriend cut, cuffed at the hem—with a fitted, long-sleeved blouse in blue-gingham check. The ballet flats are designer, but Riggs wouldn’t know looking at them. They’re taupe suede, and he doesn’t look like the type that would recognize Ferragamo.
Aaron greets Riggs and gestures for him to enter. “Hey, man. So glad you could make it.”
Riggs has never been to Aaron and Clarke’s house before, and as he steps over the threshold, there are a hundred interesting things he could choose to look at in the way of décor, art, furniture, or even Aaron standing directly before him. My face flushes when his eyes come right to me. I don’t hear a damn thing Aaron says to him—vague prattle as he closes the door. All I can do is stare back at Riggs.
“Interesting,” Clarke mumbles, and I snap out of my haze, head whipping her way. She’s got a knowing smile punctuated with a smirk.
I glare at her. “Nothing interesting at all.”
She makes a humming sound in her throat, which sounds like agreement, but really, it’s not. She thinks there’s something there by what she’s witnessed, but I’m not going to engage.
Luckily—after shooting me a wink—she moves out of the kitchen and into the living room to greet Riggs. “I’m so glad you decided to hang out with us tonight.” She nods at the bottle of wine in his hand. “Shall I open it?”
He thrusts it at her and says, “Sure. Reason why I brought it.”
“Thank you,” Clarke replies as she accepts the bottle. “That was very thoughtful. I’ll get the corkscrew.”
As she turns away, Aaron claps him on the shoulder. “How about a beer?”
“Definitely,” he replies with a laugh. “I’ll drink wine if there’s nothing else, but I’d rather have a beer.”
“Same, man,” Aaron agrees sympathetically. “Same.”
Both men follow Clarke into the kitchen, and I put the finishing touches on the vegetable tray. I glance up to see Riggs watching me while Aaron takes the corkscrew from Clarke.
He nods at me politely. “Veronica.”
I incline my head toward him. “Riggs.”
I realize that sounds way too formal, maybe even bordering on cool disdain. I don’t want Clarke and Aaron to know about our grievances.
So I level a brilliant smile at him. “We’re going to have a lot of fun tonight. I’m glad you came too.”
Riggs cuts his eyes to Aaron, focused on the wine bottle, then to Clarke, who is focused on our exchange, then back to me. His smile almost takes my breath away as his whole face transforms, making him even more gorgeous. “When Aaron invited me, I couldn’t pass it up. Who doesn’t love a rousing game of Scrabble?”
I laugh, because that sounded like genuine, teasing sarcasm, and Aaron’s head turns our way. “It’s more fun if you bet money on it.”
Riggs snorts. “Child’s play. We used to take a shot every time someone failed to place a word of more than four letters.”
Clarke snickers. “Aaron would be drunk in about ten minutes if we played that way.”
Everyone laughs. A good icebreaker, but I’m still tense.
Riggs is new to our group and thus the outsider. Aaron wants him to become more integrated into the family dynamics of this team. Clarke has silly ideas about us dating, and I’m on edge because Riggs and I started off badly and don’t like each other.
But at least for the moment, all is well.
?
I have to give Aaron credit. He has this Scrabble proposal ironed out so flawlessly, Clarke is never going to see it coming. When it finally happens, she’s going to be bowled over.
We spend the first hour hanging out at the kitchen island chatting and munching on food. In addition to the vegetable tray, which Aaron and Riggs avoid, we have a charcuterie board as well as a sausage queso dip with chips, which both men devour.
I have to admit, Riggs is completely different from how he’s been at our prior meetings. While he’s not completely relaxed, he’s outgoing, and to my surprise, funny. But I sense an underlying sobriety about him, and I’m not talking about the alcohol kind. It’s almost like he’s weighed down with caution and an inherent mistrust that makes him a little standoffish, no matter how much he engages in conversation.
Admittedly, it makes me more curious about him.
The time comes, though, when Aaron suggests we get our Scrabble game going. He has everything set up on the large, square coffee table in the living room where we’ll sit on the floor to play—part of his design to make sure this all goes off without a hitch.