“What are you doing?” I lean in and whisper with a forced smile. Although my gaze is locked on Declan’s, I can feel the reporter’s eyes tracking my every move.
He reaches out and tucks a braid behind my ear. “Selling a story,” he whispers.
“Then settle down, Romeo. This is a romance, not a porno.”
The way his eyes brighten has nothing to do with the candlelight. “Fine.” He grows bolder with his touches as his thumb traces my bottom lip. It sends a rush of warmth through my body.
“So, I was thinking…” I speak louder, gaining the attention of my target.
“That can never be a good thing.”
I laugh as I shove his shoulder. “Shut up. We both know you actually like my brain.”
“I like your heart more.”
For someone who sucks at using anything but grunts and orders to communicate, he sure knows how to make my insides melt from a single sentence.
Except it’s all a lie.“That’s…sweet.”
His lips press together in a thin line. I wonder if he does it to stop himself from laughing aloud.
“Anyway…I thought we could do something fun this weekend.”
“Definefun.”
“I want to host a little family get-together.”
His eyes speak of a hundred unspoken promises. There is no way he will go along with this plan, but it’s fun to pretend for the reporter’s sake.
“What kind of get-together?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“An F1 watch party!” This time, my smile is genuine. The idea seems like the perfect way to help Rowan and Declan get over their disagreement. Plus, I would love to spend more time with Zahra, even if it’s only for a couple of hours.
“No.”
I frown. “Why not? Rowan will be in town for a budget meeting, so it’s the perfect time for all of us to get together.”
He avoids my gaze as he assesses his menu. “That’s our thing.”
The way he says it makes my body buzz. “If you had it your way, everything would beourthingso that you never had to share me with anyone else, you territorial caveman.”
“I’m glad you finally understand. It took you long enough.”
Through the corner of my eye, I catch the reporter smiling at us.
“You can turn it down a notch. We’re married now. No one is going to swoop in and take me away from you. Although…”
“Don’t.”
The reporter scoots her chair a few inches closer.
“I would leave you for one man and one man only.”
He raises a brow. The reporter nearly tumbles out of her chair from the way she leans forward to hear us.
I throw my hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, maybe two men. Absolutely three tops!”
He sighs. “This list of F1 drivers seems to be growing by the week.”