Page 47 of The Unfinished Line

“No chance of that, Kam-Kameryn,” her fingers traveled the wrong direction, back to the safety of my hip, her lips still smiling against my ear. “No way you’re getting off that easy. You dragged us all the way up here. We’re sitting through dinner, dessert, after-supper cocktails, whatever this tradition entails.You have to make nice. Smile. Sit wherever they seat you. Give your parents your full attention. Humor your high school boyfriend—because, really, I’ll say again: heisa nice guy. Do whatever it is you normally do. And all the while knowing,” her mouth traveled down the slope of my neck, her breath warm against my bare collarbone, “that after we leave here tonight, I’d really like to locate that hidden tattoo.”

I didn’t even know a heartbeat could hammer through a hipbone, but I was certain she could feel mine. It was a good thing, I guess, that the soundproofing in the Hallwells’ thirty-million-dollar mansion was no more up to par than the cardboard-thin walls of my apartment. If I hadn’t been able to hear the Christmas music and murmur of voices filtering through the ceiling vent from the floor above, I was positive I would have attempted to convince her that commencing a Where’s Waldo exploration for my quarter-sized tattoo would have been far more gratifying than suffering through dinner with the Northern California edition of Keeping Up With the Kardashians. And despite her teasing showcase of impassivity, I had a feeling it wouldn’t have taken much to change her mind. Which was entirelynotwhat I needed to do in my best friend’s bathroom with my parents sipping cocktails twenty feet above.

Resigned to return to the party, I turned to face her, leaning back against the marble counter asJingle Bell Rockfiltered in through the air duct in the wall.

“You think you’ll get so lucky?” I asked glibly, tossing my hair over my shoulder, aware of the way her eyes lingered against my bare skin. I reached forward, tucking the bruised petal of the orchid into the front pocket of her slacks.

“I do.” There wasn’t even a smile of humility behind her shrug, and I was the one who ended up blushing, foiled at my own coy game. She reached up, toying one final moment with the emerald pendant that hung at my throat—the gift of mybirthstone my parents had given me on my eighteenth birthday—and then drew the tip of her finger up my neck, past my chin, to rest at my bottom lip. “And what’s more,” she said, her green eyes glowing, “I think you’re going to sit up there the rest of the night, unable to think about anything other than how I’m going to find it.”

She leaned forward, having to tip her head up to conquer the height of my heels, and kissed the corner of my mouth. Then, with all the insouciance in the world, she turned, unlocked the bathroom door, and vanished into the hall.

Darlene, of course, won.

I’d wanted to sit next to Dillon. It was what would have been appropriate, given she was my guest and all. But between Dani and her mother, they were never going to let that happen.

Instead, I sat wedged between my parents, forcing myself to swallow down braised duck while doing my best not to stare at the far end of the table, where Dillon and Carter had been squeezed into a corner hardly large enough to accommodate a toddler. Neither seemed to mind. They laughed over things I couldn’t hear, and I watched from the corner of my eye as Dillon surreptitiously pointed out which fork to use for the oysters, saving Carter from what would have been deemed an unforgivable faux pas in the Hallwell household. I wondered where she’d learned the proprieties of an extensive formal dinner setting, and I also wondered what it would feel like to graze my lips along the v-shaped sliver of skin above her top button.

I could feel Dani’s inscrutable gaze on me every time I dared a glance toward that end of the table. She was willing me to misstep, willing me to show something I shouldn’t.

Part of me wanted to pull out my phone and shoot her a text.Whatever your suspicions are, triple them, and then maybeyou’ll be headed in the right direction. But of course, I didn’t.Keep the peace, Kameryn, I told myself. Just get through dinner, tell my parents goodbye, and then—out that door, into the car, and from there, I’d just go with the flow wherever the night led us.

But no, Dillon hadn’t been kidding about forcing me to stick to tradition.

When the meal ended and the majority of guests departed, leaving behind only the immediate family and friends, I tried to make a break for it.

“Well, this evening was lovely, as always, Mrs. Hallwell,” I said as the remaining company worked their way from the dining room to the salon.Thank you, of course, for having ushad been the words waiting at the tip of my tongue. But before I could utter them, Dani had poured herself to my side, balancing between my arm and a life-size sculpture of a muscled torso I thought might be an original Rodin.

“You aren’t skipping out now, are you?” she demanded, teetering on her sky-high stilettos. I could see her husband, Tom, watching from a dozen feet away, gauging whether it was time to intervene.

Do so at your own risk, I thought, but without any true pity. He’d been the one stupid enough to marry her, after all.

“Yep—long drive home.” I carefully extracted my arm from her grasp. If she was going to topple over, she could take the Rodin with her. I wasn’t taking one for the team.

“We still have dessert! And what aboutTwo Truths and a Lie?”

It was the party game they played every single year. It was the last thing I was hanging out for.

“Yeah, what aboutTwo Truths and a Lie?” Dillon appeared, holding a bottle ofPellegrino. “We couldn’t possibly miss that.”

Dani was too drunk to discern the subtlety of her sarcasm.

“See, even your friend wants to stay.” She stumbled, clutching the nub of a severed shoulder, her nails grating down the bronze chiseled six-pack.

Tom made his move, coming to the rescue of his damsel in distress, and I took the opportunity to snag Dillon’s arm, drawing her away from the circus.

“What are you doing?” I hissed once we were tucked safely away in an alcove. “We’ll be here all night!”

“Another hour hanging out with your folks won’t kill you, Kam-Kameryn. Besides, I was promised dessert.”

I jerked my head up too quickly, looking for her double entendre, and was rewarded with a smile that made my spine tingle.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Miss Kingsbury. I was referring to the banana cream tart. Carter said the one served tonight is unparalleled.”

“It’s fromTartine Bakery—I promise, it’s overrated. We can find something better on our own.”

“Well, I guess I’ll need to try the tart first to be the judge of that.” She hiked a brow at me, before tipping her head toward the salon. “Shall we?”

“You’re really going to make me stay here, aren’t you?”

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