Page 20 of His Lovebug

Going to be late. Sorry, Baby Girl.

Quin

I can’t hold dinner because we have a guest.

The dots that indicated he was typing went on for a while, and I was suspicious that he might’ve deleted a long rant when all I got back was a thumbs-up. Huffing, I set the table.

I spotted Royal hanging around just outside the dining room. “Will you join us?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if Matt would like that.”

“You’re his friend,” I said with a frown.

“Yeah, but Jackson’s not, and I suspect me stuffing my face won’t qualify askeeping an eye on the situationas far as he’s concerned.”

Thoroughly fed up with everything, I searched the house until I found Jackson near the pool in his swim trunks.

“Dinner,” I said, and I could hear the irritation in my voice, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.

Of course, he didn’t change. He just wandered in and sat at the table, muscled chest on display. I didn’t bother trying to start any sort of conversation, simply smiled. “Please enjoy.” With that, I dug into my own food.

He took several bites before he stopped to stare at me.

“What?” I asked, then sipped my water.

He grabbed his glass—merlot that would go with the red meat—and sucked down half of it. “It’s good! That’s unexpected.”

I scowled. “Why? Because Bethany couldn’t cook?”

He shrugged.

“I’m not her,” I said quietly, then popped a piece of flaky crust into my mouth.

We ate in silence for a few minutes, and then he used his fork to point around the table. “This is a long-haul job.” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“It’s not a con. I love Matt and want to be with him,” I said simply.

He frowned as if he just didn’t get that, and I kind of felt bad for him, which was stupid, but there it was. Either he couldn’t fathom anyone being loyal to him or he couldn’t imagine being that for someone else. It was sad.

“So, have you ever been to Rio?” he asked, out of nowhere.

“Twice,” I said.

His eyes lit up, and before I knew it, we were in a conversation about traveling, which I’d done a lot. By the time dessert was finished, I was tired from smiling and laughing, and back around to understanding how he took people in. It was more subtle than watching my mother work but ultimately the same thing. I’d never been on the receiving end, though, and I could see how someone might feel very flattered under all the attention.

“You know, I was reading about seahorses the other day,” he said, then sipped his wine. At one point he’d gotten up to go get the bottle from the kitchen and it was empty now. “Did you know the males have the babies?”

Grinning, I shook my head. “They don’t actually have them, they just carry around the eggs until the teeny horses hatch and then squirt them out.”

He snorted. “You’re lucky you can’t carry babies or I’m sure Matt would have you knocked up by now.”

My face heated and I cleared my throat, then sipped at my water.

“Oh, I struck a nerve,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Tell me about what my brother does to you.”

My stomach clenched. Despite my best intentions, I’d allowed him to lure me into dangerous conversational territory.

“I have to, um, put away the food or the meat will spoil,” I said, then shot to my feet.

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