Page 26 of Captured By the Billionaire Cowboy
“Yes, it is.”
“It most definitely is not.”
“What do you think it is?”
“A crime.”
Ciara made a face as she leaned back on the puffy green cushion. They sat in a corner booth at The Bread Bowl, an old-fashioned restaurant with emerald and white lace tablecloths, brightly colored tiles and a miniature harp on every table, a homage to the symbol of Ireland and its rich musical history. The walls were crafted of exposed brick, with a giant gap exposing chefs who kneaded dough with expert efficiency. It was a place where people enjoyed life’s little pleasures, where old and new friends talked, laughed and ate.
The scent of fresh bread hovered in the air, that delectable combination of flour and buttermilk. Only in this cafe, unique flavors and scents mingled with the expected aromas. Ciara had just been served a buttery bowl, this time devoid of tortilla chips, jelly and French fries in lieu of a more traditional Irish stew of well-cooked potatoes, bright orange carrots, thick onions slices and a hearty assortment of traditional spices. It was home andhearth in a meal, a warm comfort food that reminded her of snuggling next to a warm fireplace during a snowy evening. Pure perfection.
Rowan had chosen a slightly different option. “There’s the bread.” He pointed at something bread-like peeking out under the copious amounts of romaine, spinach and kale. “You can see it just fine.”
“That isn’t even actual bread. It’s made of cauliflower. It doesn’t count.”
“It has butter.”
“Extra, extra, extra light butter,” she quoted his order. “You insulted butter everywhere.”
“Surely I said extra only once.”
“Nope, it was three times. I counted,” Quinn corroborated as he prepared to eat a double stacked bread bowl piled high with fried onion rings and cheese-flavored Tayto crisps. Next to him, Davey had already dug into his tortilla, jelly and French fry-covered bread bowl, a homage to her childhood favorite.
Rowan lifted an eyebrow at the unhealthy yet delicious options. He held up his fork. “I eat healthy to stay in shape.”
“It’s working,” Ciara replied automatically. She closed her eyes, opened them to three bemused grins. “I mean it’s important to eat healthy. For your… um… health.”
Well, that was smooth.
“Of course,” Rowan replied suavely, and Ciara heated even more. No doubt she resembled the heart-shaped beets topping Rowan’s bread… er… cauliflower bowl.
Laughter broke out at a table across the room, drawing Ciara’s attention. At first, she smiled at the young adults who were giggling and having a good time, until she saw one point at her table. No, not at her table.
At Davey.
Davey took a big bite of the crusty bowl. The group mimicked him, making exaggerated gestures, while the others laughed. Rowan narrowed his eyes, while Quinn and Spencer frowned severely. Then Davey looked up. At first, he had the big grin she recognized as his trademark expression.
Then his expressionshattered.
She’d never seen the gentle soul so sad. As his eyes sheened in the amber light, she rose, and without conscious thought, strode to the table of revelers. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she demanded.
Four people stared at her in shock. The gawky, thin man who’d mocked Davey opened and closed his mouth like a floundering fish, while the others looked on in guilt. For how loud they were earlier, no one uttered a word now.
“Do any of you–” Ciara allowed her gaze to rest on each one, as they flushed bright red. “Understand the consequences of your actions? Why would you hurt someone you don’t even know?”
For a moment, they stayed silent, eyes widened, mouths opened. Then a young woman with blond ringlets stammered, “We were just playing around. We didn’t think anyone noticed.”
“I noticed,” Ciara snapped. “His brothers noticed. But worst of all, he noticed. When Davey came in, he was ecstatic. Now he’s horrified.”
“He understood?” She looked stricken.
“Of course, he understood,” Ciara retorted. “Just because he’s different doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings. You hurt his.A lot.Think about how you would feel if a group of strangers mocked you.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said quietly. “We didn’t realize.” The others mumbled apologies, turning away to study their food, the floor and everything but Davey.
Ciara sighed, as the anger drained away, leaving sorrow and the determination to change things. “Just think about it,” she said earnestly. “And next time, consider how your actions affect others.” They nodded, and she pivoted, slowing her steps as she returned to the table. She took a deep breath, fighting through the turmoil. She hated confrontations, but she couldn’t let them hurt Davey.
The brothers were locked in quiet conversation, Rowan and Spencer each with a hand on Davey’s back. They stopped talking when she arrived, their expressions intense in their own way. Quinn and Spencer’s were clouded in anger, but Rowan just stared at her, his emotions ever-hidden. Even the usually affable Davey sat in uncharacteristic somberness.
