Page 110 of Finding Denver
“I never said you didn’t,” I whisper in her ear, and she flushes.
Ronan appears from the kitchen, his eyes wide. “Don’t go in there.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Finn burned the bread.”
Denver and I wince and dip into the living room where Ronan, Taf and Alistair are watching TV. Helena’s shouts fill the house, followed by Finn’s panicked explanations.
“So, what do I need to know for tonight?” Denver asks.
“No work discussion at the table. Helena will yell at you, but with love,” I say. “And when Danielle and Alison get here, don’t mention security.”
Ronan glares at me. “Shut up, Colt.”
Denver looks between us. “What?”
“Alison is banging her bodyguard,” Taf pipes up from the couch. Ronan picks up a cushion and launches it at him. “Ow, what the fuck? Am I wrong?”
“My sister’s name and that word do not belong in the same sentence,” Ronan snaps.
Taf looks at me. “Banging?”
The front door opens, and a burst of cold air sweeps down the hall.
“We’ve arrived!” Alison sings as she rushes by the door in a flash of dark hair and a Harvard sweatshirt—something she’s likely wearing to distract her aunt and uncle from her current love life drama. “Give me food!”
Danielle pauses at the doorway, a box in hand. Her black hair is pulled back into a ponytail, dark eyes alight with excitement. “I have brownies.” Her gaze lands on Denver. “It’s the runaway. Hey, Deluxe.”
“Hi.” Denver gives Ronan’s sister an awkward wave.
“Hungry?” Danielle asks.
Denver nods. “Yep.”
“Terrified?”
“Yep.”
Danielle grins. “Then you’ll fit right in.” Her smile disappears. “Why do I smell burning bread?”
As we all somehow navigate dishes from the kitchen to the dining room with minimal yelling from Helena, Denver mingles with Alison and Danielle, and I keep a close eye on her. She’s laughing a little louder than usual, and she keeps tucking her hair behind her ear, even when it’s already secured.
She’s never mentioned friends to me. She has Lewis, and she had Harley, but no other names seem to crop up. Danielle and Alison will make her feel welcome, though.
Ronan catches my arm before I take my seat and pulls me back from the commotion. “Finn told me you snuck out of Denver’s room this morning.”
Shit. I thought I’d been covert. Apparently not.
I grimace. “Why would he tell you?”
“Why do you think? He’s readying for Ranger to stroll through the door and put a bullet between your eyes,” Ronan says, but he grins. “How did it go? It’s been a long time. How quickly did you?—”
I punch him in the gut, and he wheezes. “One more word and you die, McEwan.”
“I hate you,” he whispers.
I take my seat. Finn is at the head of the table, and Denver is to his right, Helena to his left. Ronan slumps into the chair at the other end, his sisters either side of him. Lewis, Alistair, Taf and I are in the center seats, and I’m next to Denver. The seat beside me is empty.
