Page 28 of A Toast for Laurent

A burger, fries, and a glass of merlot were the next best thing to Phoebe’s sweetness. Make that several glasses. Hell, I might even go for something stronger. A snifter of whiskey was becoming more appealing by the second. “That works.”

“Good.”She hurried out the door, and I followed like a good dog. Even though the fact I stared at her ass the entire time proved I was more dog than good.

It was a short walk, and by the time we got there, I was starving. The granola bar I snacked on in the car could only do so much. Once again, I grabbed the door and let Phoebe in first. She offered a smile, but it was forced. I had no idea if it was the fact that we had to share a room, or that she’d have to see her dreaded stepmother in less than twenty-four hours. Probably a little of both.

The hostess told us to sit wherever we liked, and Phoebe chose a booth in the corner away from the door and a crowd of what looked like college students.

Phoebe sat with her hands folded on the table, and I had enough of the uncomfortable tension.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Fine.”

“Then why are you being short and sitting there like you have a rod shoved up your ass?”

Her eyes widened, and her shoulders instantly relaxed at my words. “I am not.”

“You want to talk about it?” I asked, knowing damn well until she got it out, her mind would be going a mile a minute.

“No.”

“Too bad. We’re talking about it.”

“That’s not how that works.”

“I sat in a car with you for five hours to drive you to an engagement party for your sister.”

“Half-sister.”

“Whatever, and I’m pretending to be your loving and doting boyfriend, so if I say we’re talking about it, then you better damn well talk about it.”

“Shh, keep your voice down,” she said in a mix between a whisper and a growl. “You have no idea who is here who will be at the party tomorrow.”

“Well, in that case, you better start acting like you love me.” I flashed her a smile I knew made her crazy and settled back as the waitress approached.

“I’ll have a glass of Sauvignon Blanc,” Phoebe said before the waitress could introduce herself.

“I thought you didn’t drink much.”

“I don’t, but my nerves are coming out of my ears.”

I turned my attention to the waitress. “Sorry, we’re in town for a party with a whole ton of family.”

“Say no more,” the waitress said. “My dad is one of eight.”

“I’m one of seven.”

“Family, you got to love them, but man, they drive you insane.”

“Exactly, so can we get a bottle and two glasses? I’ll also take a snifter of your Three-Barrel Whiskey.” Even if I didn’t want whiskey tonight, seeing Brady’s whiskey on the menu, I had no choice. Any way I could support him, I would.

“You got it. Do you want to put in a food order?”

“Are you ready?” I asked Phoebe.

“Your strawberry and goat cheese salad, please. Dressing on the side.”

“Sure thing, and you, sir?”

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