Chapter 115
Chapter 115:
She reached out and brushed the crumbs from Hilliard’s shoe. As she did, the back of her hand grazed his ankle. The contact was electric — a startling jolt of warmth through the thin fabric of his dress sock.
Above her, Hilliard stiffened. He felt her hand on his ankle, the touch unexpected and strangely intimate. It sent a low hum of electricity straight up his spine. His mind, which had been methodically piecing together a puzzle, was suddenly and completely derailed by a surge of raw, long-forgotten desire.
Cailin emerged from beneath the table, her face flushed, holding nothing. “Found it,” she lied, bringing her fingers to her eye in a convincing pantomime.
Hilliard watched her. His pupils were dark and wide. The suspicion that had sharpened his gaze only moments ago had been replaced by something else entirely — something darker, and far hungrier.
“You are clumsy tonight, Cailin,” he murmured.
“You distract me,” she said, smoothing her hair.
It was the only true thing she had said all evening.
Under the table, Aron leaned toward his brother.
“He likes her,” Aron whispered.
Davy whispered back, “He’s still a jerk p>
The meal was an eternity of small talk and near-disasters. By the time the plates were cleared, Cailin was exhausted, her adrenaline crashing in slow, punishing waves.
𝗔𝘥𝘥ic𝘁𝘪𝘃𝘦 𝗇o𝘃𝘦𝗅s 𝗈𝘯
Hilliard signaled for the check.
“I’ll get it,” Ashely insisted, reaching for her purse.
Hilliard smirked. “My treat. As agreed p>
He reached back for his wallet. As he did, he leaned back slightly, stretching his legs beneath the table — and his foot came down squarely on Davy’s hand, pinning it against the base.
Davy suppressed a yelp. Instead of crying out, instinct took over. He bit down hard on whatever was trapping him.
Hilliard yanked his leg back as if he had been electrocuted. “What the hell p>
“What?” Cailin jumped, her heart lurching into her throat.
“Something bit me,” Hilliard growled, his face a mask of disbelief. “A rat? In this place?” He grabbed the edge of the tablecloth, ready to rip it aside and expose whatever was underneath.
“Spilled wine!” Ashely shrieked, and in the same breath she knocked her full glass of red wine directly into Hilliard’s lap.
The dark liquid soaked through the front of his expensive charcoal suit.
Hilliard shot to his feet, cursing. “Damn it p>
“Oh my God, I am so clumsy!” Ashely cried, snatching a fistful of napkins and rushing to his side, effectively planting herself between him and any view of the floor as she dabbed uselessly at the stain.
Under the cover of the chaos, Cailin nudged both boys sharply with her foot. Move to the back. Now.
They scrambled like mice into the shadowy depths of the U-shaped booth.
Hilliard was too consumed with the damage to his suit to notice. “I need the restroom,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice tight with barely contained fury. He turned and marched away without another word.
The second he was out of sight, Cailin seized Ashely’s arm.
“Go. Now,” she hissed.