The Billionaire's Christmas Bride (Big Bad Billionaires #3) - L. Steele Page 0,94
Apology my foot. He may have sounded earnest, but that condescending look on his face? Jesus, he is one tough customer.
Rosie turns to Weston, who draws in a breath. He walks over to her, kisses her cheek, "We’re good, Mother."
"Good." She pats his cheek. "Let’s eat." She walks toward the dining room.
OMG, now that’s power, huh? She’s got these alphas to heel, and that’s a talent she’d have learned early. And how, I mean, seriously, how does she do it? She’s the true leader here.
Hunter, Kirsten and Patrick follow. Phe skips forward, with Skye trailing behind.
Weston turns on me and the scowl on his face deepens. He bends his knees, thrusts his face into mine, "I’ve called the car service. They’ll be here after dinner for you. Don’t find an excuse to stay back this time, you get me?"
38
Weston
Why the hell is she sitting next to him? I frown across the table as Hunter leans over to say something to Amelie. She giggles, her cheeks rosy. From his company? From the wine? From the warmth in the fireplace, maybe?
I stab my fork into the chestnut and bring it to my mouth. "Why is she talking to him?" I grumble under my breath.
"Because unlike you, she has manners and knows when to be polite, especially at family dinners." Kirsten nudges me with her elbow, "Can’t take your eyes off her, huh?"
"Of course, not." I glance down at my plate, "This food is fucking bland."
"Lost your appetite, huh?" She snickers.
I glower, "Don’t try to get a rise out of me."
"I thought I was the only one who could," she replies, "until—"
"Until?"
"Her, of course," she chuckles.
I don’t need to look up to know she’s glanced across at the pesky, curvy woman who I’d invited into my life. Holy fuck, what the hell had I been thinking? "Why is she still here?" I roll my shoulders.
"I can’t believe you asked her to leave, and so close to Christmas."
"It’s two days to Christmas," I grumble. "Enough time for her to join her family, if she chooses."
"You’re a class-A douche," she hisses at me. "Is it because you’re in love with her that you’re being so terrible to her? Is that why you’re going out of your way to insult her, to ensure she’ll never look at you again?"
"No, to the first, and as to the second... Well, that’s my nature."
"Ha," she snorts. "You can’t pull off your mean-ass persona with me, dear brother. You and I are too close for that."
And isn’t that the truth. Kirsten is two years younger than me, close enough for us to hang out together. Growing up, I was her protector and she was my shadow, who tagged along with me on all my boyhood adventures. Unlike Liam, who at eight years older than me, was someone I hadn’t gotten to know as well. There’d always been a chasm between us, which had only increased after our father had passed on.
I blow out a breath. "I’m not in love with her," I insist again.
"Keep telling yourself lies; that’s a specialty of yours, huh?"
"Don’t push me on this one," I say through clenched teeth.
Amelie’s giggle reaches me. I glance up to find her leaning into Hunter. I clench my hand around my fork, which slips from my fingers and smashes into the plate. The clash rings out and everyone at the table turns to glance at me.
"Sorry, still getting used to using my non-dominant hand for every day stuff," I scowl.
Amelie straightens, glances at me and away. Good. At least, she’s heeding the warning.
"Your finger troubling you, much?" my mother asks.
I glance down at my right hand. "The cast comes off next week, then a few more weeks of therapy and I should be back at work by mid-January, at the latest," I reply.
"How did the accident take place?" Liam asks from his position at the foot of the table.
After father passed, Mother assumed the responsibility of running the business, until Liam took over. She still holds veto power on the board and is the head of the family.
"I was forced off the road," I reply.
"Forced off?" Liam frowns.
"No need to concern yourself. I am looking into it, with the Seven."
"The Seven." His lips twitch, "You place too much importance on their friendship."
"At least I have friends, unlike you," I shoot back, then wince. Shit, a few minutes in the company of my family, and hell, if the old insecurities don’t come tumbling back.