Sweet Heart (The Hearts of Sawyers Bend #2) - Ivy Layne Page 0,57

the dinner might have gone differently if the chef hadn't chosen that night to serve peas. I never would have believed it, sitting in that elegant dining room with so many well-dressed people, but everything spiraled out of control in the blink of an eye.

At his mother's encouragement, Bryce was droning on about winning some tennis tournament at a club they belonged to. Sterling, sitting opposite him, took another long sip of wine before she slumped back in her chair, her eyes glued to the ceiling as if praying for patience. She wasn't the only one.

Before anyone realized what she was up to, Sterling placed one round, green pea directly in the center of her silver spoon and catapulted it across the table, directly at her cousin Bryce.

I slammed my hand over my mouth before the laugh could escape as Bryce lifted his fingers to brush at his hair, too caught up in his own story to realize he'd been struck by one of Sterling's peas. Undaunted, she shot again. This time she caught him straight between the eyes.

Griffen leaned past Hope—I'm assuming to tell Sterling to knock it off. He was too late. Bryce flung his own peas back across the table, missing Sterling and smacking Tyler in the face. After the way those two had bored us all to death through dinner, I had to resist the urge to clap.

Beside me, Royal was shaking with suppressed laughter. Someone at the other end of the table, maybe Avery or Quinn, pitched a dinner roll at our end. I don't even think they were aiming at someone specific. I think whoever threw it just wanted to throw something. From there, the battle was on.

Projectiles burst from every direction—dinner rolls, bits of mushroom—I'm pretty sure I even spotted a shrimp flying through the air. Torn between amusement and wanting to protect my new dress, I opted to stay out of the fight. Royal mostly did, though he couldn't resist flicking peas at Bryce and Ophelia when they were looking the other way.

Royal caught Griffen's eye. “Aren't you going to put a stop to this?”

Griffen shrugged, a smile teasing his mouth. “Eventually. If I have to. Everyone's having so much fun, I don't have the heart to stop them now.”

Griffen didn't want to stop them, but the second I saw Savannah's face, I thought it might have been better if he had. Heartstone Manor's efficient, friendly housekeeper looked like her head was going to explode. Her face flushed a deep pink, she opened her mouth—I thought to yell—then snapped it shut as if she'd thought better of what she wanted to say. I imagined I could hear her teeth grinding from across the room.

Slowly, everyone ceased fire, the heat of battle chilled by the ice in Savannah's eyes.

“I am not cleaning this up. If you all plan to act like children you can clean up your messes. Let me know when you're done, and we'll consider clearing the dinner dishes and serving you chocolate cake, but if there’s a single pea on this carpet, you get nothing. Understood?”

The table echoed with a mumbled round of, “Understood.” That might have been it, but Finn dared to add, “I wouldn't have thrown the peas if they hadn't been overcooked.”

Savannah's face contorted as she let out a sound somewhere between a roar and a growl. She stormed across the space separating them, snatched up Finn's half-full plate, and slammed it down over his head. Rich cream sauce dripped from his dark hair, staining his shirt, peas and mushrooms catching in the dark strands before tumbling to his lap.

Savannah turned on her heel and strode from the dining room, the door swinging shut behind her.

“Someday,” Royal said to his younger brother, “you're going to learn when to keep your mouth shut.”

“Not likely,” Finn said, shaking his head. “If the rest of you don't mind, I'm going to go change clothes and wash this bland sauce out of my hair.”

“You're supposed to help us clean up!” Sterling called after him. Finn raised a hand in acknowledgment but didn't stop.

“You started it, you should have to clean it all up,” Bryce said, pointing his finger at Sterling.

“Good luck with that,” Sterling shouted back, lurching to her feet. She grabbed for her half-full glass of wine. I don't know if she'd been drinking more than we saw or if she just caught the edge of her heel, but she tipped to the side, upending the glass of red wine