even dampened another napkin and actually helped me wipe the last little bit of barbecue off my cheek, though I thought the napkin might have caught fire with how hot my whole face felt. Henry smiled and squeezed my knee. “You look really cute when you get flustered, Ophelia.”
“That only seems to be a problem when I’m around you,” I said under my breath. I concentrated on dabbing my hands dry and scrubbing at my nails, swearing I’d never eat ribs without a fork again.
“I’m honored.” He started to go on, no doubt to tease me or maybe kiss me again, but his phone buzzed and he frowned down at it for a long moment.
Desperate for his attention to be on something that wasn’t me, I cleared my throat and pretended to peer at the screen. “Trouble?”
“Sort of. Evershaw asked where we’re at and how the meeting went. He’ll want an update.” Henry sighed and the flirtation fell away until he was the serious leader once more. “He’ll definitely want to hear about your stare down with Aria.”
“Stare down? It wasn’t that dramatic.”
He waved for the bill and paid before I had the chance to even reach for my bag, leaving a generous tip on the counter and shouting his thanks to the cooks and waitress. Then Henry held my hand as he weaved through the crowd and found the door. “It was a little dramatic. If I had a clue what you two were talking about, I might have been really afraid.”
I laughed and leaned against his side when we hit the sidewalk and there was finally enough room to walk next to him. “Just because we had to…set expectations doesn’t mean it was dramatic. We just needed to make sure there was appropriate mutual respect so no one did anything crazy.”
His arm looped around my waist and his hand settled comfortably on my hip, and I breathed easier. With as tall and broad and capable as Henry was—and as confident—I felt safe and sheltered. Protected. Like nothing bad could happen so long as he was next to me. My heart thumped in my chest and the magic flared up in anticipation. What if Nola convinced him to return to Montana, though? And what if all the affection and attention was just a consequence of him pretending I was his mate? I tried not to get my hopes up that Henry meant what he said, or that he felt the same spark of attraction I did, although his fascination with my mouth and the soft spot behind my ear seemed to hint that he definitely felt something.
My cheeks burned the entire drive home, and not just because Henry touched my knee. I’d meant it when I said I didn’t mind pretending to be his mate, but I started to wonder how far we would take the ruse just to show Nola that he wouldn’t go back. How far did I want to take the ruse? I hadn’t felt that kind of physical snap-crackle-pop in ages. Why couldn’t I take advantage of it? Why couldn’t I indulge? If Henry was willing—and it certainly seemed like he was—then what was the harm in some snuggling? Some making out? Maybe even... more?
I pressed my lips together and hoped no one in the house could read minds. It might end up being a long damn afternoon if I had to wait until dinner to decide if I wanted to open the door to a little more with Henry.
Chapter 22
Henry
He almost lost control in the restaurant when Ophelia teased him with barbecue sauce all over her face. It had been a brilliant idea to take her to the dive restaurant where she could relax and get messy, and it gave him a chance to actually talk to her. Not that he wanted to waste time discussing the pack in Montana and Nola’s absurd demands.
Although he suspected Ophelia had a point about figuring out why Nola was so desperate for him to return home.
Henry had a hell of a time explaining what happened at the bank to Evershaw and Todd and Deirdre, and had to drag Ophelia into the office in the house to explain her view of what happened. Evershaw wasn’t pleased at the idea of a fae—some kind of cousin to the mysterious Smith—having a hand in their bank and their finances. Only Deirdre’s calming influence kept the alpha from storming off to confront Aria, Smith, and anyone else he didn’t like or