SIXTEEN

Olivia looked around and tried to pinpoint when the cocktail hour had gone off the rails. She lifted her wine glass and drained it, deciding the wine had nothing to do with it. Nor did the pimiento cheese and crackers since they were delicious as always.

And what, for the love of God, was happening between her sister and Zane's cousin? The tension that ignited the moment they'd been introduced was making her light-headed.

Was unwanted lust responsible? It seemed possible since her sister was almost immediately out of sorts—a rare occurrence in a man's company or anyone's for that matter. Lucy could easily carry on civil discourse with even the most objectional human. And Linc certainly wasn't that since he was handsome as sin with a delightful rakish wit.

The two were currently nose-to-nose and speaking in heated whispers.

Then there were Bea and Asher pretending like the other didn't exist. They were both studying the walls with a lot more interest than the art deserved and refilling their wine glasses at an alarming rate. She'd tried every conversational trick she could think of, but none worked.

When they showed up together, unannounced unexpectedly, she knew something had gone down. Asher's sudden appearance in town had flummoxed her best friend, and whatever happened before they arrived was clearly of consequence. And she'd bet good money it was some kind of lip-lock that had them acting like they'd prefer to be in a Russian gulag instead of her lovely dinner party.

And then there was her Zane; he, too, looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. The sound of Linc's and Lucy's heated whispers increased, and she sighed. "What do you suppose is going on? I can't tell if they"re flirting or fussing."

Zane thrummed his fingers restlessly on his knee. "No idea, Liv. Maybe we should just call it and forget dinner."

She tamped down her frustration. He'd been strung tight since he arrived, and she didn't know if the domesticity of the evening had him on edge or something else entirely. Did he think having dinner en famille meant she was interested in a formal arrangement? Because she most certainly wasn't.

Her life was full, with nary a free moment for a consuming relationship. Naughty shenanigans, yes. Formal relationship, probably not. Her matrimonial death glare was packed safely away, and she had no plans to dig it out any time soon.

Tired of her mental machinations, she pushed herself to her feet. "I'm going to check on supper."

"I'll help," Zane added loudly.

Nothing. There was no reaction from Linc and Lucy or Asher and Bea. All four were engaged in some weird, quiet exchange of silent, stinging looks. Sighing, she tromped into the kitchen and opened the oven door, checking on the roasted chicken she planned to serve. That was if anyone decided to hang around for dinner.

"My dinner parties don't usually start so badly."

Zane refilled her wine glass and then pulled out another beer. "This is why entertaining is a bad idea."

She turned a burner on and slid over a pot filled with potatoes. "Having people over is not ill-advised. Clearly, there's some kind of boy-girl drama happening, and I bet by the time we sit down to this delicious meal, detente will have been achieved."

Zane snorted. "Not likely."

Narrowing her eyes, she shook some salt into the pan. "Feel like sharing what's got you wound tighter than a clock?" She waved a wooden spoon in the direction of the porch. "It can't be the company since two belong to your family."

"They're your guests, Liv. Not ours."

"Ooohhhh," she said quietly. "I get it."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Here we go, she thought as she lifted her wine glass. "Nothing, Zane."

"The condescension in the comment tells me it's goddamn something."

Frustrated beyond measure, she set her glass down and spun around. "You want to fight with someone? Go to the other room and choose one of your relatives." She picked up the spoon. "All I did was invite you and your cousin over for dinner. It's not a sign that I'm interested in some sort of domesticity together." Slapping the spoon down on the counter, she let out a groan. "As surprising as it might be, your ever-present cloud of doom and gloom isn't all that attractive." She waved her hands. "I don't have you handcuffed to my side, so go home and glower at your dead relatives."

"Jeez, I'm sorry." Zane kicked the ground. "It's just…"

"That you saw a glimpse of what we could be and freaked out. Did pissing me off seem easier than just admitting you're not ready for anything serious?" She resisted his hand tugging hers for a few seconds and then gave in. He pulled her into his chest, and she wished it didn't feel so damn much like home.

"I've been fighting an anxiety attack since I got here, and…"

"It's not going well," she whispered.

"Nope."

"And starting a fight seemed like a good answer?"

"Believe it or not, that wasn't what I was trying to do." He skated his hand along her back. "I have no idea how to deal with this crap. I'm accustomed to dominating every space I enter."

"You may need some new ammo for your current enemy because your emotions don't likely have a whole lot of respect for bullets or bombs."

"Yeah, I know."

"Feel like doing anything about developing new skills so the dragons circling your castle begin to respect your majesty?"

"Believe it or not, I do."

She pushed at his chest and stepped back. "I'm not asking for me; it's for you, Zane." She lifted her hand and ran it over his grim smile. "You are a good person and have more than paid the price for whatever you think you did or didn't do."

He let out a resigned grunt. "Does that mean we can stay in the kitchen and eat supper in peace?"

"And miss the show our friends and family are putting on? No way!"

"It's so damn uncomfortable, though."

She patted his chest. "If I may be so bold, I'd like to offer another perspective."

Zane rolled his hand. "Go ahead, babe, because we both know I'm powerless to refuse you."

Pursing her lips, she smoothed out his shirt. "As it should be." She saw her sister in the doorway. "More drinks?"

"I'm going home. Headache."

"Okay," before she could say more, Lucy disappeared through the door. "My goodness, that's unusual."

Linc appeared a moment later. "I'm gonna head out and see if I can catch Lucy."

"What the hell, man?" Zane said with exasperation.

Linc gave them both a shrug and then strode through the door. "Well, that's unfortunate." She walked out to the porch and found it empty. "We've been abandoned, Zane."

"What the hell?" he asked as he joined her. "Where did Asher and Bea go?"

"Do they have something against roast chicken and mashed potatoes?"

Zane slung his arm over Olivia's shoulder. "What were you saying about another perspective?"

"Never mind," she huffed. "If they want to deny us a front-row seat to the opening scene of an excellent show, then so be it."

"Does this mean we can eat in the kitchen and feel each other up?"

She let her shoulders drop. "Might as well since my dinner party is a disaster." Lifting her gaze, she exhaled. "Why are you enjoying this?"

He put up his hands. "I'm not. But damn if I'm not going to revel in the fact that my behavior wasn't the worst of the evening." Taking her hand, he lifted it to his mouth and kissed her fingers. "I thought my anxiety was going be center stage, but instead, it's my family's bad manners."

"And mine." She headed back into the kitchen and hoped that Zane would eventually put some time and effort into his mental health. And not just because she wanted him ultimately to enjoy her social efforts. But because he was too good a man not to appreciate the beautiful moments when they came along.