“You feeling okay? Need some water?” he asks.
Stefano’s already backing toward the butler door between the dining room and the kitchen as I nod.
The plan is working.
Almost.
We need the room to ourselves for a couple minutes to set the stage.
She looks Dante dead in the eyes, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs before she lets out two grossly fake coughs.
I’ve got to bite my tongue to stifle my laugh.
“I guess I’ll just go grab you some water, too.”
Morgan smiles not-so-innocently.
The second they’re gone, she tugs me down onto the couch, positioning me just so.
“Okay, you sit here on the end,” she whispers.
At this point, I’m taking my orders from her.
Grabbing the wine bag, she sets the Cabernet on the table, and fishes out the small daisy plush toy. Gently, she slips it under the throw pillow beside me, careful not to press its button. Then, she breaks out into a silent happy dance.
In the kitchen, the guys’ whispers grow loud and intense.
She’s mid-bounce when the guys burst through the swinging door, glasses in hand, so she’s forced to mask her smile with another uninspired cough.
“Here, drink this.” Dante holds the water to her mouth, waiting as she tries to take a small sip.
Except, her lips are twitching from suppressing her laugh, so water sputters everywhere.
“Oh, babe…” Dante dutifully scans the couch for something to mop her spill, nearly grabbing “the” pillow.
“Whoa, there.” Stefano comes in clutching the napkin he’d wrapped around my glass, saving the day. He hands me the water. “Both of you all coughing. Could be something going around.”
Morgan starts cough-laughing again, her frantic gaze flickering not so subtly to Dante.
It’s a surefireshit or get off the potif ever I’ve seen one.
I blink twice.
We’re barely holding it together, so when Stefano squeezes in next to me on the couch, sliding his hand into mine, it feels like my next cue.
My heart is beating a mile a minute.
“Stefano?”
With his thumb, he rubs circles in my palm, and suddenly, I can’t tell whether he’s the one who’s nervous or me.
“I was hoping—” I start to say but he interrupts me.
“Please let me go first.” Stefano fixes me with an intense stare.
It’s the desperation in his tone that reaches into my chest and squeezes my heart, though. Whatever he’s got to say, I can tell it’s got a hold on him.
“Okay.”
