Laughter erupts from my chest, and I can’t do anything to stop it. Michael got attacked three times tonight, and once by a little piglet named Kabobs.
Mark looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Yes, we’ve been acquainted with…Kabobs,” Michael says.
I snort. Then quickly cover my mouth, but it’s just too much.
“Well, be nice to him. The poor thing has some brain damage. That’s why my buddy Jeff let me borrow him,” Mark says, then walks away.
That explainsa lot.
Once Mark is gone, Michael turns on me. “For the record, I don’t appreciate being mocked,” he says sternly, but his frown is barely that.
“I’m so sorry.” I wipe at the tears running downmy cheeks. “But on our first date, you were attacked by a nonexistent cat and now a tiny pig.”
“Hey. It might have been tiny, but that thing did some damage.”
“So did the invisible cat.” I wheeze.
He folds his arms and plants his legs wide. “I don’t know why I expected sympathy from you.”
“I’m not sure either.” I giggle, and even though he doesn’t “appreciate” my humor, he doesn’t seem to have an issue with me. He hooks a thumb through my belt loop and pulls me closer. The smart part of my brain is telling me to pullback while I still can, but I don’t care what it has to say right now. If love isn’t real, how come my heart race every time he holds me close?
I place a hand on his chest, pinching the fabric of his shirt between my fingers.
There’s a fire in his eyes, burning hotter than the one in the backyard.
“I think tonight’s trainwreck has earned me more dates to learn more about you.” His voice is low and dangerously sexy, and my heart reacts by jumping off a cliff. It’s soaring, free-falling into the rocky bottom without an ounce of concern.
“If you haven’t figured out how we know each other by now, I’m not sure more dates are going to help.” I smirk and lift a brow. “Unless itwasa line?” If it was, it was extremely effective.
His fingers skim up my arm, thendown. “I’d never use a li—”
“Was I seeing things, or did you guys get escorted here by the police?”
I jump from Michael and ram my elbow into the corner of the wall. What’s with the Bentleys and sneaking up on people?
Michael reaches for my hand, and I let him take it, intertwining my fingers with his. “Only the best for my girl,” he says sarcastically as he rubs slow circles on the backof my hand.
Sean’s eyes glint, and he folds his arms across his bare torso. “And to think, I only brought my date flowers.”
“Where is your date?” I ask, suddenly curious to see the kind of girl Sean prefers. My guess is beautiful, blonde, perky, and obnoxious.
“Over there.” He points to the center of the room where, indeed, a beautiful blonde in a hula skirt and cute Hawaiian shirt is talking with another woman. And is she moving her hips?
She’s like one of those moms who forget they aren’t holding a baby and naturally sways. But her sway looks more like dancing than lulling a baby to sleep.
“She seems typica—I mean nice,” I say, but Sean 's eyebrows shoot up. He didn’t miss my little slip.
Mark announces dinner is ready, and we follow the crowd onto the back patio to dish up, then find a place at the long banquet table set up from the dining room to the sitting room.
The food is incredible. Kalua pork, sticky rice, and pineapple. Even the kabobs are heavenly. Maybe I’m supposed to be an island girl.
After everyone has settled down with food, Mark speaks from the head of the table. But I can barely hear him over Sean’s date, whose name is Chanel, imagine that? We made the horrible mistake of sitting by them, and there hasn’t been a moment of silence since.
“And that’s when I knew I was a psychic,” Chanel says and grabs my arm across the table.
I blink. Was she talking to me?
