“Oh, I’m waiting on that information too, love,” he said, casting his glance up at me. “Connor was just about to get on with it, actually.”
Unable to keep the disgust off my face, I casted my eyes away from him saying, “I can’t even look at you right now.”
Malcolm cackled, and taking a hint, sauntered away. He knew it was all just an excuse to get him away from her. And judging by his reaction, he knew what he’d been doing too. But had Ceci? Or was she actually…interested?
Shaking my head, I matched my pace to Ria’s as we started our walk back out together. Turning her face up to me, she nodded her head in the direction of the table and asked, “How are things in Paradise?”
Following her line of sight straight to the outdoor dining table I noticed my mother taking a seat in the space right across the table from Ceci. The other thing I noticed were eyes. Burning, laser sharp eyes as Ceci watched Ria and I enter the dinner area. When she noticed me looking too, she raised the glowing orbs to my face and gave me the weirdest look. A small frown marring her face, cheeks redder than normal, eyebrows pinched together like she was thinking of something particularly confusing.
Why the hell was I getting that look while Malcolm got nothing but smiles?
I wasn’t exaggerating when I say, I sat down at the dinner table in a grumble. It took all of me not to turn to Ceci completely, but instead I leaned in slightly and said in hushed tones, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
She looked up, looked past me to my other side and then scowled at me. “Whatever do you mean, Connor?”
Oh, the fucking brat.
With a groan, I sat back in my chair and participated as plates, napkins and knives were handed around. Everyone had their glasses and base plates laid out for them already. But when it came around to secondary plates, one came offered to me from both sides.
To my right, Ceci was offering me a plate and to my left Ria. Unconsciously, I took the one on my left as I watched Ceci in hopes of catching her expression. Did her offering me a plate mean that she was done being…whateverthis wasat me?
No. No it did not.
I know this because being able to look at her meant being able to watch firsthand how a flush of rushing anger flooded her face. Eyes lighting on my movements.
She didn’t comment. Didn’t fucking tell me what was going on in her head. She just turned away, all but slamming the plate down on her own place and kept the line going.
I’m sorry, did I say I was dealing with a brat? I meant an actual temper tantrum.
Sighing, I just turned to Ri to thank her and continued with distributing dinner.
On the menu there was blackened chicken, ceviche, roasted corn husks, fish, peppered cucumbers, and tons more. Mom never cooked unless it was with our grandma on the holidays, but whenever those days rolled around is when we got the really good food. For now though, we were used to having things catered from the best chefs in Seaside.
I think my plate was full to the brim when the last two dishes came around. One was sort of a cucumber salad that looked like something my dad would like, but the coloring was too red, like there was too much pepper added. The other was a pasta salad I was familiar with.
Leaning over to my friend I said, “You made it again this year. Thank you.”
Ria smiled up at me although her eyes went wary as they trailed over my shoulder, “I know you like it and I only see you once a year now so.”
Reaching over I squeezed her shoulder before spooning a helping of the pasta salad onto the side of my plate. The other thing I passed over to Ceci. She liked spicy, I’m sure she would like the red looking dish.
Taking the offered dish in her hands she looked at it for a couple of extra seconds, her shoulders seeming to bow in dejection. An expression that was very unlike her. I wanted to reach out and say something but didn’t know how without making it weird.
It was my little sister who cracked the silence. “Why don’t you try some of Ceci’s dish too, Connor? She and I used Alta’s recipe to make it.”
Ceci’s dish?
I felt a swirl of unease coat my stomach as I looked down my shoulder at her. She was already looking up at me with a frown on her face.Fuck.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize,” I said, reaching for the dish.
Before I could grab hold of it, Ceci snatched the bowl to the side and passed it along to her right. “That’s okay, Ferg. Seems like he likes pasta salad way more anyway.”
Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.
Across the table Malcolm laughed and I wanted nothing more than to pummel the asshole. But I was too focused on backpedaling. Reaching out, I motioned for the bowl saying, “No, no, no. Give me that.”
“If you don’t get your arm from in front of my face, Ferguson. I’m going to bite it,” Ceci said in a voice she wasn’t even trying to pass as nice. And knowing enough toneverthink Ceci was bluffing, I slowly retracted my arm, leaving her to raise the bowl up with a sugar sweet smile to the man across from her. “Malcolm? Want to try?”
