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I look at Sasha. “We’re getting married.”

CHAPTER14

Sasha

I’ve got the syrup open over my waffles, and for a moment, I don’t move. I just hold it there, syrup pouring like a waterfall, before the server gasps and gently tips it back up. “Honey, I think that’s sweet enough,” she whispers.

I set the bottle down. Though the restaurant around us is alight with conversation, silence fills the bubble around our table. No, the bubble includes the tables around us where several people are staring, clearly having heard what Griffin just said.

The joke he just made. It was a joke. It had to be. I laugh, nervously. It comes out in a weird shrill giggle. “That’s funny, Griffin.” It’s not, really. But maybe he’s trying.

“My brother doesn’t really joke,” Jude says.

“Sounds like you folks are doing, uh, I’m just going to come back in a bit,” Amanda says, moving to the next table. She keeps her eyes on us, though.

Griffin shakes his head. “It wasn’t a joke.”

I press my hands to the table, confusion whirling. Then I lean over and whisper, “Are you on drugs?”

Cap gasps. “Oh no.” He puts on a serious face. “Uncle Griff, we watched a movie about that at school. Did someone peer pressure you?”

Griffin curses under his breath. “I’m not on drugs.” He stands up and gets out of the booth. “Can I talk to you? Maybe in private?”

“Why would you want to do that when you just proposed oh so romantically?” Heat’s rushing through me now that I know he’s serious.

“Please, Sasha.”

I look down at my waffles, but my appetite seems to have gone sideways. I can feel eyes on me. Dozens of eyes. Maybe tens of dozens. How big is this place anyway? “Fine. Yes, let’s talk.”

He holds his hand out, but I ignore it, getting out myself and walking past him with my fists clenched, my chin high. The whole restaurant seems to have gone quiet.

The door jingles as I shove it open and storm out onto the sidewalk.

Griffin’s so close behind me he catches the door. “Sasha—”

I whirl on him. “What the hell is going on?” There are a bunch of staring people out here, too, but I’m too upset to move somewhere private.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. It just makes the most sense.”

“How does marrying someone you barely know make sense?”

“It’s my best shot at keeping you safe, Sasha.” His voice is low to keep our conversation private, though the looky-loos don’t seem to notice. One older woman’s full-on stopped—she might as well have pulled out a bucket of popcorn.

I throw up my hands in exasperation. “I know that’s your whole thing, but at some point, you’ve got to have a better answer than that.”

He smiles at the woman standing next to us and seems to do a quick assessment of where we are before holding his hand out to me.

I stare at it like it’s a code I can’t decipher, and he jerks his chin toward the corner.

Right. Though I’m still a freak-out in human form, I let him guide me around the corner to a smaller street where, miraculously for this adorable but nosy small town, there are no people.

He doesn’t let go once we’re clear of people, and for a moment, I let myself lean into how good his big, warm hand feels wrapped around mine.

Then I pull it away for pride’s sake, stuffing my hands in my pants pockets.

“The company I work for has strict policies in place about employee family safety,” Griffin says, answering my question at last.

My fingers brush against something in my pocket. It’s the little canary. I curl it into my palm. How ironic that it was this I took with me from home. The one thing that made me feel like I wasn’t an inconvenience.