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I glare at him, gripping my mug like I might throw it at his head. "I hate you."

"You love me." He grins.

Dean leans back in his chair, eyeing me suspiciously. "You have been acting weird lately. Anything you want to tell us?"

Yes. That I'm living in a nightmare of my own making.

Instead, I plaster on my most innocent smile. "Nope. Just living my life. Thriving, actually."

Ryan snorts. "Thriving, huh? That why you look like you haven't slept?"

Damn it.

Distraction. I need a distraction. Something to steer this conversation anywhere other than my life, my face, my secrets.

I glance around the table, then realize something's missing—well, someone.

"Where's Emily?" I ask, shoving a forkful of pancake that Nate's passed in my direction into my mouth. "Finally come to her senses and run?"

Dean levels me with a look, the same one he used to give me when I tried to sneak out past curfew as a teenager. "She's sick."

I blink. "Like, actually sick, or ‘I married into the Bennett family and need a day of silence' sick?"

Ryan smirks. "Honestly, same result either way."

Dean ignores us both, lifting his coffee mug. "She woke up with a fever. I told her to rest."

I pause mid-chew. "And you left her?"

"She insisted."

I scoff. "Wow. Strong start to your marriage. ‘For better, for worse, in sickness and in health, except for Sunday brunch, which is sacred.'"

Dean rolls his eyes. "She told me to come. And I left her with soup and tea. She's fine."

"Uh-huh." I squint at him. "And you're sure this isn't, like, secretly a cover-up? Maybe she just couldn't take the overwhelming sex appeal of your Dad Face anymore and needed some space."

Ryan lets out a snort of laughter. Nate grins.

Dean, unimpressed, takes a slow sip of coffee. "You really want to talk about sex appeal right now?"

I freeze, fork halfway to my mouth, and immediately regret giving him ammunition.

Because Dean doesn't smirk often, but when he does, it's menacing.

"I mean," he continues, all casual-like, "you have been acting weird. Maybe you're the one who couldn't take the overwhelming sex appeal of some poor guy and that's why you look like you haven't slept."

Nate whistles. "Ooh, plot twist."

Ryan leans back in his chair, rubbing his chin in mock contemplation. "She has been awfully twitchy today. Maybe we should keep asking her about her love life."

"No," I say immediately, pointing a fork at them. "Absolutely not. That is not what's happening here. I just—Emily is missing, I was asking about her, and somehow, this happened."

Dean shrugs. "You redirected to me first."

"That's because your love life is boring," I argue. "You're married now. You don't get to be interesting anymore."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "And yet, you still seem fascinated."