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Colin laughs. “Smart move. I’m following suit.”
Tim’s grinning at me. He knows full well I can never hold a grudge with him for long.
I shake my head at him. “You are dead to me.”
Tim’s phone alerts him to a text he’s just received, and after checking it, he says, “Sorry, I have to make a call.”
“Divine intervention,” Colin says after our brother walks away.
“Hopefully it’s one of his clients giving him hell,” I say.
Gage laughs. “What does he do?”
“He’s a paramedic.”
We get into a conversation with Colin after Gage asks him what he does. The two of them talk like they’ve known each other forever. It’s a skill my brother has. Both of them, actually. The ability to connect with ease and talk about anything. I was not blessed with the same ability. Networking and meeting people is awkward for me.
After Colin excuses himself to talk with one of our cousins, Gage says, “I like your brothers.”
“You like that they enjoy teasing me.”
“You told them about me.”
“I told them about myperiod.”
“And yet they know all about how I helped you.”
“We were texting at the time.” I pause before adding very firmly, “I swear, if you smirk again, I will make you regret it.”
He doesn’t stop watching me with that amusement, but he doesn’t smirk. And who knows what he would have said next if we weren’t interrupted by a server.
He offers a tray of appetizers. “Beef Wellington or seared scallops?”
I take the scallop and nod my thanks. Gage takes both.
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask for the entire tray,” I tease.
“I’m holding out for the tray with sliders,” he banters, scanning the room like he’s on a mission. “You know, real food.”
I laugh, and when his eyes return to mine, there’s a smile there. It’s easy, open, and free.
Never in a million years, would I have ever expected Gage to be like this. And I certainly wouldn’t have imagined just how much I enjoy spending time with him.
Feeling brave, and inspired by him to have some fun, I grab his hand while allowing a grin to spread across my face. “Come on, Mr. Periodgate, let’s get you some real food.”
His laughter trails behind me as I lead him to the server I saw carrying what my parents consider sliders.
“You think anything here comes with ketchup?” he deadpans after I pile mini brioche buns with truffle aioli and Wagyu beef onto a napkin for him.
“We may need to swing by McDonalds for you on the way home,” I deadpan back.
He laughs again and then leans in close. “You keep feeding me like this, and I’ll start thinking you like me.”
My pulse does something deeply inappropriate.
And while I’m having a moment over that, my ex-husband invades our party for two.
“Amelia,” he says, moving in close like he’s staking his territory. “Your father asked for us to stand together with him and your mother and brothers while he gives a little speech later.”