Page 66 of An Inevitable Marriage

Liam’s gaze lingered on mine for a few more beats before his back was to me, and I was tucked in behind him again.

The rational part of me told me to turn around and get security like I’d intended to. But the other part, the part that’d felt safe in this man’s arms, not once but twice today, that part yelled for me to stay right where I was.

So I did.

I held on to his jacket and followed behind him as we carefully made our way to the kitchen. About halfway into our trek, Liam cocked his head to look at me.

“Good?”

“Yes.”

And I was. I was still scared shitless of whatever we might walk into, but somehow, I was okay, too.

Those blue eyes bored into mine, watching me so intently I almost forgot how to breathe. And then, just when I couldn’t take it anymore, he turned his attention back to the front.

I took a deep drag of air to my lungs, then another. On my third breath Liam suddenly stopped walking.

“What the fuck?”

His tone wasn’t angry or even concerned; he was genuinely curious.

Which, of course, made me curious, too.

I peeked out behind his back and saw Rafe impersonating an ice skater with two dish towels under his shoes. His movements were choppy while he furiously tried to mop up the enormous red spill on the floor.

I was still staring when someone snickering caught my attention. Following the sound, my gaze landed on another guy sitting on the countertop. Arms stretched out behind him, he seemed relaxed and amused.

I remembered him from when we’d signed the contract and prenup, but for the life of me, I couldn’t recall his name.

“The fuck are you doing?” Liam’s voice boomed again.

“What does it look like,stupido?” Rafe growled without taking his eyes off his feet. “Cleaning.”

Liam folded his arms in front of his chest. “I can see that. What I don’t understand is why you’re doing it inmyapartment.”

“Poker night,” the guy on the countertop provided.

Liam sighed. “Have you lost your damn minds? You can’t just let yourselves in whenever you feel like it. Not anymore. Your little stunt today scared the shit out of Sn…Everlee.”

The way he’d said my name with that delicious British accent had the butterflies in my belly doing somersaults.

“We knocked,” countertop guy’s voice sounded again. “And when no one answered, we figured the coast was clear.”

“Fottuto bastardo.”

I didn’t know what it meant, but judging from Rafe’s tone, it couldn’t have been anything good.

“This is allyourdoing,” he spat at countertop guy.

“Hey, hey, hey.” The other guy held out his hands and hopped off the counter. “I didn’t tell you to follow me inside or, very rudely, yank the bottle of wine out of my hand. That was allyou.” Taking a wide step around Rafe and the mess, he headed to where we stood in the doorway.

With a huge grin, he peeked around Liam’s body. “I don’t think we’ve officially met.” He held out his hand. “Tristan.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rafe shove his middle finger at Tristan’s back while more, what I presumed to be, Italian curses spilled from his lips. A smile tugged at my mouth, and I bit my cheek to keep it from spreading.

“Everlee.”

The moment my palm touched Tristan’s, he flipped my hand and brought my knuckles to his lips. “An honor, Everlee.”