Page 66 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)

The following scene takes place at the reception for the Romano hospital wing dedication.

JAMES

Her full lips spread into a sweet smile, and she rests one hand over her heart as she listens intently to the woman who hasn’t stopped talking long enough to take a breath in fifteen minutes.

She has the most innocent doe eyes, and right now they shine with polite curiosity.

Dark hair falls in thick, shiny waves down her back and over her shoulders, and I’m sure the effortless look was only achieved after an hour of work and half a dozen hair products.

Her black, floor-length gown brushes the ground with each graceful movement, and the mesh sleeves reach all the way to the gold bracelets adorning each of her slim wrists.

The dress clings to her upper body and flows elegantly down her legs.

It’s a modest piece—without the waist-high slits or swooping necklines the other women boast—and yet, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her for a single second.

More specifically, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her hand .

It rests in the crook of my brother’s arm—my brother, who hasn’t given his date a second glance all night long. Logan’s currently deep in conversation with Anthony Amato, a boss who leads a family within our territory, while his wife, Joan, continues in her endless rambling.

I pull my eyes from them just long enough to scan the room and find—unsurprisingly—that everyone is watching the pair just as intently as I am. They aren’t even subtle about it, and their excited murmurs fill the room with an electric buzz. I have to focus on the jazz band to tune them out.

And really, a jazz band? As if this reception wasn’t difficult enough to get through.

My eyes find the happy couple just in time to catch her flash Logan a doe-eyed, hopeful look, one that he ignores—if he sees it at all, that is, and I’m not convinced he did, because that would require him to acknowledge her existence.

She shows no outward sign of disappointment as she drops her gaze, but that doesn’t mean there is none.

If Isabella Romano were on fire, she’d let her skin melt before admitting it’s getting warm.

When she flashes Logan yet another look that goes ignored, I’ve reached my limit.

I pull out my phone and type out a message to Damon.

James: Logan’s on edge. You should call and update him on how things are going at the manor.

His answer is instantaneous.

Damon: I’m in my office. There is no update.

I finish off my drink and grab another.

James: Humor me.

Instead of answering, he likes my message, and I actually laugh because who the hell uses those features anyway? Teenage girls, sure, but mafia capos?

I tuck my phone away and wait for Damon to call Logan, but he doesn’t.

Mr. Amato turns to his wife, pulling her from Isabella to say something.

Isabella uses the opportunity to shift closer to Logan, rising onto her tiptoes to get his attention.

He leans over until her lips are at his ear, and I can’t make out what she’s saying, but judging by the coy smile on her lips, I know I wouldn’t like it.

I can’t see my brother’s face from here, but I don’t need to.

He’s wearing the stony expression he always does at these events.

The one that says, I’m only here as a reminder that despite the fact that I’m over a decade younger than all of you, you still answer to me, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.

When she finishes talking, Logan tilts his head as he murmurs a response.

I can’t tell by her reaction of a polite smile whether he responded the way she hoped he would, but I doubt he did.

Then, as if sensing my attention for the first time, Isabella’s eyes meet mine.

I’d kill—and I mean literally commit murder—to see a crack in her mask, but there is none. Her eyes don’t widen in surprise, her hands don’t clench into fists, her breathing doesn’t visibly quicken, and there’s no rosy blush creeping up her cheeks.

There is, however, a challenge in her brief glance.

I flash her a grin, happily accepting that challenge before she returns her attention to Logan.

He finally turns to face her, giving her his full attention for the first time tonight. Her grin widens, and everyone in this room will think the big, beautiful smile is for my brother, but it’s not.

That triumphant look is for my benefit.

Isabella’s head tilts to one side, her hair cascading over her shoulder in elegant waves as she lifts one hand and places it on Logan’s chest.

Just then, my twin reaches into his pocket, checks his phone, and steps out of her reach.

Note to self: Thank Damon for having impeccable timing.

Logan lifts a hand to excuse himself before he leaves the room.

Once again, Isabella is unfazed. Even as her date walks away, leaving her stranded in a setting where everyone is grouped up, she doesn’t look uncomfortable. In fact, she looks perfectly at ease, like it was her idea and not a phone call that led him out the door.

I don’t even wait until Logan’s out of the room. Taking a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter’s tray, I stride toward her, holding it out as a peace offering.

Her expression remains composed, but I can sense her frustration, even as she smiles and accepts the glass.

Isabella brings the drink to her lips. “I should’ve guessed that was your doing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I heard my father on the phone with him a few days ago,” she says with a nod in the direction Logan went. “I know he’s proposing next weekend.”

“Is that right?” I say conversationally.

Her expression is unchanging, but she lifts her chin in the slightest act of rebellion. “You need to stop this.”

“I wasn’t aware I’d started something.”

She flashes me a brief, knowing look that could easily be interpreted as playful by our onlookers.

“I’m going to say yes to him, James. We’ll be married in a matter of months, and you and I will have to live under the same roof. Don’t make this more difficult than it’s already going to be.”

“Difficult? Which part? Being trapped in a loveless marriage, or living so close to what you actually want?”

“You’re delusional,” she whispers, omitting the implied eye roll.

“Better than being in denial.”

“Coming from the one who’s trying to keep me off my fiancé’s arm.”

Shrugging, I lift my drink to my mouth and make a show of leaning to the side to get a better view of her hand. “Funny. I don’t see a ring.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says with her darling smile cemented in place. “When I do get the ring, I won’t let you forget it.”

She’s hoping to get a rise out of me. If we were alone, I wouldn’t bother with the show, but it wouldn’t change anything for her. Isabella has been putting on a show for so long, I doubt she even knows what’s real anymore.

But I’m sure that fact makes it easier to believe she’ll actually marry Logan.

“Is that right?” I say again.

“It is. So go ahead and mess with me all you want now, because you won’t get to push me around once I’m your boss’s wife.”

I’m tempted to screw with her some more, but I don’t get a chance. She turns her back and glides across the dance floor to a group of women who eagerly question her, no doubt about Logan.

I almost feel bad for her.

She has no idea that Kasey’s back, and that—even if he doesn’t know it himself—Logan isn’t going to let her go again. I might’ve been worried about Logan proposing to Isabella before, but now that Kasey’s back?

There’s no way in hell.

He may be going through the motions now, but that’s all this is.

And when Logan finally comes to his senses and Isabella is a loose end that he has no idea how to tie up, I’ll step in. I have the perfect solution—one where my brother marries the woman he loves, our family ties are not only maintained but strengthened, and I get the girl.

Logan might’ve been the one promised to Isabella, but she was mine first.