Page 54 of Right Man, Right Time
“Ollie, wait,” I hear him call out, but I ignore him.
I then spot the buffet.
Bingo.
This girl needs a freaking crab cake.
With one thing on my mind, I bolt to the buffet where I pick up a plate and examine all the fine foods expertly crafted.
Fruits, cheeses, crackers, fancy vegetables cut to look like flowers. Mini beef things that look tempting, shrimp in a dollop of cocktail sauce, and . . . crab cakes.
Come to mama.
Don’t mind distracting the hurt Silas just caused by a delicious, perfectly fried crab cake.
“I heard the beef Wellington is delicious,” a familiar voice says. I glance up to find Yonny standing beside me, plate in hand.
“Ah, beef Wellington, I couldn’t think of the name. Doesn’t that take a while to cook?”
“Apparently, that’s why it’s such a delicacy to have as an appetizer at a buffet. Although, I’ve never seen it like this, in bite-size nuggets.” He smirks at me, and it feels . . . odd. The last time he smirked at me was when he found out he could eat prepackaged cookie dough and not get sick.
So what’s with the smirk?
Is he flirting? No, he can’t be flirting. That’s not what he does. He’s just being nice.
“Have you had a lot of experience with beef Wellington?” I ask. Might as well partake in the conversation. It’s not like the last person I talked to was being polite.
“Not as much as I’m making it seem.” He leans closer with a smile playing on his lips. “Am I fitting in okay?”
“Uh . . . yes,” I say, smiling back because, good God, he’s actually being playful. What’s going on with him? He must be high.
“Fantastic. I wasn’t sure about attending tonight, but Candace told me I didn’t have an option.” He looks over his shoulder and says, “I borrowed this tux from my dad. Does it smell musty?”
I chuckle. He’s definitely high. I lean in closer, giving his tux a sniff. “No, it smells like your cologne.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing.”
“A good thing,” I say just as a strong arm wraps around my waist, pulling me in tight to an even stronger chest.
“Hey, baby,” I hear right before a pair of lips presses against my neck.
I might be irritated with the man, but oh my God, that little kiss sends a tsunami of chills up and down my legs. Damn him.
When he pulls away—and when I say away, I mean like an inch—he asks, “Can I get you another drink?” His thumb makes small circles over my waist.
So we’re just going to ignore our little conversation from a minute ago?Not going to act like you just told me to grow up? Going to assume all is right in the world?
Super.
“Sure,” I say, feeling my breath catch in my throat from his proximity. It’s easy to forget just how large he is, how his presence can eat up all the air around you. I realized that the moment I first kissed him, and I’m realizing that now as he holds me protectively in front of Yonny.
Not just protectively but...he’s claiming me.
He’s showing everyone in the room exactly who I belong to.
“Be right back.” He lays another kiss on my neck before taking off.
“So,” Yonny says, clearing his throat. “You seem to be happy.”
