Page 64 of Donovan's Men

Hamish’s gaze shot from his plate to Donovan. “You feel like opening your heart and soul? Or maybe this isn’t the time and place?”

Ouch. Hit a nerve, did he?

I was about to speak when Donovan beat me to it. “Point taken. I’m just concerned.”

“That I’ll try to back out of this? Whatever this is?” Hamish again waved his fork around to encompass the three of us.

“So yes, glitz and glamor. I even wore a tuxedo.” He shivered—clearly for show.

“You looked handsome.” I cut off a piece of steak. “Oh crap.” I glanced around and, in a moment of true providence, caught Patrice’s gaze.

She headed my way with a huge smile. “Everything okay? I meant to check earlier. We’re just so busy.”

Before I could speak, Hamish spoke up. “Delicious. Absolutely perfect.”

Patrice beamed. Then she turned her attention to me.

“Steak sauce?”

“You got it.” She surveyed the table. “Anything else?”

We all shook our heads.

She headed off.

“Steak sauce?” Donovan chuckled.

“British brown steak sauce.” I grinned. “My dad gave it to me when I was a kid, and I fell in love. Way better than ketchup on steak. Well, on most red meat.”

“I’d like to try a taste—without the steak.” Hamish grinned. “Being adventurous.”

“It’s got a bite to it.” Donovan arched his eyebrow at me.

I pressed a hand to my chest. “Are you saying I have a bite as well?”

“I’d love to find out—”

“Here’s your steak sauce.” Patrice placed it on the table and was gone again.

Donovan cleared his throat.

Hamish chuckled. “Tyson, you walked right into that one.”

I pursed my lips—for a fraction of a second. Then I smiled. “I’ve never tried nipping. Or biting. I’m intrigued.”

“Quite an adventure.” Donovan pointed to his arm. “Doesn’t show marks. Not that you’d be trying on me.”

Hamish let out a little strangled sound.

Donovan and I both laughed.

The oldest—and yet least experienced— cut another piece of waffle.

“Tuxedo? You looked amazing.” I doused my steak in the sauce.

“So you watched?”

Hamish snorted. “Of course we did.”