Sylvie and Margaret’s gazes follow my hand, then rise back to my face.
I take a lock of Becca’s hair and slowly wrap it around my finger. “Besides, my wife used a secret ingredient, which is what makes it so good.”
Becca starts, giving me a sidelong glance. In response, I grin innocently, all the while thinking her lips look really nice when they’re parted in surprise.
“She did?” Sylvie’s eyes glitter with envy. Is she upset about the secret ingredient, too? “What was it?”
“Well, now, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.” I kiss the silky hair loosely wrapped around my finger, since I can’t kiss Becca on the mouth at the moment. “Anyway, if it isn’t sweet enough, you can always sprinkle more sugar on it, I’m sure.” I smile at Margaret. “I do apologize if my diet has ruined the pie for you.”
She smiles brightly. “Of course not. And perhaps you’re right. The pie is good just the way it is. You’re not the only one who needs to watch what they eat. I blow up like one of those poisonous puffer fish if I’m not careful.”
Becca merely smiles.
When dessert’s over, everyone gets up to clean up. Margaret tells me to stay at the table, but I refuse because I get the feeling Becca might need some backup in the kitchen.
Margaret packs up some leftover meat in a Tupperware. “Here you go,” she says. “Seems like you’ll enjoy it.”
“I will. Can’t remember when I’ve had a meal this good. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Devlin. It’s always a joy to eat with a handsome young man.” She beams then turns to Becca. “You’re lucky to marry a man as good as this one.”
Becca nods.
Man, I’m good at this. I’m getting laid tonight for sure. I put an arm around Becca and smile at Margaret. “I’m the lucky one. You have no idea how nervous I was when I proposed.”
“Why? It wasn’t like she was going to say no,” Sylvie says cattily.
“She had a lot of options,” I say seriously. “You should’ve seen her in New York. She was surrounded by admirers.” Is being cornered by a pervert the same as being surrounded by admirers? I decide it’s a stretch I can live with.
“You know she’s weird, don’t you?” Sylvie says, and Becca stiffens against me.
“Aren’t we all?” My eyes are shooting, Bless your heart, bitch! even though my mouth is smiling. “I like people with quirks. More interesting that way.” I make a show of checking the time. “Anyway, it’s getting late, and we don’t want to impose. Plus I’m a little tired from that drive from Dallas.”
“Of course.” Margaret gives a hospitable smile. “You should get some rest. And Devlin?”
“Yes?”
“We’re family now. You stop by anytime you want, you hear?”
“Thank you. I do appreciate it.”
I give her a quick kiss on the cheek, then usher Becca out of the house before I suffocate from all the passive-aggressive kindness.
Chapter Twenty-One
Devlin
The second we’re inside the Maserati, I suck in the clean, non-Margaret and -Sylvie-polluted air. My God, I’ve been around some toxic women before, but they are about the worst. They should come with a warning.
“Are you okay?” Becca asks.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Now that I’m away from them—and with her—I’m feeling nine hundred percent better.
I start the car and pull out of the driveway then link my hand with hers, threading our fingers together.
She shifts her hand a little bit, then clears her throat. “You don’t have to pretend now,” she says.
“You never know. Somebody could be watching.” It’s a ridiculous excuse, but I don’t want to let go, so I don’t care what crazy things I have to say. I keep my eyes on the road. Not even ten minutes to Becca’s home. Have to say, there are advantages to a small town like Drover.