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“No thanks, just normal. Fever Tree if you have it.” She smirks but finally turns away from us. “Do I look like I need slimline,” I try to joke to Kellen as she moves away with even more sway.
“No you fucking don’t,” he growls, throwing a dirty look the way the girl had gone.
I laugh, “Is that normal?”
He looks at me, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I guess. I’ll sort it if she keeps it up.”
We go back to silence, training our eyes at the tabletop. God this is awkward.
We both look up at the same time and he smiles. “Fuck, E, why does this feel so awkward?” He moves as if he’s going to pick up my hands across the table, thinks better of it, then pulls back with a big breath that makes his shoulders move up and down.
“Maybe because you insulted me and you don’t know how to apologise?” I cock my head to one side and he smiles wide with both dimples showing.
“You know I’m sorry and did not really mean that.”
“No, Kellen,” shaking my head from side to side, “I don’t.”
This time he does take my hands in his. They swamp mine, and he stares at them, moving his thumbs side to side over the back of my hands. Turning them over, he runs his fingers over my palms. What is he doing? It feels like someone just plugged in an electric current and hooked me up full voltage. I literally jump at the contact and he stares, a smile breaking out across the whole of his face and eyes.
He’s lit up like New Year’s fireworks at the London Eye. Smiling, he says, “I’m sorry, Evie. Forgive me?”
The waitress lands back at the table just as I’m about to completely fold and accept his apology. He moves back suddenly, removing the offending hands, and puts his arms at his sides, sitting back in one of the most cocksure postures I have seen in a long time. I smile at the girl—don’t know why I bother—again. Of course, she’s not looking at me and spills my tonic onto the table and over me onto my seat as she completely misses my glass.
Kellen jumps up and pulls me out of the booth. Mick and Tommy stand and rush over. The girl looks terrified at all these men jumping into action and finally looks at me.
“I, I’m really sorry,” she stammers. “I’ll dry the seat or you can sit elsewhere.” She looks around the room in fright as the two large men move towards us.
Kellen moves me to where he was sitting and pushes me into the booth seat, scooting me along before he turns to address the situation. “Just get another tonic and leave, we’ll sort it. It’s okay Mick,” he says to the two men now standing at the side of our booth. “Just a spilt drink.”
“She was taking pictures from the bar,” he tells us.
“Fuck. I thought we’d get longer than that,” Kellen says frustrated.
“Look, it doesn’t matter,” I chip in. “I won’t be much longer. I can say what I need to say and go. It’s not a bother.”
Kellen looks at me like I’ve lost my marbles. “No chance, Evie. Can you sort it, Mick?”
“Yes, of course we can,” Tommy replies before Mick can agree.
I smile up at him and he touches my arm before moving towards the bar and the girl while Mick moves back towards their seats near the door. I decide to go for it before anything else happens, but Kellen moves onto the booth seat next to me, effectively hemming me in.
“Don’t leave,” he demands, turning his face towards me. His eyes burn into mine. “Don’t, Evie, don’t leave.” He doesn’t blink as he waits for me to agree. I blow out a breath and nod imperceptibly.
Kellen nods his head and sits back slightly, his leg touching mine, his body twisted slightly, one arm behind me along the back of the booth and the other on the table.
I pick up my now full gin and tonic glass and take a big gulp. Bigger than I intended, as I start to cough. He laughs and pats my back as I splutter and my eyes stream. “Ah gawd,” I say as I get my breath back and sit back in the booth, “what a nightmare.”
He takes a sip of his drink, his eyes on my face, then he looks down at my dress, touches my hair with his hand at the back of the booth. I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it.
“You look pretty tonight, Evie.” His eyes land on my bare legs. My dress is not short, it's knee length, but as he pushed me into the booth it rode up to mid-thigh and twisted around my frame, gaping open around my boobs. He stills when he realises.
I try to wriggle around to move the dress to cover up, muttering, “I’m not sure thirty-six-year-olds are pretty, Kel.” But my heart rate kicks up, and I feel my stomach flutter with nerves.
He shrugs, looking back up at my face. “You are.”
“Look, I came tonight to talk things through. I don’t want my son upset and not knowing which way to turn because you’re on one side and me and my brothers are on the other. He was a mess today. He doesn’t know what to do; what would be best. Regardless of what you, my brothers, or even I think, we have to put him first.” I look him in the eye, waiting for an argument.
“I know,” he says quietly, moving his hand to bring my dress around to cover more of my breasts. “I’ll try.”
