Page 55 of The Grump I Got Stuck With

“Are you okay?” Madison asked, catching my forearm. Kenna, who didn’t seem to have noticed anything had happened, skipped away to talk to the hostess.

“Yes,” I stated, voice deliberately calm. “Are you?”

She nodded, those cherry lips twisting. “When I imagined paparazzi, I didn’t think they actually jumped out of the bushes like that. But you sort of rushed us in here like a SWAT team. Was it only one guy?”

“That’s all it takes. One photo. One person,” I said, sharper than I’d meant to. “The bastard is probably on the phone to all his little mates right now. This place will be crawling with cameras by the time we leave.”

Madison blinked, a little taken aback. “Or it’s just one guy with a camera who got a little excited.”

I huffed a humorless laugh. “You don’t get it. You haven’t had your life turned into a headline overnight.”

Madison’s grip on my arm tightened, keeping my frustration at bay. “You’re right. I don’t know what that’s like.”

“You think I’m overreacting?” I growled, not appreciating her pacifying tone, like she was just humoring me.

“No. But I do think you’re preparing for the worst before it’s even happened. We know he’s out there. We know there might be more when we leave. So now we can prepare for it. In the meantime, let’s just enjoy dinner.” She ran her hand down my arm, linking our fingers briefly. “I really am having a wonderful time so far.”

Don’t let this ruin it, went unsaid. I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair. She was right. The cameras weren’t permitted inside the restaurant. For now, we were safe. Time to clear my head and focus on what really mattered: making sure Kenna and Madison had the meal of their lives.

I found myself glancing in the direction of the door once more just in case, then I shook off the unease that twisted in my stomach and offered her my arm. “Shall we?”

Madison threaded her arm through mine as I escorted her to our private dining room. Kenna had already dragged her chair over to peruse the tank of tropical fish that ran the length of one wall.

“It’s beautiful in here,” Madison said as I pulled out her chair.

“It is now,” I agreed, and she flushed in my favorite way.

“How were your meetings?” she asked, clearing her throat and unfolding a napkin on her lap.

I unbuttoned my jacket and took my seat. “Informative. A few of my investments are doing better than anticipated, which is always a nice update to receive.”

“Did you take any meetings with new projects?”

“Alfie arranged a couple prospective pitches.”

“Anything intriguing you so far?”

I caught her eye before my gaze dropped. “Only one thing has truly intrigued me today.”

Madison caught her lip between her teeth, picking up her water glass and taking a sip, looking almost grateful as the waiter turned up to bring us our first wine pairing.

My heart flip-flopped in my chest as I watched her sip her wine. A bead of liquid remained on her lip, and I wanted to lean over and lap it up with my tongue. But now was not the time with Kenna flitting about the room.

She bounded back to the table, and I let her crawl into my lap, regaling me with everything they’d done today as we enjoyed course after course. I paid attention to everything Kenna said, of course, but I also marveled at Madison’s joyful expressions and the little hums she made when she really liked something. I’d have to take her out again. London had a vast range of culinary delights to explore, and I wanted to give her all those experiences.

Kenna enjoyed her dinner but loved her dessert, which included maybe more chocolate ganache than a four-year-old really needed. But after the busy day, the sugar rush didn’t last long. She was almost asleep in her chair by the time Madison and I finished.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” I told Madison.

I scooped up an exhausted Kenna into my arms. She snuggled into my shoulder. “Hand me her coat, please. We’ll use it to shield her face in case there’s more of them out there.”

Madison did, tucking it around Kenna to block her from any paparazzi that might be waiting for us outside.

“Just keep your head down and walk straight to the limo,” I told her as we made our way back through the lobby of the restaurant. “And don’t respond to anything they ask you.”

“Right,” she said, a concerned line appearing between her brows.

I reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’ll be all right. I promise.” I was going to protect her, even if that meant I had to buy up and burn down every single one of those gossip rags myself.