Page 50

And I shiver.

Something he sees, given the soft laughter that puffs against my ear.

Ugh. What an asshole.

I throw my elbow out, tagging him in the side.

He grunts, jerking in his chair, but at least it gains me a couple of inches.

Noble, sitting on my other side, chuckles and when I turn my gaze to his, I see that he hasn’t missed my little elbow. “Good pancakes, blondie,” he says lightly.

“You get enough to eat?” I ask, starting to push out of my chair. “I can make some more.”

Something flashes through his eyes but before he can reply, Ace drops his hand onto my thigh and yanks me back down the couple of inches I rose.

That touch has heat exploding between my legs and it takes everything in me to not react, to not squeeze my thighs together, to ease the sudden ache between them.

“Eat, princess,” Ace growls.

“He’s right.” Noble’s voice draws my gaze back to his and I don’t miss Ace’s fingers tightening (how could I?) when I pay attention to his brother again. “You’ve got tits and ass⁠—”

My mouth drops open and Joan gasps across the table. “Noble!”

“—but those tits and that ass will get a hell of a lot better with more pancakes.”

I roll my eyes. “Freaking hockey players,” I mutter.

“Violet is perfect as she is,” Joan says, outrage written all across her face. And Jesus, how is she still so nice while surrounded by these hooligans? “She can eat the pancakes or not, but it’s her choice.”

I smile at her.

“I vote for more ass and tits,” Ace says, shoving the plate toward me.

I glare at him as Steve grunts in laughter.

Joan swats her husband then turns her glare to Noble. “See what you started?”

To put the argument to bed (and God, I really shouldn’t be thinking about beds with Ace’s hand on my thigh), I fork in my pancakes as quickly as possible then lift my plate from the table, push back my chair—which has the side benefit of dislodging that big, warm palm from my leg—and take it over to the sink, starting in on the dishes.

“You don’t have to—” Joan begins, hurrying to my side.

“I’ve got it,” I tell her. “Why don’t you get ready for our trip to the spa? Is Jenny going to join us?”

She stills, sadness creeping into her eyes. “I invited her but—” Her throat works, cutting off the words.

I dry my hand on the towel then gently touch her arm. “She’s probably busy with all the last-minute wedding details.”

Her face clears and she nods, smiling. “You will just love the spa. Alex gives the best facials and massages I’ve ever had⁠—”

“Is Alex a man or a woman?”

I jump, not having sensed Ace coming near. Then his question processes, and I turn and scowl at him. “Why does that matter?”

“Alex is a woman.” Joan pats my shoulder and winks at me. “I’ll go get ready.”

Fingers on my nape, a hard body close to mine. “No man touches you except me.”

I open my mouth to tell him everything that’s wrong with that statement.