Page 110 of Rush

Broderick shifts beside me—the irritation radiates off him. His hand finds my thigh under the table.

This time,hesqueezes.

Hard enough to make me bite down on a gasp.

“You sure do,” James says, smiling like he thinks he’s charming. “Hopefully you can save me a dance at the reception?”

His eyes are wide. Eager. Too eager.

I open my mouth to respond—maybe something flirty—but Broderick beats me to it.

“Jim,” he says, voice tight, “let the girl eat her food before you try to shoot your shot—this isn’t happy hour.”

The table goes a little quiet.

James blinks, surprised. “Just being friendly.”

Broderick doesn’t even look at him—just picks up his fork, calm as anything. “Friendly’s not staring down her dress, bud.”

“Brody, as if you haven’t looked as well,” James says smugly.

He shakes his head slowly, unruffled. “Careful, James. You’re sounding a little desperate.” He sips his coffee, voice mild but edged. “Might scare her off before you even make it to the dance floor.”

“Boys, behave, this is a civilized breakfast.” I shoot a wink at James and the smile that spreads across his face makes Broderick’s whole body tense.

A slow, sharp smirk curls at my lips. I know I’ll pay for this.

I sip my mimosa again, biting back a laugh.

Beneath the table, Broderick’s hand trails up my skirt toward my thigh before pressing firmly, heat radiating from him like a warning.

I bite my lip trying to stifle a groan.

Mine,it says. Loud and clear.

As the last of the coffee cups are cleared and plates scraped clean, Yasmin—the ever-composed wedding coordinator—stands at the front of the banquet hall, clipboard in hand and headset barely visible beneath her sleek bun.

“Good morning, everyone,” she calls out with a bright, practiced smile. “Now that you’ve all been thoroughly spoiled, we have a few activities available for those of you looking to enjoy the estate this afternoon.”

She pauses as the room settles.

“For those interested, we’ve arranged horseback riding through the lower trails, spa treatments in the conservatory wing, garden strolls with guided history tours, and tee times available on the estate’s private golf course. Please see me or one of the staff if you’d like to book in.”

She flips her clipboard, her tone shifting to business-smooth. “And just a reminder to the bridal party, the wedding rehearsal begins at five sharp in the garden courtyard, followed by the rehearsal dinner with everyone else at seven in the Rose Room. Attire is cocktail formal.”

Then she smiles again—sharp, no-nonsense, perfectly in control.

“Enjoy the day, everyone.”

I spot Natalie, Philippa’s friend, walking over. “Hey ladies, mind if I join you?”

“Of course not!” Sienna says.

“Spa?” Philippa shrills, practically vibrating with excitement.

Sienna and Avery chime in with matchingwoos, clinking their mimosas.

Riley and I glance at each other and roll our eyes.