Page 78 of Yours To Take
“You like him.” Layla gives me a knowing look.
“Shh!” I look down the table, making sure my brothers are still occupied. The last thing I want is themactuallydrilling Blake tonight. “I know, so just let it go.”
“Sorry about that,” Blake says, taking the seat next to me.
Layla helps Willow pile mac and cheese on her plate, but not before casting a glance at Blake.
I turn my attention back to him, dropping a hand on his leg. “You’re fine.”
The smile he gives me in return doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It sets off a flood of nerves in my stomach.
“Everything okay?”
“I’m real glad you could join us, Blake,” Gramps interrupts.
Food is spread out on the old, wooden table. Chicken, steak, vegetables. Mac and cheese just for Willow. I don’t know the last time I missed a family dinner.
It’s one of the reasons I love this place. Our family history is etched into everything.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Blake says, a little more at ease now. “Gemma told me my family dinner scene sucked, so I’m glad I can get the real deal.”
“You told him that?” Layla asks from across the table. She passes the dumplings across the table.
“I said it much nicer than that.”
“She did,” Blake confirms. “I already know she was right.”
“How’d you write this family dinner?” Mason asks.
“As Gemma said, not enough noise.”
Everyone bursts out laughing.
“We are not that loud, Gem,” Peter laughs.
“You want to think about that statement again?” Gramps gives Peter a stern eye.
“I’m the quietest one here!” he defends.
“Yet, whenever you get into a tizzy, you get louder and louder.” Mason tosses a roll at Peter’s head, where it bounces and rolls across the table.
“I thought you said we couldn’t throw food?” Willow asks around a mouthful of orange noodles.
“You can’t,” Peter tells her, “but I can.” He hefts it back at Mason who grabs it out of the air and takes a bite.
“So you agree then that you get louder as you get riled up?”
“I only get riled up because of you!” His voice grows louder, proving Mason’s point. “Tell him I don’t get riled up, Nash.”
“You don’t get riled up, dear.” He drops a placating kiss on his cheek.
“Wow. See if I let you into the house tonight.”
“I’ll take you home, Nash,” Logan tells him. “We can lock him out.”
“That’s it, I’m changing the locks.” Peter stuffs a bite of chicken into his mouth as everyone continues to give him grief.
“Are all of your dinners like this?” Blake whispers.
