Reunited with the Lassiter Bride

“I need some real food,” said Evan.

“Get them to bring you the duck or the lamb,” Angelica suggested. “But I think I’m going to have to trust you on how those taste. I couldn’t possibly eat anymore.”

“You’d actually trust me on something?” asked Evan, a lilt to his tone.

She turned to rebuke him for the sarcasm, but then she caught the sparkle in his eyes. She realized she had to stop being so touchy. He’d always had a dry sense of humor. She used to enjoy it.

“So long as you don’t try to steal what’s rightfully mine,” she countered.

In answer, he snagged the remaining bite of brie and smoked trout from her plate, popping it in his mouth.

“Hey!” she protested.

“Guess you shouldn’t have trusted me after all. Wow, this is good. Definitely add that to the list.”

“You stole my trout.”

“You left it unguarded.”

“You said I could trust you.” She knew she should be annoyed, but she was only barely able to keep from laughing.

“I believe you were the one who offered to trust me.”

“Clearly, I was wrong about that.”

“Clearly.”

She sniffed. “Well, you owe me some trout.”

“I’ll trade you for some duckling.”

“Are you ordering the duckling?” asked Deke. “Then I’ll try the veal.”

Angelica glanced at the menu. “You mean the duck flambé? With orange brandy?”

“That’s the one,” said Evan.

“You got yourself a trade.” She was about to shake on it, then quickly realized it was a mistake, and redirected her hand to her wineglass, lifting it and taking a sip of the rich merlot.

Evan smirked. He reached below the table between them, squeezing her other hand. She nearly inhaled her wine.

He leaned close, muttering in an undertone as Deke commented to Tiffany about the stuffed mushrooms. “It’s okay to touch me, Angie.”