Play Along(41)

“I didn’t ask you,” my wife shoots back.

Her body is tense, and not from my touch, so I try to distract her by brushing my fingertips along the top of her shoulder, dusting the back of her neck.

Connor tracks the whole thing.

“I’m just saying,” Mallory continues. “Compared to your last ring, this one is—”

“Something I actually like.” Kennedy reaches over the table to clasp my other hand. “If you’re so obsessed with my previous engagement ring, Mallory, why don’t you ask for it from the man who gave it to me.”

Mallory’s lips thin. “I don’t want it. I love mine.” Her fingers wiggle to show off the diamond that is much smaller and more subtle than the one Kennedy used to wear.

To be frank, it looks much more like Kennedy’s style than her previous ring.

I lean in close, running a soothing palm down her arm. “You good still?”

She nods, a small but proud smile on her face. Maybe for putting her stepsister in place. Maybe for not recoiling at my touch.

I decide to test the theory by moving my palm to her upper leg, under the table, fingers curling on the inside of her thigh.

Her hand that’s holding mine on the table grips tighter.

I lean down to whisper, “Tell me to stop.”

She shakes her head no.

With a knowing grin on my lips, I inch my hand higher.

Words are spoken, but I’m not paying attention.

I’m only watching Kennedy, noting the quickening of her pulse as I run my hand over her thigh.

She bites her lip and it reads as if she were nervous.

I give her leg a squeeze. “Kick my foot under the table.”

“No,” she breathes.

Fuck.

Instead, Kennedy slightly widens her knees, giving me another couple of inches I could travel north, and I swear to God, I’m on the brink of losing it thanks to her permission.

“Connor will be taking over the company when I retire,” Henry tells his guests. “My son, Dean, over there wanted no part of the family business. He wanted to play a game as his career, so we’re lucky that my soon-to-be son-in-law has the business sense that he does.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Dean mutters under his breath.

I trace my fingertips on the inside of Kennedy’s thigh, thankful for the black material of her dress acting as a barrier to stop me because I’m fairly certain I’d die a quick death if she ever let me touch her properly.

“How long have you two been engaged?” Mr. Smith asks Connor as Mallory runs her hand over his suit jacket. She’s practically on top of him already, but still she tries to get closer.

“What is it, babe?” Mallory asks Connor. “Eight months already?”

Her stepsister shows off her engagement ring again, but I don’t think Kennedy is even paying attention this time. Her eyes are on my traveling hand, her knuckles are white as they grip mine, and she still won’t kick me under the table.

In theory, it’s innocent. A man resting his hand on his wife’s leg, fingertips drawing lazy circles on the inside of her thigh. But Kennedy has never been touched, so nothing about this feels fucking innocent.

“Best eight months of my life.” Connor turns and places a kiss on Mallory’s lips.

“More like the best three years of your life,” she corrects.

I freeze my movements.

Kennedy goes still.

The room goes silent, all but Henry’s business guests understanding why.

Kennedy and Connor split just over a year ago.

“Fucking asshole,” Dean says from next to me and maybe for the first time in my life, I agree with the guy.

“Oops,” Mallory laughs, left hand going over her mouth to hide her smile, ring on full fucking display. She looks right at my wife when she says, “Cat’s out of the bag, I guess.”

Kennedy’s foot nudges mine. It’s not exactly a kick and I’m not sure if it was done on purpose, but I remove my hand from her thigh regardless.

“Why don’t we go have a nightcap on the terrace,” Henry suggests to the Smiths. “I’m told the view is amazing and we can talk more about how incredible it would be to work together.”

It’s evident by the way he ushers the Smiths out of the room and doesn’t make eye contact with his kids that no one other than his wife is welcome to join.

Jennifer is the last to leave the room. But before she goes, she stops next to Kennedy and leans down to hiss, “You don’t get to throw a fit over this. You wouldn’t pick a wedding date. You wouldn’t touch the man in public. You can’t blame him for finding that elsewhere so don’t you dare pout in front of Henry’s business guests.”

Pout? She’s sitting here entirely emotionless.

“Excuse me?” I stand from my seat. “Watch your fucking words when you’re speaking to my wife.”

She blanches. “What did you just say to me?”

“I don’t think you need me to repeat myself.”

She scoffs, trying to cover it with a disbelieving laugh. “Kennedy Elizabeth Kay, I suggest you either tame the wild animal you brought with you to dinner or leave him at home next time. This behavior is unacceptable. Know your place.”

Jennifer leaves the room at the same time Kennedy pulls me back down to my seat.