A Cosmic Kind of Love(32)

His expression sobered. “I’m sure working together will give us enough time to get to know each other better.”

Amazed at his forgiving nature, I shook my head. “Wow. Okay. I . . . It’s more than I deserve, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He gestured to a server. “Can I flag you down a drink?”

“No, I don’t drink while I’m working.”

“Right. You’re working.”

Was that disappointment in his eyes, or was I just hoping it was disappointment?

“Speaking of.” I nodded to his nearly empty beer bottle. “Where did you get that?”

“I just asked a server.”

I chuckled, realizing what had happened. “My servers are under strict orders not to serve anything but the champagne until after dinner. Most of the guests know the protocol at these things, so it’s rarely an issue. But who can deny a national hero and social media star if all he asks for is a beer?”

Realization dawned on Christopher’s face. “Ah. Sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t pressure him for it.”

“No, I know.” I grinned at his uncomfortable expression. He didn’t like the fame? Interesting, considering he still posted regularly to Instagram. “You don’t need to. And I would have given you the beer too, even if I hadn’t watched those videos.”

“I don’t expect to be treated differently.” He shifted on his feet, not meeting my gaze anymore.

He was humble too? Thank you, Fates! Why don’t you just rip out my heart and give it to him now? “That’s admirable. But you’ve done something few people in the world have ever done. You’ve served your country here and up there.” I pointed upward. “That’s pretty impressive, Captain.”

His gaze zeroed in on me, something working behind his eyes. “Do you feel you know me?” he asked in a soft tone, curious, not accusatory. “Having watched those videos?”

Embarrassed but feeling I owed him, I answered honestly. “In a way.”

“Just in a way? I shared some personal things on there.”

“Some things. Mostly your thoughts on the world and on what you were doing. Yet, despite them being for Darcy, the whole time I kept thinking you were holding something back from her. It felt like you weren’t giving her all of you.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to die of mortification. How could I just blurt that out?

He raised his eyebrows, and an apology was just about to burst forth from me when he replied, “Maybe you’re right.”

I sucked in a breath of relief and then, as he held my gaze, staring at me like I was a puzzle he wanted to figure out, I think I stopped breathing.

Jesus, this whole situation was so surreal.

“Hallie, there you are.” Darcy’s voice jolted me, and I reluctantly tore my eyes from Christopher’s.

Darcy sidled up to us, leaning into Christopher with familiarity, her hand resting on his shoulder. I fought the urge to shove her hand off him.

Whoa.

I was feeling territorial.

Wonderful.

That was sarcasm, FYI.

Seeing them together was like a bucket of cold reality. In her high heels, Darcy was taller than Christopher, whom I might have read somewhere was just an inch shy of six feet. Yet, it didn’t look odd. He exuded too much charisma for anyone to care about the fact that his ex-girlfriend was taller than him when she wore heels.

They were striking together.

Her so fair and him so dark.

“Darcy.” I shook myself from my stupor. “Is everything all right?”

“One of my more irritating guests is complaining because the servers wouldn’t provide him with a beer.”

Christopher grimaced. “Ah, that might be my fault. I fear I might have set a precedent.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve earned your beer.” Darcy patted his shoulder, then turned to me. “What shall we do? Shall we forgo the champagne-only rule for now?”

“If that’s what you’d like, I can let the servers know.”

“Yes, to keep the peace. Jeffrey really isn’t one to understand the difference between himself, useless playboy heir to a fortune made by his parents, and national goddamn hero.” Her smile strained. “But my mother did insist I invite him.”

“Invite whom?” a sharp voice interrupted.

We all turned to admit the newcomer to our small group.

Darcy’s mother.

Mrs. Violet Prendergast-Hawthorne. Daughter of an oil baron. Old money. And she’d married into a lot of new money when she married Charles Hawthorne. Mother and daughter were uncannily alike, despite the age difference.

The frostiness on Violet’s face, however, melted as soon as she saw Christopher.

“Christopher, my darling boy, how wonderful to see you.” She pushed through us to take hold of his free hand between both of hers, and Chris kissed her cheek, his expression warm.

“Violet, it’s great to see you.”

She didn’t release his hand, standing close as she studied his face. “How are you? Your father says you haven’t yet made a decision about your future?”

Intense conversation for an engagement party.

“Mother.” Darcy gently eased between them. “Please don’t harass Chris at my engagement party.”