Lie to Me (Pearl Island Trilogy #4)(73)
“Of course.” Chloe nodded.
DeeDee LeRoche stepped past them into the house, leaving them alone.
“So, that’s your grandmother,” he said, for lack of a better topic.
“The current grand matriarch,” Chloe said with an eye roll that did nothing to diminish her smile.
He let his gaze take another trip down her body. “You look amazing.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” Her lashes lowered and then lifted as she took in his suit.
“That’s a relief, since this is why I’m late.” He circled a finger to indicate his attire. “I ran into a glitch with my Style app.” He cringed the second the words left his mouth.
“Your what?” She blinked at him.
“Style app,” he sighed, figuring he might as well spill it. “I developed it a few years ago, when I got tired of dressing like a loser.”
“Oh my God.” She pressed a hand to her mouth as laughter bubbled out. “That is too funny.”
“Okay, so now you know I’m a loser despite the clothes.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” she assured. “I meant it makes total sense. And explains a lot.”
“Like what?” Her laughter made him leery.
“Like how you always look so put together, as if you spend way too much time standing in front of a mirror obsessing over your appearance. I know you’re not like that, though, so I couldn’t figure it out.”
“You don’t like how I dress?”
“I do, now that I know your secret.” The way she eyed him raised his body temperature a few degrees. “So, what was the glitch in your app?”
“I only programmed it to track style changes for casual clothes. Since I didn’t have time to rework the code and order a suit online, I had to go shopping. As in actual shopping. In the real world.” He widened his eyes to convey the horror he’d lived through.
“You poor baby.” Her lips pursed in mock empathy.
“Then, I got the clothes home, and I couldn’t remember what the sales dude said about which tie went with which shirt. Something about yellow being the new black. Or was it green? Whatever. But a flower tie? Do straight guys actually wear this stuff?”
“It’s perfect,” she assured him, touching the tie that the salesman had told him was a trendy throwback to the psychedelic flower-power days but in muted shades. Having her fingers on his chest did funny things to his pulse.
“You have no idea how relieved I am,” he said. Chloe liked him exactly as he was, Style app and all.
She slid her arm into the crook of his elbow. “How about I get you some champagne to help you recover from your traumatic day?”
“I’d like that,” he said, and for the first time since spotting her, he took in the scene around him.
“It doesn’t look that bad,” he said. Strings of white lights had been wrapped around all the trees, giving the garden a fairytale quality. Uniformed waiters moved through the crowd of women in colorful cocktail dresses and men in grey suits. Music from the string quartet underscored the cheerful conversations. Old money and distinguished lineage scented the air as heavily as the magnolia blossoms.
He experienced an unexpected twinge of intimidation as he wondered what the heck he was doing there. He would never have pictured himself, or anyone in his family, attending a party like this. He could picture members of his family working a party like this, but attending as a guest? Nope.
When he accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter, Chloe held up her own. “Cheers,” she said, the humor in her eyes telling him she found the whole scene a bit absurd.
“Cheers,” he said, returning the toast. Looking for something positive to say, he eyed the long buffet table skirted in white linen. “The food looks good.”
“The food is excellent,” she informed him dryly. As they made their way to the buffet, she leaned closer with a smile. “But I’d rather be at a pig roast.”
He took up a white china plate and started filling it with hors d’oeuvres, then frowned when she didn’t do the same. “Aren’t you having any?”
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
Looking into her eyes, he saw signs of tension that tugged at his heart. He wanted to erase it, and bring back the laughter that had bubbled out of her so effortlessly yesterday.
“Wanna know the best way to survive a situation like this?” he asked, popping a stuffed mushroom into his mouth.
“What?” she asked, clearly intrigued.
“Pretend that fire-breathing dragon from Vortal just dropped right into the middle of the garden.”
Her eyes widened. “I love that!”
“Can’t you just picture the chaos?” he asked. “People screaming and running.”
“Except us, of course.” Her shoulders squared. “We’d whip out our swords and go to town, kicking dragon butt. Not too fast, though. I’d probably let the beast incinerate DeeDee’s buffet and maybe snack on a few of the guests first.”
“You are so wicked.” He shook his head, grinning at her.
“You like me wicked.” Humor sparkled in her eyes.
God, I love you, he thought, and felt his heart thud against his ribs. A streak of panic followed at the urge to say the words aloud. Despite the sizzle of attraction he felt from Chloe each time their gazes met, they were a long way from saying the L word to each other. She might never want to say it. Heck, two days ago, they’d still been furious with each other.