I rubbed at my forehead. “Uh-huh.”
“He’s got this knack for making people talk about themselves—it’s impressive. And, my God, the charm. It’s not a salesman-type charm. He’s not talking non-stop, he’s listening. He focuses so intensely on whoever’s talking to him. Makes them feel so interesting.”
He did in fact do that.
“And didn’t you once tell me that he always seems to pick up on what you’re thinking? Well, psychopaths are masters at noticing micro-expressions. You know, the lightning-fast changes in our facial muscles?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “How is it you know so much about psychopaths?”
“I looked them up so I could study him for you. He ticks a lot of the boxes.”
I let out a heavy breath. “Ashley, he’s not a psychopath.”
“Why be in denial about it? It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Not all psychopaths kill. Some are very productive members of society.”
“Heather’s not a productive member.”
“She’s not a psychopath. She’s just a fucking nutjob. I tell ya, I’m surprised her skin hasn’t turned a deep shade of green. She’s bitter with envy. This makes me very happy.”
Just then, my father sidled up to us. “What makes you very happy?” he asked, his voice light and lilting. As I took in the warmth and softness in his expression and the effeminate air he now carried, I knew I wasn’t looking at my father.
I smiled. “Hi, Maggie. Enjoying yourself?”
“Oh, I’m enjoying watching you and your new man,” said Maggie. “I was hoping that my saying hello would throw him for a loop, but he didn’t bat an eyelid. He was very polite and respectful. I like that. And I like how he is with you. He looks at you like you’re the only thing worth his attention.”
Ashley nodded. “He is totally into you, Vienna. It’s the only reason I’m not panicking for you.”
Maggie’s brow creased. “Why would you panic for her? Oh, you mean because he’s a psychopath?”
I felt a growl bubble up my throat. “Come on, seriously?” They had to have gotten together beforehand and decided to tease me with this crap for their own entertainment.
Maggie shrugged. “What? You don’t think we’re right? Deacon is convinced of it. But he still likes Dane; likes that you have someone who can protect you. We all do. Even Freddie. He’s not ready to meet Dane yet, though. He needs a little time.”
“He can have as much time as he needs—there’s no rush,” I said.
“That’s what I told him. Now you go on back to Dane, Vienna. You can’t invite someone to a get-together and then leave them on their own for too long—it’s rude.”
Trust Maggie to care about that sort of thing. I headed out to the backyard … just in time to watch Heather try to pinch Dane’s ass.
Nancy swatted her hand. “Have a little pride, Heather. It’s so sad when a young lady shows no self-respect.”
Anger flickered to life in the pit of my stomach. It was one thing for Heather to flirt like an idiot. It was another for her to try to touch him. But I knew why she’d stepped up her game—she hadn’t gotten the reaction from me that she’d hoped for. She wanted to piss me off, ruin the day, and force me to make a spectacle of myself in front of my boyfriend by getting into an argument with her.
Not willing to give her what she wanted, I ignored her as I swiped a bowl of chips from the table and crossed to Dane and Wyatt.
Dane’s lips kicked up. “You’re back. And you’re bearing gifts.” He took a chip, stuffed it in his mouth, and then splayed his hand on my lower back; it felt like a claim. “I thought you’d gotten lost.”
“Ashley and Maggie were feeling chatty.” I tossed a chip into my mouth. “What are we talking about?”
“Fishing,” replied Wyatt.
Well, then I would not have much to contribute to the conversation. I mostly stayed silent as the two men talked, happy to simply listen and munch on the chips. At one point, Dane loosely curved his arm around my neck and gently tugged me closer. I leaned into him, hoping I looked as content and at ease as I needed to.
When Wyatt walked away to take a call, Dane and I found ourselves alone. Which was nice, because it gave me a short rest from acting. So I almost snarled when Heather came over.
“You’ll never guess who I saw a few days ago,” she said to me. “Owen. He was coming out of his aunt’s house. I would have gone over to say hi, but he left in a bit of a hurry.”
Owen wouldn’t have given her a second of his time. He loathed Heather with a passion.
“I spoke with his aunt a little,” Heather went on. “She said he’s getting divorced. Apparently, it was amicable at first, but then his soon-to-be-ex-wife turned all bitter. She and their daughter have gone to stay with her parents in Washington for a while. I’ll bet all this makes you feel better about him breaking off your engagement to go marry someone else. It didn’t work out so well for him, did it?” She gasped. “Oh, shit, you have already told Dane about Owen, haven’t you?”
I sensed she thought the answer was a resounding “no.” It wasn’t surprising that Heather had assumed I wouldn’t be forthcoming about my past. She judged people by her own standards, and she wasn’t exactly the most honest person when it came to relationships; she wouldn’t hesitate to hold back any detail that wouldn’t give her the advantage. “Yes, I have,” I told her, almost smiling when her act faltered for just a moment.
She faked a sigh of relief. “Oh, good—I was worried I might have said too much.” She looked at Dane. “It was such a terrible time for her. And to think he dumped her over the phone.”
“Yes, I heard.” Dane turned to fully face me and pulled me flush against him, drawing us into our own private cocoon to make her feel shut out. “But I’m glad he was dumb enough to let you go, or you wouldn’t now be mine.” He lifted one of my salt-covered fingers and sucked it into his mouth, licking away the salt; warmth bloomed low in my stomach. “Actually, that’s not entirely true,” he added. “I would have lured you away from him somehow.”
“I’m not so easily lured,” I said.
“But I would have managed it,” he assured me, pitching his voice low. “Because what do I always get?”
“What you want.”
“Exactly, baby girl.” He gently tapped the tip of my nose. “Never forget it,” he whispered.
Later on, when the temperature cooled and the sun began to set, people started making moves to leave. Nancy left first, swiftly followed by Ashley and Tucker. Simon left soon after.
Not wanting Melinda to have to tackle the clean-up job alone, I crossed to the patio table. “I’ll help you trash the left-over food and—” Something crashed into my back, sending me stumbling into the table. The wrought-iron edge dug painfully into my waist.
Worse, my weight made the table sharply tip up like a goddamn seesaw. Bowls and plates flipped and tipped over, and I found my front splattered with sauces, pasta, casserole, potato salad, spicy dips, and chocolate frosting.