Here, she dug in her heels. “I don’t need them.”
“But if you found that —”
“I don’t need them and I’d prefer to not have them.” Her voice lowered. “If I have any say in it.” I didn’t miss her innuendo, the insinuation that his care now wasn’t unlike the time she’d spent here as his captive.
She’d hit him below the belt. He’d told me that had been the worst of him, that “keeping” her had been the worst thing he’d done.
I saw the struggle within him. Felt it, even. He hated to lose, and, wanting to show him I understood, I lowered my hand to cover his on my thigh.
But he pulled his hand away. Meeting her eyes, he set down the reins. “If that’s what you’d prefer.”
“It is.” She beamed triumphantly. Then, looking down at her plate for the first time, she said, “Meat and potatoes. Of course.” Her disdain was evident.
To my left, Joe’s leg bounced up and down nervously. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who felt the tension. I wondered if my unease was as obvious as his.
“The asparagus is perfect,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
As though I hadn’t spoken, Reeve said tersely, “The potatoes were for you, Amber. Jeb said soft and bland for your diet. If you prefer, I can have some soup brought up.”
“Potatoes are fine. Thanks.” She said it as if this were her concession. She refused to be hovered over, but she’d allow him to choose her menu.
I imagined it was the way they’d been when they were together – constantly butting heads while she fought for her independence and he demanded the right to attend to her needs. That had always been the difference between her and I – she saw that sort of attention as stifling where as I’d found submission to be freeing.
But maybe Reeve enjoyed the challenge. Maybe I was too easily subdued. Wouldn’t it be more of a victory to top someone who refused to be topped?
I finished off my wine and signaled for the server to bring me another glass. My alcohol content wasn’t being monitored, thank goodness. Maybe if I had enough of it, I could drown the twin beasts of envy and insecurity that lived inside me, or, at least, lull them both to sleep.
We fell into a silence that was not at all comfortable but a hundred times preferable to the conversation that had taken place. Amber picked at her food, ignoring the steak altogether and barely making a dent in her potatoes.
Eventually, she sat back in her chair and sighed as she looked out through the deck railings to the ground below. “You got a dog?”
I followed her line of vision to see the scraggly black Lab that I’d seen around the ranch since I’d arrived. “Jenkins,” I said, recalling the name Brent had used. “Isn’t he a stray?” Not that I cared much about the dog, but it was a far safer topic of discussion than the previous one.
Reeve nodded. “He’s hung around the last few weeks. I’m pretty sure Parker’s feeding him even though he says he isn’t.”
“Parker.” Amber waited until she caught my eye. “Have you met him, Em?”
“I have.” I remembered the drunken references Parker had made to me about Amber one night. He’d referred to her as a pain in the ass and a bunch of trouble.
He’d also been in the stable when Reeve had stripped me of my clothing and bridled me like a horse. I bit back a smile at the memory.
Amber’s face lit up with a naughty gleam, and I suddenly realized she had memories of her own.
Before I could wonder too long, Reeve clarified. “Emily doesn’t know him like you know him.”
It had been obvious in the stable that sometimes Reeve had shared his women with Parker. I’d felt pride that he hadn’t wanted to share me.
Now, as it became clear that Reeve had shared Amber, I felt sick with jealousy. “Oh. No. I don’t know him like that.”
At least Reeve had helped keep my cover, his words shielding me from her speculation about us without being dishonest. I told myself I was, but with as much as he’d withdrawn since Amber joined us, I had to wonder if his discretion had anything to do with me.
It was also possible I was overthinking the situation.
More wine. That’s what I needed. Clearly.
Amber laughed. “Well. Anyway.” She chuckled again as she sat forward to put a spoonful of food in her mouth. “Good potatoes.”
I concentrated on finishing my meal, focusing on the mechanics of eating, thoroughly chewing each bite before swallowing. It was tempting to race through so I could excuse myself and run away from the awful awkwardness. Thankfully, the silence resumed, but it stretched so taut I feared it would create a perilous chasm when it finally broke. A chasm that would consume me entirely.
I’d just set down my fork when Amber jutted out her chin and declared, “I have something to say.” She cleared her throat. “This might not be the best moment for this, but who knows when I’ll be feeling this good again, and with your busy schedule, Reeve, it might be the only chance I get.”
I bristled at her use of his name, as if it were mine to use and she had no right to it. Which of course was ridiculous.
Reeve placed his napkin over his empty plate and cocked his head. “I’m listening.”
“I want to say that…” Her lip quivered, and it hit me that she was nervous, that she’d been nervous through the entire meal. And why wouldn’t she be? This was the first time she’d spent any time with her former love at length.
She cleared her throat again, then plunged forward with slightly more confidence. “I want to say I’m sorry for how I left things between us.” She paused, and my pulse jolted up in speed. “And about how I reacted. Running to Micha—to Michelis – was one of the worst decisions I’ve made in my life, and I’ve made quite a few. But I deserve what he —”