Page 140 of His Reckoning

The table laughs.

Sawyer glares at me. “Wow.”

Hudson smirks. “She’s got jokes. I like her.”

Luigi claps once. “All right, enough.”

Menus are pushed around the table while wine gets poured.

Everyone starts talking again. I can still feel several pairs of eyes occasionally drifting back toward me, like they’re trying to figure out exactly what my presence here means.

And honestly?

So am I.

Food starts arriving almost immediately. Huge bowls of pasta and platters of bread.

Someone passes a bottle of wine down the table, and Chase pours it generously into everyone’s glass, like this is a regular Tuesday, which, apparently, it is.

Conversation erupts again the second the first plate hits the table.

Hudson reaches across and steals a piece of bread from Cole’s plate.

Cole swats his hand away. “You have your own.”

“Yours looked better.”

Brooklyn laughs. “It’s literally the same bread.”

Livia leans across the table toward me. “So,” she says, “tell me about yourself.”

Sawyer groans quietly across from me. “Livia?—”

“What?” she says, not even looking at him. “If she’s living with you, I’m allowed to ask questions.”

“She’s not living with me,” Sawyer says.

“Temporary roommates,” Cole reminds everyone cheerfully.

Chase grins. “That still feels suspicious.”

I take a sip of wine. “I’m a writer.”

Several heads turn.

“A writer?” Lucia says warmly. “What do you write?”

“Romance.”

Brooklyn nearly chokes on her wine. “Oh, this just got better.”

Hudson laughs under his breath. “So, you write about men like Sawyer?”

“Not usually,” I say.

“Too cold?” Chase asks.

“Too rich,” I correct.