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She holds my gaze from the other end of the table, deciding if this is the fight she wants to pick tonight.

It’s not. She stands, pulls the chair out hard enough to scrape the floor, and drops into the seat to next to mine at the head of the table. She smells like vanilla. It hits me the second she’s close enough, and I want to press my face against her neck and find out if she tastes like vanilla too. I want to lick the spot below her ear and see if she moans the way I think she would.

Goddamnit. I need to get my head out of my ass.

“Happy now?”

That brat attitude makes my cock throb. “Getting closer.”

I nod to the staff member near the doorway, and plates are set in front of us. She stares at hers and doesn’t pick up her fork.

I take my first bite and wait a few moments to see what she is going to do. She still doesn’t touch her food.

“Eat, Laine.”

“I’m not fucking hungry.”

She’s full of shit. She hasn’t eaten all day, but she is choosing this as her hill to die on because it’s the one thing she thinks she can still control. She’s going to be disappointed though. I’m not going to let her starve herself, and I’m not going to let her control a goddamn thing in my house.

“I didn’t ask if you were hungry. I told you to eat.”

She glares at me. “So is this what my life looks like until Ryker gets home? You ordering me around?”

“When he gets home, we’ll both order you around, baby.”

She picks up her water glass but still won’t touch the plate. “Don’t you have a wife to occupy you? What would she think about you taking a fucked-up interest in your son’s fiancée?”

The question makes me grit my teeth. My hand stills on my fork, and the air in the room changes. I can tell she feels it because her bratty expression falters for half a second.

“No.” I pick up my glass and take a drink because I need to do something with my hands that isn’t wrapping them around her throat. “I don’t. She died a long time ago.”

And that’s all I have to fucking say on the topic. I don’t talk about her. Not with anyone. Not ever. Ryker and I buried that shit a long time ago, and that’s where it stays.

She’s quiet for a moment, and I can see her deciding whether to push. The little brat should keep her fucking mouth shut.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is softer than before. “That must have been hard on Ryker. Growing up without his mom. I know it was hard when my mom died.”

There is real pain in her voice, but I don’t want to fucking talk about the darkest places of our mutual pasts. Ryker and I have moved on. There’s no point in dredging it back up. Talking won’t change any of it, and the same goes for her.

“Ryker is perfectly content. I raised him, and he turned out fine.” I set my glass down. “Now eat your fucking dinner.”

She stares at me for another second as her eyes narrow and her nostrils flare. Then the brat attitude is back in full force.

“No.” She pushes the plate away. “You can put me in your house, dress me in your clothes, and sit me in whatever fucking chair you want. But you don’t get to shove food down my throat.”

I want to grab her by the throat and bend her over this table and spank her until she stops running her mouth. I want to shove my cock between those bratty lips and watch the tears on her cheeks while she gags on me. She’d be so fucking pretty with drool on her chin and my dick down her throat.

Instead I set my fork down. “I get to do whatever the fuck I want. And you will come to accept that, the easy way or the hard way.”

“Is that what you say to all the girls?” She tilts her head and gives me that bratty fucking smile. “Given that you’re here alone with me on a Friday night, how’s that working out for you?”

I stare at her, daring her to open her fucking mouth again.

For half a second, she looks like she might take it back. Then the brat wins, because it always does with this girl, and her chin lifts.

“What are you going to do about it, Rhett? Grab me by the throat again?” Her voice drops. “Or spank me?”

That’s it. I push back from the table and stand. Her throat moves when she swallows. She knows she pushed too far. She’s got a smart mouth, and she knows exactly what it does to me. I’m done letting her think she’s the one running this.