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She shouldn't.

Not here.

Not with me.

I move first, guiding her forward with a hand at her lower back, light but deliberate. She stiffens for a fraction of a second, then exhales, like her body is learning me whether she wants it to or not.

"Come," I invite.

Stacy looks up immediately, her face lights in a way that would be almost genuine if I didn't see the calculation behind it.

"There you are," she greets her daughter, her tone implying that we've kept her waiting instead of giving her exactly the stage she wants. "Esther and I were just talking about, well, everything, really."

Thank fuck Esther is paid well enough to keep her mouth shut about anything that might be divulged during those conversations; she's also smart enough to understand what kind of people she works for. She's been in the business long enough that her reputation is excellent, and no complaint has ever been filed, which in our world wouldn't be broadcast on Google, but would be a trip to the desert somewhere, rotting and forgotten.

"I'm sure you were," I reply evenly.

Esther's eyes flick to me, sharp and knowing, and there's a hint of amusement there. She sees the dynamic already. She won't underestimate Stacy.

"I've been enjoying Stacy's company very much," she states smoothly.

Stacy laughs again, pleased. A small smile plays along Audra's lips. I pull out her chair and watch as she sits down, before taking the seat beside her. It feels right in a way that unsettles me. Something is clicking into place that I didn't know was missing.

I pour her a glass of sparkling water, the kind I know she likes, before she can reach for it herself. She notices. I see it in the slight flicker of her eyes, the way her lips part, like she's about to say something, then doesn't.

Dinner moves easily on the surface. Plates are set down, conversation flows, Stacy fills every silence, probably afraid of what might crawl out of it if she doesn't.

"…and then we had to leave everything behind, of course," she's recapping, shaking her head, lifting her wine. "You can't imagine the stress. I told Audra, we need stability, we need?—"

"And here you are," I cut in, turning to Audra, "Are you feeling okay?"

Audra's fork hovers over her plate. She hasn't taken a bite. I watch her instead of my food, tracking every small movement. The way her fingers tighten. The way her shoulders shift every time Stacy says too much. She nods. "I'm better now. Yes. Thank you."

It's not much, but I take it. My hand moves under the table before I think about it. I rest it lightly against her thigh. She goes still, but I hear the sharp intake of breath she tries to hide. I feel everything through that single point of contact, the tension, the heat, the confusion. Mine. All of it.

She doesn't move my hand away. That matters more than anything she could say. I let my thumb shift once, slow, grounding, claiming without pressure. Across the table, Stacy is oblivious to the nuances and completely tuned in to the outcome.

"You've been very generous," she compliments, turning her attention back to me. "Everything you've done for us, it means more than you know."

I meet her gaze briefly, then let my eyes drift back to Audra. My hand tightens a fraction, anchoring her in place. She doesn't pull away. Instead, her shoulder brushes mine. Something low and dark settles deeper in my chest. This is where she fits. At my side. Within reach. Where I can see her. Protect her. Control the chaos that keeps trying to take her from me.

I glance down at her again, slower this time, letting myself take in the details I've been denying myself for the time she's been gone. The way her hair falls loose around her face. The faint shadows under her eyes. The stubborn set of her mouth. Thereis no scenario where I can deny myself her company ever again. Like it or not. She's mine.

I lift my glass, my gaze still on her. "To being exactly where we should be."

Stacy echoes the toast immediately, bright and eager. Esther follows with a smile. "To good company."

But it's Audra I watch. Always her. She lifts her glass too. And when it touches mine, soft and unsteady, it feels like a promise.

Mom and Estherleave shortly after dessert to go to their rooms, leaving Gabe and me alone. Suddenly, I feel a bit out of sorts.

"So…" I drift off, unsure of what to say or do next.

"Let me make this easy for you." Gabe leans forward, takes my chin into his hand, and lifts it up. His mouth is only inches from mine.

I have barely enough time to register the increase in my heart rate, the fluttering in my stomach spreading through my entire vascular system, before his lips claim mine. And God. It feels good. So freaking good, and so freaking right.

I shouldn't…the thought dissolves without any resistance the moment one of his hands moves underneath my dress, his warm skin on mine sending tremors through me. Tremors that increase a deep desire to be as close to him as possible.My grabby hand moves into his thick hair and buries itself in between his strands, while the other curls against one of his biceps and holds on for dear life. I can feel the way his muscles move and shift under his skin, and fuck, there is nothing sexier than this. His muscles are rock-hard, just like him.