Of course, they had to travel down memory lane and remind him of all those things he did as a kid. Out of respect, he listened and did very little talking. Not that they seemed to notice, since they were the ones keeping the conversation going.
“Is it true what we heard about you?” Mrs. Owens leaned in to ask. He snapped back to attention. He’d been distracted when he noticed Jules was no longer talking to Shana but was now engaged in conversation with some man. Who was that guy? In fact, who were all these people here tonight?
He smiled down at Helen Owens. “It depends on what you heard.”
“That you’re more of a ladies’ man than either of your brothers.”
He wondered where the hell she’d been living, since that had always been the case. “Yes, I guess that’s true,” he said, trying to keep his smile in place.
“What about you?” Harold Owens then asked. “Marriage in your future plans?”
Dalton had to bite his lip to keep from saying, Hell, no. Triple hell, no. Instead, in a respectful tone, he said, “No, sir. Marriage is not in my future plans.” Then, making an excuse about needing to talk to Shana, he quickly moved on.
*
Shana watched her brother-in-law head over in her direction as if he had fire under his feet. She wondered what his problem was, but with Dalton you could never tell. The reason his features appeared all too serious couldn’t be because Jules was here. He’d known she would be. In fact, it was his presence that was a surprise.
She glanced past him to where her husband stood, talking to a group of people. Their gazes connected, and Jace shrugged broad shoulders, letting her know he had no idea what was going on with his brother. That meant it was up to her to find out.
“Shana,” Dalton said, giving her a hug.
“Dalton. Glad you changed your mind and decided to come.”
He nodded, taking a sip of whatever he was drinking while glancing around. “Nice crowd.”
“Thanks.”
“Who are these people, anyway?” he asked, frowning.
She countered his frown with a smile. “A mixture of family, friends and both my business associates and Jace’s. And, of course, you have those who took it upon themselves to bring a guest. So there are a few people here Jace and I don’t even know.”
Dalton’s frown deepened. “Considering everything, do you think that’s wise?”
She smiled. “We’re safe if that’s why you’re asking. I’m in a house with two ex-cops, two bodyguards and an FBI agent.” The FBI agent she was referring to was Marcel Eaton, an ex-cop turned federal agent who had worked with her dad in Boston. Marcel, who had also moved to Charlottesville from Boston, had been the agent who handled the Granger Aeronautics trade secrets violations and embezzlement a few months ago when four arrests were made. More currently, he was investigating a Granger Aeronautics employee, whose death by suicide was now suspect.
“Quasar and Striker are here?” Dalton asked, glancing around again.
“Yes. They thought it would be best if they worked the party from the inside while Stonewall kept a watch on the outside. There they are, coming in off the patio.”
Dalton turned, saw the two men in business suits, and chuckled. “Hey, they’re blending in well.”
“I think so, too.”
Dalton’s gaze raked over her. “You’re beginning to look pregnant.”
Was that censure she heard in his voice? Shana held back a laugh. “I look pregnant because I am pregnant. It was going to happen sooner or later, Dalton.”
“Yes, I suppose,” he said, as if he wasn’t truly convinced. He glanced around again. “So where is Jules?”
Shana considered his question and couldn’t help pondering the reason for it. “Mingling somewhere, I suppose. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
Shana saw the flash of a smile that touched his lips and wondered whether there was a private joke. “Jules is surprised you came tonight when you said you wouldn’t,” she said, watching him closely. “And to be quite honest, so am I.”