Damon wrapped his arm around Abby’s hip. “You didn’t make my dish yet?”
“No, I didn’t get to. What do you want?” She grabbed his plate and a fork.
“Tsk, tsk, what kind of service is this?” He was pretending to joke but I could hear the menace in his tone.
I ground my teeth together and stared, waiting for her to put him in his place. I did this every time he spoke to her that way. But, like always, it never came. She continued to load up his dish, and Blake looked at me from the corner of his eye with his eyebrows raised. I merely shrugged and asked him what he’d like.
“I’ve got two hands, I can make it.” Blake scooped large helpings into his dish and took his seat beside me.
Damon’s cocky face seated across from me was enough to make me lose my appetite, but I was used to it. I’d spent many holidays this way—him licking his fork suggestively at me while his hand was on my sister’s knee. Fucking disgusting.
“So how’d you guys meet?” Damon directed his question at Blake, his fork motioning between the two of us.
“I harassed her life until she said yes. This little girl’s a tough cookie to tie down.” Blake patted my hand, a roguish smile playing on his lips.
“She is a tease, isn’t she?” And there was the menace again, seeping through his grin.
The hair on my arm prickled. Blake’s smile dipped at the corners and my mouth went dry as my eyes darted across the table.
“Damon! That’s not funny.” Abby backhanded his chest.
He laughed, recoiling from the blow. “What? She is.”
“I don’t find it funny either, Damon.” My usually unaffected father raised a brow.
Suddenly anxious, my knee began to bob up and down feverishly. Blake’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t lose his gentlemanly stature. He curled his fingers over the top of mine and squeezed, quelling my jitters.
“I’d hardly call her a tease.” He shrugged. “She just has high standards.” Then he lowered his voice and added, “You’re also lucky we’re at a dinner table, and that I’m meeting her parents for the first time.”
Wow. My cheeks grew warm hearing someone finally stick up for me to him. My dad’s gaze flicked to Blake and he opened and closed his mouth, seeming unsure of how he wanted to react to that statement.
Like a dog salivating over a bone, Damon was undeterred. His smile turned cocky at the challenge. “Bro, you have no idea how many guys she’s led on, making them think they had a shot with her. And she went out with not-a-one. Trust me. She’s a tease.” He popped a forkful in his mouth, chewing with a smirk.
At that my mother’s head snapped up.
I could tell Blake’s patience was waning but he was trying hard to keep it together in the presence of my family. He leaned forward as if to assert but also restrain himself. “You have no idea how well I know her, bro. I’m not intimidated by a girl who knows what she wants.” He brought my knuckles to his lips and kissed them. His expression softening as his eyes found mine. “I would’ve waited till I was old and gray if she wasn’t ready.”
My mom dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin and placed it back on her lap. “I don’t like this talk. We’re at the dinner table. Find your manners, Damon.”
Damon ignored her statement, which surprised me. He usually did a better job of looking like the golden child. His demeanor turned venomous as he squirmed to the edge of his seat. “Well, look at Blake being a regular Casanova.” He smiled, sarcasm oozing from each syllable.
My palms were growing sweaty at their exchange.
“I’m no Casanova. I’m a gentleman. I know how a lady is supposed to be treated. I could give you a few pointers some time when you’re ready, bro.” A twisted grin flashed across his face, and I tried my best to stifle a laugh. Blake forked a large bite of eggplant rollatini and stuffed it into his mouth.
Damon leaned back. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Blake. I was only kidding.”
Blake shook his head nonchalantly, swallowing. “They’re not in a bunch. I’m just clearing up whatever misconceptions you might have. Think of it as a formal education. Chivalry one-oh-one.” He stabbed his string beans and rested his forearms on the table. “And just so we’re clear, if you ever talk that way about Angel again, bunched up panties will be the least of your problems.”
Blake and Damon had a staring stand off and all hopes I’d had of enjoying Christmas Eve dinner went out the window. I was uncomfortable, but at the same time, my subconscious had her pom poms held high. Give me a B!
My dad’s voice boomed from the head of the table. “Okay, guys. That’s enough. Damon, you’ll watch your mouth. That’s my baby girl you’re talking about.”