When Lawson speaks, I swear I can not only hear it, but practically see the smugness dripping from his words. “It’s progressed to you not being able to keep your eyes off her, huh? Watching her like you’re her bodyguard?”
He pauses and—I shit you not—starts belting out one of the Whitney Houston songs from the movie The Bodyguard. Everyone pauses briefly to toss curious glances our way before resuming their conversations because they’re used to this—used to Laws being a damn fruitcake. Somehow, he gets away with it, though. Because, deep down, he’s just a good guy with an equally good heart.
Who just so happens to be a joking fool, too.
I wait until he’s finished with his little serenade. “That was touching.”
His lips stretch even wider. “I knew you’d like it.” Then he leans in closer to whisper conspiratorially, “You’re ready to challenge Lee to win my heart now, right? It’s okay to confess, Fos.”
See what I mean? He never quits. But the thing is, he reminds me a lot of Hendy and right now I’m missing the big SOB something fierce. So I do something I don’t normally do. Turning away to let my eyes scan the room casually, still keeping Kane’s damn arm in my sights, I mutter, “Yeah, yeah. Maybe.”
Instead of getting a rapid, quirky response from Laws, all I get is silence. Which is not normal from him. Our conversation is weird enough to have me turning back to him to make sure he’s actually all right.
I promptly find him staring at me with an intensity I’ve not seen in him before. At least not whenever he looks at me. It’s actually quite unnerving the way he’s eyeing me, as if he can see into my head, see my thoughts.
Suddenly, his face transforms, and he’s got the brightest smile I think I’ve ever seen him have for me before he pulls me into a quick bear hug. A hug I’m not returning because, well … I just don’t do hugs.
Thank God it’s a quick one because as soon as he releases me, his voice is lowered so he’s not overheard. “You let me know when you need some advice on how to win her over. Because I’ve got lots of winning methods. The love fern, serenading her, sonnets, flowers, quoting Yoda from Star Wars, and many more.” He slaps my shoulder with a nod and walks off to likely find Lee. And for the millionth time I’m wondering how in the hell he managed to land the former combat pararescue jumper, his fiancée, who is decidedly very normal.
Just as my mother calls out that it’s time to eat dinner, it dawns on me what just happened, and I realize how much trouble I’m in. Because if Lawson Briggs can tell how I feel about Noelle and he isn’t a highly trained former Special Ops guy, then that means two things.
One, I’ve been way too damn obvious about my attraction to her. And two, I’m screwed because if Lawson knows, that means everyone knows.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Noelle
As we’re eating dinner, Foster reaches for his phone and reads what appears to be a text message. When he raises his head, his eyes find mine. “Ty just said they managed to get prints and they’re running them through the system.”
“Prince?” Lawson instantly pipes up. “Oooh, was he singing about a ‘Raspberry Beret’?”
Collective groans sound—per the usual when it comes to Lawson—but I know, deep down, everyone adores him. This group of friends are all unique in their personalities, that’s for sure. But it’s evident they would do anything for one another. There is such dedication, respect, and love blanketing these friends—like nothing I have ever experienced.
Oh, and did I mention the harassment? Because that’s also a huge component when it comes to this bunch. As becomes evident within mere minutes of being in their presence.
“Hey, Kane,” Lawson asks casually—far too casually, actually—as he spoons more pasta aglio e olio onto his plate. “I don’t know if you knew this or not, but Foster’s favorite Christmas song is actually ‘The First Noel.’” His cocky grin is wide and toothy as he eyes Foster. He loves to push his buttons, that’s for certain.
My eyes volley from Laws to Kane to Foster. Foster’s jaw is clenched tight, so tight I notice the slight tic in it. Turning my eyes to my plate, I fork some pasta into my mouth in an attempt to resist smiling.
The First Noel, huh? Nice touch, Laws.
“Now that we’re on the topic of his favorite things, I know for a fact that he absolutely loves the actress, Geena Davis.” Kane’s evidently enjoying jumping on the let’s harass Foster bandwagon.
“His favorite song is ‘Bette Davis eyes,’” Lawson offers proudly before I hear him exclaim, “Ow!” My head jerks up in time to see Lawson wiping his left eye with his napkin, the trail of aglio e olio sauce dripping down his cheek. Glancing over in Foster’s direction, I see him eyeing Laws.
Hard.
“My bad. Must’ve gotten away from me, man.” Forking pasta into his mouth, he begins chewing, eyes flashing dangerously.