Addiction

Chapter 16-2

“MRS. CASTLE. MR. CASTLE. This way please. Some of your party have already arrived and we took the liberty of seating them.” The elegant young man with shiny black hair and a dimple on both cheeks bid them forward with an engaging smile. “Ah,” he exclaimed. “Is this the birthday girl? Sophia, isn't it?”

“Sophie,” Logan grated, his eyes narrowed and mean. Sophie felt like laughing, her stomach a jumble of nerves.

“Sophie, of course, how could I forget?” he apologized with a graceful nod. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

Seeing as she wasn't yet twenty-one, Sophie ordered a coke, and settled herself next to Taylor, while Logan seated himself on her opposite side. Wonderful. She'd be craning her neck all night in order to speak to them both. Her mom and Harry sat directly across from the three of them with Serena and her date, Michael, sitting to their left. One big, happy family, Sophie thought in discomfort.

Half-way through the first course – escargot for her, of course – she laughed under her breath when Logan leaned in and asked her to mind her snails this time around. No fear of a repeat, however, since she had a death grip on both the shell and the meat inside. But pulling forcefully to remove said meat, she elbowed the table, sending her dinner-fork flying. It landed deep in the carpet, standing on its prongs, not an inch from Logan's foot.

With a rueful expression, he tucked both feet under his chair as Sophie reached down to retrieve her errant silverware. Taylor, deep in discussion with Harry about accounts, didn't notice the absence of her upper half, and nudged her carelessly. With a soft yip, she spilled sideways out of her chair. The only thing saving her was Logan's death-grip on her ribs – perilously close to her breast – and her grip on his thigh – dangerously close to his groin.

With her face shining like a beacon, and Taylor apologizing profusely, she snatched at her fork and sat up, breathing out in a huff. Her mom laughed and Harry shifted in his seat, sending Logan a death stare, to which Logan replied with a shrug. Breathlessly, she realized her stepbrother's hand was still skimming her side in slow motion beneath the view of the table.

Down her ribs it tickled, to sweep the curve of her waist, his fingers tripping over her hip before drifting away to land on his lap, covering his groin. The groin she'd almost grabbed a handful of moments before. Nervous laughter bubbled out from her lips as her mom frowned in thought, watching her. Watching him. Watching them, closely.

“You're dangerous with those snails, sis,” Logan told her, breaking her eye contact with her mom so that the moment and the tension seemed to diffuse. “Let's say you order the salad from now on.”

“Not the soup?”

“Definitely not the soup. Snails and near-stabbings, I can just about deal with. Scaldings, I cannot.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling the way she liked, and his perfect teeth on show – really on show – for the first time in forever.

“Salad it is,” she replied, her own laugh tripping from her tongue. “From now on.”

“What's this?” her mother inquired, obviously cottoning on to the fact that she'd missed something.

Serena snickered, hiding her grin behind her napkin, while Michael stretched an arm across her shoulders. They were such a cute couple.

“This is not the only time Soph has attacked me with snails.”

“That's not fair!” she exclaimed. “That first time was a complete accident.”

“Accident?” he asked, raising a dark brow. “You mean you meant to almost stab me just there?”

She snorted with laughter. “Yup. We're brother and sister. It's how we're supposed to act.”

With a speculative gleam in her eye, Marie asked, “first time?”

While Sophie deteriorated into belly laughs, Logan told her mom and Harry about how they had first met at the wedding reception. “I swear that she already knew who I was somehow and decided to take me down. Death by escargot.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake.” She slapped him on the shoulder, feeling the muscles beneath his dinner-jacket barely give at all. “I didn't know you. But if I had...” she trailed off, deliberately smirking.

“I see how it is,” he replied with a gleam in his eye. They both stared at each other for a moment.

Harry cleared his throat noisily. “So Taylor,” he stressed the name, reminding Sophie of who she was actually dating. “Tell your dad I'll happily call 'round tomorrow evening, and we can go over the books.”

“That would be great, Mr. Castle. My dad is good at many things, but book-keeping isn't one of them.” He laughed awkwardly as Sophie redirected her gaze to his. Guilt wrapped her up in its gossamer threads. She had to get a grip on herself.

*

* * * *