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The Vault Box Set by Summers, Eden (63)

Chapter Three

“Family dinner?” She shot Dominic a scathing glance as they approached a familiar house. The curb on either side of the street was banked with cars. The driveway, too.

“I think she may be a little over excited.” He parked in the drive behind a shiny silver sports car and cut the ignition. “But it’s free food, right?”

There were no words. All she could do was glare.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” The laughter in his tone said otherwise. “I may have known there were a few additional people invited.”

“A few?” Savannah released her seatbelt and shoved open her car door. “The least you could’ve done was tell me to get changed.” She was still wearing her travel clothes—old comfortable jeans, her crushed blouse that was now hidden under a black suede coat, and a shimmery pink scarf she’d hoped would detract from her laziness.

It detracted nothing.

“I’m going to look like the homeless cousin stumbling to the doorstep for a free hand-out.”

“Don’t exaggerate.” He slammed his car door and rounded the hood. “You look fine. And besides, I wasn’t going to wait for an hour while you tried on a million outfits and plastered your face with make-up.”

“Now who’s exaggerating?” She walked backward, shooting daggers at him as she approached the single-story brick building. “Just remember payback’s a bitch.”

“And so are you, my sweet cousin.”

He was a jerk, but gosh, she’d missed him. The banter and the fun. The laughter and the snarcasm.

She swung around to the house to hide her smile and bounced up the three stairs toward the front door. Movement nudged her periphery and she slowed, taking in the sight of a man standing in the shadows at the far end of the porch. His hip was cocked against the banister, his eyes hooded.

Her concentration latched on to him, unmoving as the world around her dulled to a faint hum in her mind. She wasn’t sure what intrigued her. It could be his narrowed stare, the way he didn’t greet her with warmth or kindness. Only sterile appraisal. Or maybe it was the package his arrogance came in—the tense expression, stubbled jaw, and lush lips pressed in a tight line.

Her tongue tingled. Mouth salivated. She would’ve liked to think it was due to the heavenly aroma of her aunt’s cooking drifting in the air. Would’ve liked to…but that was a load of bull.

“Hi.” She gave him a friendly finger wave as Dominic came up behind her.

The man continued to stare, his face still unwelcoming in the shadows.

“Keenan, don’t be a prick.” Dominic tugged on her arm, stealing her attention. “Come on. I’ll introduce you later.”

She kept her focus on the stranger, their gazes entwined, hers soft and inquisitive, his harsh and fierce, as her cousin dragged her inside, the door slamming shut behind them. “Who was

“Oh, my sweet Savannah!” Aunt Michelle hustled up the hall, wiping her hands on an old apron tied around her waist. “It’s so good to see you.”

The familiar face held more wrinkles than Savannah remembered, her aunt’s long blonde hair now gray and thinning. But the beautiful blue eyes were still the same—loving and gentle.

“It’s good to see you, too.” She ignored the strangers poking their heads into the hall from different doorways and fell into a comforting embrace. “Thank you for the dinner invitation.”

“Oh, please,” her aunt chastised. “You don’t need an invitation. Come around any time.”

There was a whirlwind of introductions. Her aunt took position on her right, gushing with affection and compliments, while Dominic remained on her left, muttering snide comments that threatened to make her laugh.

A timer dinged from the kitchen, a welcome reprieve as her aunt excused herself and left Savannah to take a breath. There had to be twenty people crammed into the small house. All of them smiling and friendly, unlike the man outside who still lingered in her thoughts.

“You want a drink?” Dominic nudged her elbow.

Hell yes. “Please.” She followed him to the back of the house, into the laundry, and toward a fridge stocked full of beer, wine, and pre-mixed drinks.

“Help yourself.”

He held the door open while she grabbed a small bottle of something red and no doubt comatosingly sweet. “Thanks.”

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom.” He closed the fridge door and looked at her in concern. “Can you survive for a few minutes without me?”

“I guess I’ll have to. I’m not going to follow you to the toilet.”

Obviously,” he drawled. “You gave up that opportunity when we were eight.”

Twelve.”

“Ten.” He chuckled and walked from the room, leaving her alone with the hovering threat of chatter from the other end of the house.

It was time to go incognito. She didn’t have the energy to smile at strangers. Alcohol would help, but for now, she needed cool fresh air…and maybe another glimpse at the menacing eyes of the man she’d met on the porch.

She shoved the bottle into her coat pocket and sauntered down the hall, measuring her steps to lessen the clap of her heels. She reached the front door without notice and pulled it open, slipping into the darkness of twilight without a word.

The man was still at the end of the porch, a beer bottle now visible in his hand as he leaned over, resting his elbows on the banister. He didn’t acknowledge her presence. She supposed a man with arrogance ebbing off him in waves didn’t have to. His dismissal gave her the opportunity to appreciate his ass stretched in well-worn jeans and the perfection of how his black jacket rested at his hips to give her an unhindered view.

“Hi,” she offered for a second time.

He didn’t move, didn’t even spare her a glance as she approached the banister. He continued staring straight ahead as he lifted the beer bottle to his lips and took a long pull.

“It’s a lovely night for a family dinner.” Was he a distant relative? God, she hoped not, otherwise Dominic’s inbred tendencies were rubbing off on her.

He replied with a jut of his chin. A jut of his God. Damn. Chin.

What an asshole. And wasn’t she just the stupidest set of ovaries to walk the earth, because it only made her itch to push his blatant need for solitude, to poke at him with questions until he acknowledged her with the respect she deserved. The respect any human deserved.

“So… you like beer…” she drawled, glib as hell.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he continued to focus on the street. But still, no answer.

She could smell him, could practically taste his delicious aftershave on her tongue with each inhalation. He was a taunt to all her senses…well, except her ears because the pretentious ass wouldn’t say a word.

He took another swig from his bottle and straightened to face her. She could see his eyes now, the steely silver, almost blue, that made her shiver with their ferocity. He was tall, too. At least an inch above her even with her heels.

She pulled the pre-mix bottle from her jacket pocket and twisted the lid to keep her hands busy. She could see two outcomes eventuating. Either he would smile, knocking her off her feet with the brilliance of his appeal. Or he was going to pull a gun from the inside of his jacket and blow her brains out.

Player or gangster. He could totally pull off both.

“I’m usually a wine drinker myself.” She raised the bottle of bubbly red liquid in her hand, slowly tilting it to her mouth. She took a sip, licked the alcohol from her lips in a deliberately seductive provocation, then lowered the bottle again.

Still, he gave her nothing. Noth-ing. He was the most accomplished jerk she’d ever come across, and yet she still couldn’t ditch the intrigue and walk away. Without a word, he had her tied around his little finger, begging for attention.

“I like your jeans.” She ogled his crotch, wanting to return the discomfort of how humiliating this one-sided conversation was becoming. “They’re snug.”

His lips quirked, giving her a glimpse of straight white teeth. Asshole. Asshole. Ass-hole! He was gorgeous, the faintest hint of humor turning his dangerous eyes playful. She lifted the bottle to her mouth again, this time ignoring any pretense of seduction as she gulped at the liquid.

“Are you always this charm

The front door creaked open and she turned to find Dominic eying them both skeptically. “What’s going on?”

She smiled, the biggest, fakest smile she had in her arsenal. “I’m having an in-depth conversation with this lovely gentleman.”

“Really?” Dominic frowned, his brows pulling deeper with every passing second.

“Yep.” There was gushing amounts of sarcasm in her tone. “First we conversed about our drinking habits, then fashion. I was about to bring up the topic of politics and world peace when you rudely interrupted.”

She glanced at the man in the corner, an arrogant smirk now curving those sensuous lips. He wasn’t the only one capable of being a jerk.

“Well, that’s strange…” Dominic came closer. “Because Keenan doesn’t talk.”

It was her turn to frown. “What do you mean?” Her skin prickled with goosebumps as the weight of both their attention focused on her.

“I mean, Keenan doesn’t talk.” Dominic shot his friend a questioning look, but she was too focused on her cousin and shocked from his words to bother with the silent stranger’s response. “At all.”

Keenan cleared his throat. It was deep and gravel-rich, demanding her attention. When she turned to him, he raised a brow, throwing the rudeness she’d been wordlessly accusing him of right back in her face.

The muted accusation sent a shiver of unwelcome stupidity down her spine. She became uncomfortable in her own skin. Ashamed. But who the hell did he think he was? Just because he couldn’t, or didn’t want to, speak didn’t mean he lacked the skills to communicate his inability.

“Oh.” She smiled sweetly. “That clears things up.” She turned her attention to Dominic. “I thought he was just an asshole.”

Her cousin snorted. “Don’t worry, he is.” He bridged the distance between them and flung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. “Savvy, this is Keenan. He’s practically family. And Kee, this is Savvy, she actually is family, so stop being a prick and treat her nice.”

Her throat tightened and the moisture coating her mouth evaporated. Keenan stood there, taking another long pull of his beer, suave as hell, before placing it down on the banister and holding out a hand.

She could already sense the exhilaration his touch would ignite. Her arm was tingling, all the way down to her palm and through her fingers. She stepped forward, sliding her hand into his, and tried to appear unfazed by the jolt that followed the brush of their skin. His mouth was mesmerizing. Both lips equally lush and soft. She wondered what he would look like when he smiled. A full, beaming smile. Would his eyes light up? Would the dark mysteriousness wash away?

“So you don’t talk?” She pulled her hand back even though a little part of her wanted to keep the connection.

He shook his head. Once. Stilted.

He definitely didn’t overcompensate for his lack of speech. Everything he did was calm and controlled—a jerk of his chin, a curve of his lips, a tilt of his head. The asshole knew he was intriguing. It was probably his calling card.

“Then how did the two of you become close?”

“Why don’t we talk about this later?” Dominic pulled on the crook of her arm. “It’s time for dinner.”

“What about Penny?”

Dominic winced. “Now, don’t get mad…”

Too late. “She isn’t coming, is she?”

He shook his head. “She won’t finish work for hours.”

Savannah slid her tongue along the edge of her teeth, feigning annoyance even though she was relieved at not having to deal with the wicked bitch of the north. “You realize you owe me, right?”

He inclined his head and made for the front door. “I’ll make it up to you next weekend.”

“Next weekend?” She sauntered after him, sensing the silent stranger a few paces behind her, his presence making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

“We’ll discuss it later.” He held open the door, allowing the rush of chatter and laughter from inside to echo into the front yard. “Let’s get through dinner first.”

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