“Yeah.” He smiles softly. “I can.”

“Good.” And just like that, hand in hand, we head toward the group.

Once we arrive, the group is directed by a guide down to the wine cellar where dinner has been set up for us. Old stone walls surround the dimly lit space as well as barrels and barrels of wine stacked one right on top of the other. A long table stretches out in the middle of the room with ten place settings beautifully set up with multiple wineglasses rimmed in gold, sage serviettes, and cream napkins. Twigs, eucalyptus, and votive candles decorate the length of the table while bulbed lights are strung from the curved tunnel-like ceiling.

It’s breathtaking.

Name cards have been set at every place setting, so Ryot and I find ours at the end of the table, right next to Banner and Breaker—JP and Huxley’s younger brother. Ryot pulls my chair out for me and then gently helps me scoot in.

When he takes a seat next to me, his hand falls to my thigh, like it did the night JP and Huxley came to visit our house. But this time, he’s sitting much closer so our shoulders are brushing together.

“Comfortable?” he asks me.

“Yeah,” I answer softly.

His mouth is right next to my ear as he says, “Having fun, right?”

“Right,” I whisper.

His hand slides toward my inner thigh. “All the fucking fun.”

An unexpected giggle pops out of me as I whisper back, “Not too much fun.”

He grumbles but doesn’t remove his hand. Rather, he just grips me tightly, claiming me like he used to before things started to change between us. It feels like he’s marking me all over again.

This is my girl, no one else’s.

Trying to distract myself from the feel of his warm palm on my thigh, I ask, “Who are some of these people?”

“I think the couple at the end is Kelsey and Lottie’s mom and stepdad.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense.” I glance around the room. “This is really nice. Like, I almost feel not dressed up enough.”

He leans in close, his mouth nearly kissing my ear as he says, “You look perfect, Myla.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, feeling incredibly insecure for some reason.

Probably because I know that this is only temporary, and I’m trying to fit into a crowd that I really don’t belong in.

“Positive, babe,” he says, the nickname slipping with ease past his lips.

Across the table, Lottie leans forward. “Myla, those earrings, I need to know where they’re from because I’m in love.”

Smiling, I touch the long, knotted strands and say, “Ryot got them for me for my birthday one year. You’re going to have to take up your inquisition with him.”

Lottie turns to Ryot. “Please tell me you remember.”

Ryot smooths his hand toward my inner thigh, causing my muscles to twitch against the subtle touch. “A jeweler friend of mine. I’ll send the info over to Huxley.”