“My hands are fine.”

Brian’s frosty demeanor thawed marginally as he observed Lyndon eating unaided.

Yet, his gaze lingered on Lyndon, vigilant against any sign he might seek Rosalynn’s aid.

Lyndon sampled the congee and remarked leisurely, “Mr. Hughes, I’ve declared my orientation. Your looks of affection are unwarranted.”

Dumbfounded, Brian couldn’t muster a reply.

He was not gazing with affection!

Lyndon certainly thought too highly of himself!

eavesdropping on their exchange, flicked her gaze

pair shared

not been her spouse, she might have fancied pairing

who would dominate in such

Brian was momentarily at

in his embrace, his fingers delicately

on

E L A ‘s L I

“Nothing.”

Were your thoughts on me,

tone, Brian drew her

lips tightened, her response withheld. She sought to

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