“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!

gaze between them and couldn’t

shared a curious

she

who would dominate in

musing expression, Brian was momentarily

his embrace, his fingers delicately

on

L A ‘s L

“Nothing.”

your thoughts on

playful tone, Brian drew her

withheld. She sought to disengage his hand from

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