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Mona gazed at me, her face impassive. One elegantly shaped eyebrow rose, and she smirked. On Dean, it was hot. On her, not so much. “Why don’t you ask him, yourself? He’s right here.”
“Hey.” Dean gave me a gentle nudge. “I brought you a drink.” He’d walked up behind me. How much did he hear?
I wouldn’t give Mona the satisfaction of knowing I was shaken by her words. Instead, I fixed a smile on my face and took the drink Dean offered. “Thank you. This is Cory’s wife, Moaning.”
“Mona,” she said, quickly.
“My mistake.”
“You must be Dean,” continued Mona. Her smile was filled with icy satisfaction. “Is it a good feeling, to know Richie is still off sick? After you attacked him.”
“Leave it, hun,” said one of the other women, putting her hand on Mona’s arm. “You don’t want him to lash out.”
Even without touching him, I felt Dean freeze at my side. “The fuck?” He sounded confused.
“Maybe I do,” said Mona. “Maybe I want everyone to see what a psycho they’ve thrown into blue watch. It’s our husbands that will pay the price when he fucks up.”
Time seemed to slow down. I had to get Dean away from them before he said or did something he might regret later. He rescued me from embarrassing myself when I saw Zack with Holly. I could do the same.
He opened his mouth to speak. I turned to face him and pretended to stumble. The full glass of orange juice in my hand jerked toward Mona. A heartbeat later, the glass was on the ground, and her silky top and white jeans were spattered in juice and ice cubes.
Mona shrieked, a string of curses pouring out of her mouth.
“My God,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how that happened.”
Dean was silent.
While her friends helped calm the flapping woman and lead her to the house, Dean stared into my eyes. “Was that an accident?”
“No.”
“Shit.” He ran a hand over his chin.
“I’m sorry if it makes things difficult for you. With her husband, I mean. But I’m not sorry it happened. She was poisonous.”
“We should leave.”
“Why? You’ve done nothing wrong. If anyone should leave, it’d be Moaning Mona. Let’s go mingle.”
His lips twitched, and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. “I should be upset with you, but I’m not. Don’t change, little sandy girl. You’re perfect as you are.” He grabbed my hand and threaded our fingers together. “Just try not to throw any more drinks around, okay?”
We walked back to the food table, and Dean got chatting with another guy, Toby, while I talked to his girlfriend. Or tried to. She was very pretty, but rather chilly toward me. It was only when she mentioned Mona had to go home early that I realised she’d seen me toss my drink. There was no recovery for our conversation after that. Were all the wives friends with each other? I hated petty cliques even more than I hated being excluded from them. I stood by Dean’s side and pretended to listen to the chat about a rugby game, but my concentration was elsewhere.
I wasn’t disappointed when Dean suggested we leave. We’d been there an hour, and it was enough. He wanted to say goodbye to Tim and Leanne first, and I trailed along with him.
Leanne hugged me. “A little bird tells me Mona had to go get changed,” she murmured in my ear. I froze. I didn’t intend to disrespect Leanne with my little stunt. “But, hey,” she added. “Who goes to a barbecue in white jeans? I mean, that’s asking for trouble.”
I pulled back and saw the twinkle in her eyes. “I know, right?”
“It was lovely to meet you, Steph. I hope to see you again.”
That was unexpected and nice. Meanwhile, Tim shook Dean’s hand and spoke in a hearty tone about getting him involved in a charity event. It was all reassuringly normal, after the supreme bitchiness of Mona and her friends.
Dean waited until we got back into his car before he spoke. “I’m not sure I want to know, but what the fuck was going on back there?”
“Mona said Richie is her cousin. The guy you had a fight with.”
“Dickless? For real?” He laughed, but it sounded pained. “I guess the fuckwit gene runs in their family. Did she give you a hard time?”
Should I mention his girlfriend? Or ex, if that was what she was?
“I asked you a question, sandy girl. I’m still waiting for your answer.”
Fuck. The tone he used, bossy and uncompromising, made me squirm in my seat. Like Pavlov’s dog, I’d trained myself to react to Dean’s commands. If I asked about Belle, we’d end up talking about awkward stuff, and the rest of the night would go to shit. I could ignore the red flag that Mona waved at me. I could look past it for one night, couldn’t I?
“No, she didn’t.” I looked directly at him. And it wasn’t a lie—not really. She’d been giving Dean a hard time, not me.
“I’m glad. It wasn’t very polite to throw your drink over her, though. Do I need to spank some good manners into you?”
His voice was stern, but his eyes gleamed, and I saw the smile he fought to hold back.
“I don’t know. You might.” I managed to sound careless. “Or I might do it again.”
This time, his smile escaped. After the ugliness of the encounter with Mona, it warmed my heart to see him in a better place.
Did he spank Belle? Did he call her a good girl?
Everyone had exes, but knowing the name of his made her real. And what did he do to her? I wasn’t going to ask tonight, but not knowing was burning me up inside.