Lullaby 205

For a moment, the air was heavy with silence.

Rowan glanced at her, as if amused by some private joke. “When has my reputation ever been any good?”

In the Murphy family, he was the black sheep–never one to respect tradition or elders.

Out in the world, people froze up at the mere sight of him.

A good reputation? That was never in the cards for him.

Lorraine hesitated, then pressed, “But what about her? Aren’t you concerned about her reputation?”

“I am.”

That was exactly why he’d never considered going public with Elissa before her divorce was finalized.

Lorraine rushed to add, “But if this keeps up, sooner or later, people will start talking-”

Rowan cut her off, his eyes cold and voice like ice. “Which is exactly why you’d better keep it to yourself.”

Half warning, half reminder.

He was always this distant, this cool. But when that glacial stare landed on her, Lorraine’s heart stuttered. “I–I understand,” she stammered.

Her perfectly manicured nails dug into her palm, snapping one by one.

As Rowan turned on his heel to head back to the lounge, Lorraine watched his tall, broad–shouldered frame and couldn’t help but ask, “Is this just a game for you two,

or…?”

He didn’t so much as slow down, let alone answer.

He didn’t see the need to explain himself to her. Just as he’d always said he didn’t acknowledge their engagement, not for a second.

Lorraine stood frozen, collecting herself before she finally managed to return to the lounge.

10:29

When Elissa walked back in, Frank waved her over. “Come on, give it a try,”

“I’m really not much good at this,” she protested.

“Doesn’t matter–just play,” Frank said breezily, scooting over to make room. “Your husband’s loaded. If you lose, you lose.”

Bradley clicked his tongue. “This isn’t a card game, it’s a front–row seat to domestic bliss.”

Elissa sat down and picked up her cards, still sorting them when the door swung open again.

Rowan strolled in, looking completely unbothered–the polar opposite of the man who’d just left the room minutes ago.

Elissa’s gaze flicked to his mouth; guilt prickled at her, and her hand shook, cards tumbling out of her grasp.

Tanya Foster grinned. “What’s this–showing your hand right off the bat?”

Elissa shot her a look, hastily gathering her cards as Frank chuckled. “Be nice, she’s a beginner.”

He sounded every bit the protective husband.

Rowan wandered over and stood behind Elissa, his long legs and lazy posture unmistakable. “Play this one,” he murmured.

Elissa looked up at him, exasperated. “Backseat players don’t get to talk.”

Rowan’s lips curled in a half–smile, his meaning unmistakable. “I never claimed to play

fair.”

She couldn’t out–talk him, so she just ignored him and focused on her hand.

Bradley, an old hand at the table and an even older gossip, threw Rowan a sideways glance and suddenly quipped, “So you say you’re not acknowledging that engagement with Lorraine, but your lips look a whole lot redder than before you left.”

Elissa’s grip on her cards tightened. Her whole body tensed.

She’d retouched her lipstick–no one had noticed.

But Rowan’s…

Frank noticed her hesitation and grinned. “Can’t decide what to play?”

“Yeah, just give me a second,” Elissa replied, regaining her composure and playing a

10:29

card under Rowan’s direction.

Rowan laughed and reached over to smack Bradley on the head. “Why do you spend so much time looking at my lips? What, you want a kiss?”

Bradley recoiled with a theatrical shudder. “Man, don’t even joke like that. I don’t swing that way.”

The joke broke the tension, and Elissa let out a quiet sigh of relief.

She picked things up quickly, memory sharp and luck on her side. With the beginner’s edge, she wiped the floor with them.

Tanya threw down her cards in defeat. “Seriously, girl, what kind of luck do you have? You win every damn hand!”