He slipped an arm around her waist and tugged her close. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t believe you bet a thousand dollars, Sloan.” She frowned up at him. “That’s a lot of money. I’m confident, but not that confident.”
He cupped her cheek with his knuckles. “I’d put every cent I have on you.”
She huffed a laugh, unconvinced, but leaned into him anyway. Sloan pulled her against his chest, leaning back against the wall with her tucked safely under his arm.
“Aren’t you voting?” Steve asked as he passed with more chicken.
“Don’t have to,” Sloan replied, then sighed when Sid laughed loudly. “I already know whose is the best.”
“Scared you’ll vote for the best, which is mine and not Becky’s.” Sid snorted with a smirk. “Guess I would do the same to keep the peace at home.”
“He’s really full of himself, isn’t he?” Becky whispered with a shake of her head.
“He’s an asshole,” Sloan answered, glaring at Sid.
He watched his men swarm the table like starving wolves, loading plates and arguing over whose chicken was A or B. Chairs scraped, voices rose, Steve was still going on about Colonel-fucking-Sanders, and Sid paced around the kitchen watching everyone eat.
Sloan couldn’t help but smile. They were a dysfunctional bunch of assholes, and he’d walk into hell for any one of them. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud.
But all of that chaos faded the moment Becky leaned into him. Having her in his arms, a warm, steady, and quiet contentment settled over him, which was very rare for Sloan. Too damn rare. He wanted to stay right there, just breathing her in, letting the rest of the world fall away.
Then he felt it—a tiny tremor running through her.
He glanced down, frowning. Up close, she looked… off. Paler than usual. Eyes dimmed slightly.
“You cold?” he asked, tightening his hold around her.
“No,” she said softly, then gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I think someone just walked over my grave.”
“What?” The word shot out harsher and louder than he intended. He turned her fully toward him. “Why would you say that?”
Her eyes widened at his reaction. “Sloan, it’s just something my grandma used to say. If she shivered, she’d claim someone walked over where her grave would be. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just an old folklore saying.”
“Well, don’t say shit like that.” His voice came out stiff, almost angry, and he hated the way her smile slipped into a frown.
He wasn’t mad at her. He was mad at the feeling in his gut—the same feeling he got right before things went to shit. Something was wrong, and she was hiding it from him.
Before she could respond, Sid clapped loudly. “Okay, it’s time to count the votes.” He shoved the bowl toward Caroline with the air of a man conducting important business. “Make sure you count them twice, Caroline.”
“Just give me the bowl, Sid,” Caroline rolled her eyes. “Come on, Becky. If Sid is going to watch me like a hawk, I want you over here also.”
She gave Sloan a slight, uncertain nod and headed toward Sid, slipping into the chaos of the room.
Sloan didn’t follow.
He just watched her, watched the too-stiff set of her shoulders, the way she forced a laugh at something Caroline said, and the way she kept giving him a sideways glance. He shouldn’t have lost his shit over what she had said. He had actually heard that saying himself, but hearing it from her when he knew something was going on had definitely set him on edge, and he had reacted.
“Okay, everyone, I have counted the votes!” Caroline called out after she finished tallying the votes...twice. “And the winner of the fried chicken cookoff is....B!”
“What?” Becky’s eyes were wide as her hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh, shit!” Jared laughed, seeing Sid’s face collapse like he’d been betrayed. “Becky won?”
The room erupted with laughter, trash talk flying instantly. Steve yelled something about howColonel Sanderswould be proud.
Sloan didn’t join in. He just watched Becky standing there in the middle of it all, smiling for everyone else, but not for herself. He knew her that well. Sid walked her way, and Sloan swore he would kill him if he said one disrespectful thing to his mate.