Wild about Weston (The English Brothers Book 5) by Katy Regnery

girlfriend, Jessica, and Weston’s sometimes riding companion. “Congratulations on your new sister-in-law. Daisy’s a vision.”
    “Thanks, Brooks.”
    “Fitz is one lucky bastard,” added Preston.
    The rest of the table offered their own versions of congratulations and good cheer as Molly settled in her seat.
    “You’ve returned our Molly,” said J.C., lifting his glass and winking at her. “ Un seul être vous manque et tout est dépeuplé. ”
    Molly laughed nervously, wishing she knew what J.C. had said and feeling a little embarrassed by so much attention.
    When Weston didn’t say anything, she twisted her neck to glance up at him standing behind her chair and was surprised to find his expression way beyond icy—it was positively glacial as he looked back at J.C., and Molly sensed it relayed a message that J.C., with his smug grin, read loud and clear.
    Finally, Weston cut his eyes to Molly. She watched his face soften as he leaned down and kissed her cheek.
    “See you later?”
    She smiled and nodded, and with one more warning glance at J.C., Weston turned and headed to his own table.
    ***
    Weston’s French was rusty, but roughly translated, J.C. had said, “ With the loss of one person, the whole world can feel empty” as he winked at Molly. It had been on the tip of Weston’s tongue to tell J.C. to fuck off and find another girl, but at the last minute Weston realized he had no claim to Molly. He liked her very much. He hated the fact that he had to leave her with a smooth-talking Frenchman while he fulfilled his filial duties at a table across the room from her. And he’d likely be on edge until her hand was safely laced with his again. But, laying claim to her? Weston had no right, and for whatever indecipherable reason, it frustrated him.
    Damn J.C. Rousseau to hell and back! Why had Daisy sat Molly beside him anyway? Wasn’t there any room at his grandmother’s table, for God’s sake?
    Weston stalked angrily to the table where Barrett and Emily, Fitz and Daisy, Alex and Jessica, Stratton and Valeria, and his cousin, Kate, waited for him. Taking a seat between Kate and Alex, he was further frustrated to discover that his back was to Molly’s table and huffed softly as he sat down.
    “Well, hello, sunshine,” said Kate, nudging him with her elbow.
    “Hey, Kate,” Weston mumbled, picking up his pre-set Champagne flute and downing it.
    “Someone’s having a great time, huh?”
    Weston sighed deeply, looking up to his brothers and their significant others all staring at him. When he saw the worry in Daisy’s eyes from across the table, he forced himself to smile warmly at her before turning to Kate.
    “Yep, I am, cuz. Thanks for noticing. I’m having a great time.”
    “I don’t miss anything. I’m a litigator.”
    “Bottom feeder,” he teased.
    “Just wait ‘til you pass the bar, little one. Words like that will be akin to cannibalism.” Kate grinned at Weston, grabbed a bottle of white wine from the middle of the table and poured him a full glass. “That should help.”
    Weston shrugged, feeling fairly certain that it would take more than a glass of wine to “help.” Now, a glass of wine thrown in J.C.’s face? That might help.
    “Daisy’s awfully sweet,” Kate whispered into his ear as conversations resumed around the table. “But she doesn’t know you like I do. Spill it. What’s going on?”
    “You know the Rousseau’s at all, Kate?”
    He was surprised to see her wince lightly before answering. “A little.”
    “What do you want to know about the Rousseau’s?” asked Alex from Weston’s other side, flicking a concerned glance at Kate before leveling his eyes on Weston.
    “Butt in much?” asked Weston belligerently.
    Alex shook his head and Weston noted that his lip was puffy with a touch of dried blood near the spot where it had split.
    “You’re such a brat tonight,” said Alex.
    “Yeah? Well, you’re a pain in the ass every night.”
    “Who is?