Sweetly Yours

Chapter Three; Sweetly Suspicious

Author's Note; sorry for the quite uneventful chapter, blah. But yenno, there's plenty of good stuff to come. -wink- Thank-you for reading!

Sweetly Yours

Chapter Three; Sweetly Suspicious

Dinner at the Bright household, I discovered, was always--and I repeat, always--served at four o'clock sharp, due to Mr Bright having to conform to a strict schedule with work. And so here I was, sitting at that sleek modern dining table with the Bright family, quietly eating my portion of piping hot spaghetti bolognese, and trying my hardest not to spill or drop anything.

It was a six seat table, with four main seats and one at either head. Mr Bright sat at the top head, with Kye and Jamie either side, and then Mrs Bright and I--meaning that I was sitting next to Jamie. Whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, I hadn't decided just yet, as it could potentially turn out disastrous, although, it did mean that I was close to him. 

Although, that does sound a little too creepy.

 "So, Farah," Kye started in between ravagingly chewing on his spaghetti, sounding a little too innocent, "you're staying over, I hear?"

 I nodded, quickly swallowing my mouthful of spaghetti, "yeah, I am." I met Kye's challenging gaze straight on, already knowing what was coming next.

"Ah, I see . . . oh, but where will you sleep?" He asked, his eyes glinting.

Mrs Bright chipped in then, oblivious to mocking challenge of Kye and I's exchange, "oh, Jamie volunteered his bed, Kye! Why can't you be a gentleman like your brother, hm?"

Kye tore of a piece of his garlic bread, popping it into his mouth before chewing slowly. "What can I say? I'm the dashing, dark, dangerous, brother," he proclaimed, cramming in the rest of his garlic bread in one piece and chewing loudly. Oh, ew. I looked away, disgusted to say the least.

"And I'm the handsome, heroic, honourable brother," Jamie shot back instantaneously, a coy grin set upon his face.

Yes, you really are, Jamie . . .

Smiling at the brotherly banter, I glanced at both Mr and Mrs Bright, who were watching their sons with matching bemused expressions, which hinted that this might not be a one time occurrence.

Realising I was just sat there smiling, which was a bit on the creepy side, I took a delicate bite out of my piece of garlic bread, devouring the buttery taste. I then proceeded to dunk the remaining chunk into the rich spaghetti sauce, before polishing off the piece with a few more delicious bites.

Mrs Bright really did know how to cook a great spaghetti bolognaise. I could easily see how this was Jamie's favourite meal.

"So, Farah," Mr Bright started--the resemblance to Kye in that moment more obvious that a bright flashing neon sign, "how's your old man doing?"

"Well, he's doing okay, I suppose," I replied politely, "he injured his spine a while ago, and he's only just recently started back at work again," I explained, twirling a clump of slimy spaghetti around my fork.

"How terrible!" Mrs Bright gasped.

I smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, he's fine now. He went to see . . . a chiropractor, was it? Anyway, he's all better!"

"All better!" Kye mimicked in a high pitched voice under his breath, and I shot him what I hoped was a dagger of a glare.

Funny, how I'm already perfectly comfortable being around--even glaring at Kye, but I still can't help but feel a nervous little flutter in my stomach if I so much as glance at Jamie.