The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride (Evelyn and Alexander) novel Chapter 231

**Steps Along Forgotten Roads**
*By Sophia Reed*

**Chapter 231: Dinner With The Landry’s**

**Judy’s POV**

The atmosphere in the room was charged, and all three of them were staring at me with varying degrees of expectation. Irene and Matt wore bright, eager smiles, their eyes sparkling with anticipation, while Gavin stood off to the side, his brow furrowed in a deep frown that seemed to cast a shadow over the moment.

I felt like a deer caught in headlights as I stood there, my heart racing in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears like a drum. The weight of their gazes bore down on me, and I struggled to find the right words to extricate myself from this situation. There was no way I could sit down for dinner with Gavin and his family—not after everything that had happened.

“I really should go,” I stammered out, my voice trembling slightly as I gestured awkwardly toward the door behind me. A nervous laugh escaped my lips, sounding more desperate than I intended.

“Please, Judy,” Matt implored, his grip tightening around my arm as if he were afraid I might disappear. “I really want you to stay.”

“It would be lovely to have another woman at the table,” Irene chimed in, her voice laced with a flicker of hope that tugged at my heartstrings.

I could see how much she craved companionship, how desperately she was trying to connect with someone, anyone. My gaze flitted to Gavin, silently pleading for him to intervene, to offer me a way out. But he merely sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair, his expression unreadable. He exchanged glances with Irene and Matt before turning to the maid who had entered at his command.

“Set an extra plate for Miss Montague,” he instructed, his voice firm and unwavering.

My heart sank like a stone dropped into a deep well.

“Yes, Alpha,” the maid replied, bowing her head in deference before hurrying off to the kitchen.

Gavin’s eyes locked onto mine, hard and unyielding, his face a mask of indifference that belied the storm brewing beneath the surface. I was taken aback by his actions; it was evident he didn’t want me to stay, yet he was compelling me to do just that. Why was he doing this?

I wanted to confront him, to voice my confusion, but I hesitated. I didn’t want to create a scene in front of Matt, who was practically bouncing with excitement at the prospect of having me join them for dinner. The last thing I wanted was to be the one to extinguish that bright spark of joy. From what I had gathered, it was a rare occurrence for Matt to be this happy, and the thought of being the reason for his disappointment gnawed at me.

“This is so exciting!” Irene exclaimed, clapping her hands together like a child. “Come on, Matt. Let’s get ready for dinner!”

Matt nodded vigorously, practically skipping toward the kitchen with Irene in tow, leaving me alone with Gavin. The moment they were out of earshot, I turned to him, my eyes blazing with frustration, lips pressed into a thin line.

“What was that all about?” I demanded, placing my hands firmly on my hips, refusing to back down.

“What was what?” he replied, feigning ignorance, his gaze wandering everywhere but toward me, which only fueled my anger further.

I rolled my eyes at his childish act.

“Why would you ask the maid to set an extra plate for me?” I asked, my voice dripping with exasperation.

Finally, he met my gaze, and I could see the coldness lurking in his eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth I had felt moments before.

“Because you’re having dinner with us,” he stated, his voice low and edged with a hint of threat. The change in his demeanor startled me, and I instinctively took a step back. “I haven’t seen Matt smile like that in ages, and for some reason, he seems to like you. So, for his sake, you’re going to stay for dinner, and you won’t complain about it.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died on my lips. He was right; I couldn’t be the reason for Matt’s unhappiness. With a reluctant nod, I turned away from him and began to walk toward the kitchen, my heart heavy with resignation.

But before I could get too far, he grasped my arm gently yet firmly, stopping me in my tracks. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down my spine, igniting a rush of sensations within me. I turned to face him, my breath hitching as I realized just how close he was. His scent enveloped me, a heady mix that made my heart race even faster.

For a fleeting moment, it felt as if time stood still. He looked at me, his lips slightly parted, his eyes dark with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. I could feel the heat radiating between us, and my thoughts raced. Did I want him to kiss me again?

I bit my lip, the answer clear in my mind. Yes, I wanted to kiss Gavin Landry.

But as if jolted back to reality, he released my arm and straightened, a mask of composure settling back into place. I blinked, momentarily dazed, my cheeks flushing with warmth.

“It’s just dinner, Judy,” he reminded me, his tone cool and detached. “Don’t get any ideas that this changes anything.”

He walked past me, heading toward the kitchen without casting another glance in my direction. My fingers instinctively reached up to touch my cheek, which felt like it was on fire. I cleared my throat, trying to ground myself before taking a deep breath and following him inside.

Irene and Matt were already seated at the table, and I noticed two additional plates set before them—one at the head of the table and the other right beside it. My stomach twisted at the realization that they intended for me to sit right next to Gavin.

As Gavin approached the table, he let out a resigned sigh, and I could sense his reluctance. The aroma of the food wafted through the dining room, making my mouth water; I suddenly realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day. Between my visit to see my father in prison and rushing here to tutor Matt, I had completely lost track of time.

Gavin took his seat, and I hesitantly followed suit, settling beside him. A maid hurried in, carrying a bottle of wine and another of apple juice. She promptly poured Irene a glass of wine and Matt a glass of apple juice before moving toward Gavin, filling his glass with the rich red liquid. When she reached me, she offered a polite smile.

“Wine, madam?” she asked, her tone respectful.

“I’ll take apple juice,” I replied quickly, not wanting to partake in any alcohol. I needed to keep my wits about me, especially around Gavin.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify