Gillian did fit in, even when he was worried she didn’t.

She also seemed to be a pretty decent pool player as she handily ended up in second place right behind Ben, who was nearly impossible to beat anyway.

“Here, take my turn,” Adrian told Erin when Gillian returned to the table. “Pizza’s here and so is my lady.”

Gillian blushed. “You don’t need to. I can eat pizza and chat with everyone here. I don’t need a keeper.”

That warm, slow flood of desire flowed through him.

“Yes, but we already established the fact that I do. Plus if I go play, I can’t eat pizza. Really, it’s the best of both worlds right here.”

“All right.”

They talked and laughed. Ella filled them in on the plans for the nursery in their house. Cope had already started on a bassinet that they’d keep in their room for the first months.

“Hand carving a bassinet? That’s lovely. I can’t imagine a more wonderful gift for him to give you. Other than the baby, of course.” Gillian looked back to Ella, who was nodding.

“You should come to the house sometime for dinner. Bring Miles since he and Andrew seem to have the same insane love of Burnout: Revenge. He’s done so much of the woodwork in the house himself. The moldings, banisters, chair rails, window casements. He’s endlessly talented. Give him wood and his tools and look away and suddenly he’s made something beautiful. I’m forever finding little boxes and things he’s made for me.”

Gillian’s smile warmed. “That’s a lovely thing for a man to do.”

“I totally agree. So tell me about Carmina Burana. Elise shared earlier that you’d be playing the piano and how everyone is raving about you.”

Gillian’s eyes widened. “Really? Oh no, I doubt that.”

Ella’s laugh put Adrian at ease as she patted Gillian’s hand. “She told me that she and the creative director of the choral group went to listen to you and the other pianist and you were amazing.”

“Well, it’s such a grand piece. Really, it’s not me at all. I just play what someone else wrote. Rehearsals will start soon with the choral group. I haven’t done anything like this in a while so I’m quite thrilled about it. Don’t want to get rusty.”

Adrian watched her. Listened to her conversations with the others. Joined in here and there. Maybe it was that when they were all together with Miles, her focus was on him so often she couldn’t really engage as deeply. He didn’t know for sure, but he liked seeing her this way.

Erin finally came back to their table, wearing a grin, and Adrian knew they were all in trouble.

“Karaoke night! Who’s in?”

“Do we have a choice?” Todd’s question was reasonable, but his wife rolled her eyes at him.

“Gillian, I think you and I should go.” Erin held a hand out and Gillian tossed a desperate look back to Adrian.

“Say no if you don’t want to, English. She won’t make you. But I think you should.”

“Only if you go too.”

“Oh ho! The woman knows how to negotiate.” Erin’s pleased grin only made Gillian laugh.

“All right. I’ll go next if you go first. And, I get to choose the song.”

“No. You suck at song choice. You’ll make us sing something stupid and I don’t want to.” Erin shook her head. “I’ll choose and you’ll like it and that is that.” She took Gillian’s hand and tugged her from the booth and both women moved to the small stage where they signed up and looked over the songs. Adrian watched as Gillian shook her head no to a few selections, and then they both nodded and laughed when he assumed they’d made their choice.

Erin slapped a pair of big old sunglasses onto Gillian’s face and appeared to give her a pep talk as Gillian shook her head and appeared to finally relent.

“Fearless woman,” Elise said.

“Fierce,” Adrian corrected, noting how Erin stayed behind her when Gillian went up onto the stage.

And then she fell into the song and he fell into her performance of PJ Harvey’s “Long Snake Moan.”

“Holy shit.” Ben leaned forward as they sang and it became totally obvious what a f**king kick-ass singer Gillian was.

And he had no idea.

Why had she not told him about this?

The piano was one thing, but she could clearly sing circles around a really difficult song. Enough that he could see she had received formal training. Probably at Juilliard.

He was impressed and proud, and at the same time, that he didn’t know stuck in his craw, agitating him.

She didn’t work the stage like Erin would have. Didn’t dance around or act sexy. She simply owned her spot and that song as he sat there struck dumb by it all.

When the song was over she handed the mic off hastily and beat it offstage with Erin chattering at her excitedly.

The group cheered her and she blushed, but there was no hiding the big smile she wore. And he felt like an ass**le, but the fact that he hadn’t known she could sing only emphasized how much he didn’t know about her. And how he couldn’t unless she stopped holding back.

Still smiling, she turned to him, holding out the sunglasses. “You can wear them if you’d like. It’s your turn. I think you should sing something like . . . Are you all right?”

“I just had no idea you could sing like that.”

Her open, happy smile faded at his words. “Well, now you do.” Still, she made an effort to keep it light even though she’d shuttered her gaze.