Joanne brushed her fingers lightly over his, as a reminder. Not here. Not now.
"Oh, and Joanne," Brianna said, her tone dipped in sugar, "I think it's absolutely charming that you know all about sheep and hay and the simple things in life. Honestly, logistics too? That's impressive. Most farmgirls don't even know the difference between a balance sheet and a feed bill."
The table tensed. A few glasses paused midair.
Jeffrey's jaw clenched. His fingers curled into fists in his lap.
Joanne didn't miss it. Without looking, she gently placed her hand over his, grounding him. Her thumb made slow, calming circles over his skin. He looked at her—her eyes soft but steady—and took a breath.
Not tonight, she seemed to say. Not for her.
She wasn't going to start a war over dinner. Not for someone like Brianna.
