“Nathan, it’s getting late. We should go home,” Tessa said, looking him in the eye.

The mask on Nathan’s face hid his expression, but she could tell he was frowning. She could practically see the crease forming on his forehead, the way it always did when he was annoyed.

“The auction hasn’t even started yet, sweetheart.” His hand stayed firmly on her waist, keeping her close. “You feeling sick? You sure you wanna go home?”

“I’m not feeling well.”

Tessa almost ...