The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 539

Chapter 539 Unlikely Meet Up

Chapter 539 Unlikely Meet Up

“Mr. Windore, you and Ms. Wentworth know each other?” Miles asked, still holding Laura’s hand in mid–greeting.

“Know her?” Weston’s smile broadened as he brushed a stray strand of Laura’s hair behind her ear with almost possessive gentleness. “She’s my girlfriend. Seems fate insists we share lunch today.”

“Then let’s have lunch together,” Miles chimed, eager to keep the mood light.

Gavin arched a brow, a half–smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “What do you say, Laura? Should we join them or pick a quieter spot? Your call.”

Laura opened her mouth, but Weston’s darkening gaze pinned her answer before it formed. “Let’s eat together,” she said, voice soft yet steady.

Tension already shimmered in the air; she refused to sharpen it further, especially with Miles sitting in the crossfire.

The four of them settled around a corner table, menus forgotten as invisible currents crackled between glances.

Weston fixed his eyes on Gavin. “So, Dr. Huxley, are you and Laura close? Funny she’s never mentioned having a celebrated physician in her circle.”

Gavin’s smile was easy, unhurried. “We only met today–doctor and patient, nothing more. Still, we clicked. I imagine we’ll be friends soon enough, won’t we, Laura?”

Feeling Weston’s gaze sharpen like glass, Laura managed a light laugh. “Yes, I think we will.”

Laura had heard bits and pieces about Gavin, most of them from Quinn, shared in half–whispered confidences over late–night coffee. She knew he was reputedly direct yet kind, and after chatting with him during the consultation, she discovered their temperaments synced like notes in the same chord. Such people, she felt, were worth befriending.

Across the table, Weston’s expression curdled. His lips pressed into a bloodless line, and a sudden hush slid over the private dining

room.

Seeing the tension coil, Miles waved the waitstaff forward, urging them to hurry the dishes as though steaming platters could thaw the air.

“I was reading your profile,” Weston began, voice deceptively casual. “It says he specializes in neurosurgery, psychiatry, and psychological research. On the drive here, Mr. Sutton told me your appointments are impossible to get. Imagine my surprise when you landed one, Laura.”

“Oh, you never need an appointment, Laura,” Gavin replied, wearing a grin that dared anyone to challenge him. “If the meds! prescribed today don’t sit right, call me anytime. After all, my number is already saved in your phone.”

Laura sputtered on her soup and coughed into her napkin, cheeks flushing scarlet. Seriously, Gavin? Could you make that sound any more suggestive? Are you trying to start a fire just for the fun of watching it burn?

The air thickened with tension once more.

“All right, I will,” Laura murmured, forcing a polite smile.

“What happened to you?” Weston asked, eyes drilling into her.

“I’ve just had trouble sleeping these past two nights, so I asked Dr. Huxley to take a look,” she answered.

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“Mr. Windore, you really should pay more attention. A man ought to know when his girlfriend isn’t feeling well,” Gavin said, the taunt wrapped in silk.

Laura’s head throbbed. She leaned toward Gavin, her voice barely above a breath. “Are you doing this to provoke Weston?”

Gavin dipped his head, matching her hush. “He stared at me like I was a love rival the moment he walked in. If that’s the role, i might as well play it to the hilt.”

Laura almost rolled her eyes. Oh for heaven’s sake, could he be any more childish?

Gavin’s eyes flicked to her again. “By the way, is he really your boyfriend?”

Laura fell silent, unsure how to answer. They were, after all, bound only by a contract.

And truth be told, she wasn’t even certain whether that contract still held or had quietly unraveled.

Gavin raised one eyebrow but let the matter drop.

Weston took in the whispered exchange, and the sight stabbed at him like shards of glass. To him, they looked flagrantly intimate right under his nose.

Halfway through the meal, Laura excused herself and walked toward the restroom.

On her way back, a hand clamped around her arm, yanking her off course.

A heartbeat later she was dragged into the corridor beside the restrooms.

Her back met the cold wall, and familiar arms caged her in.

Weston’s warm breath brushed her ear, sending a tremor down her spine.

“Laura Wentworth, why were you getting so close to that man? Have you already grown tired of me?”

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