Laurel rolls her eyes at me. “I don’t bang every guy I go out with. Some of them are boring. Some of them are rude. Some of them are on their phone the whole time we’re out. Not every date is a home run. In fact, I’m starting to think that unless a man is capable of murder and mayhem, I’m not even interested. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.”
I can’t help grinning at that. “You like men who play by their own rules; nothing wrong with that. You’ve certainly come to the right place, kitten.”
She used to derive pleasure from that little nickname, but now it makes her solemn. “Coming here was a mistake. I don’t even know why I did it.”
“Sure you do,” I tell her, taking a step closer. She retreats a step in response, but only succeeds in backing herself up against the wall. I hear her swallow and she looks down and away, determined not to look at me. I go on anyway. “You came here because you liked me, because maybe you kinda missed me, and then this happened.” Now I reach forward, placing the palm of my hand over her abdomen. “Then you had the perfect reason to come see me again. If I hadn’t been happy to see you just for a visit, you had a cover story, to preserve your pride.”
“I came here because I met a handsome prince at an enchanted castle, but it turns out he was just a frog in a nice suit,” she informs me, sliding along the wall until there’s nothing but the empty space of the hallway behind her. Then she sidles away like she has to keep an eye on me so I don’t pounce and backs toward the kitchen. “I’m going to check on dinner.”
“Just flies for me, right?”
A reluctant smile claims her lips and she shakes her head at me before disappearing into the kitchen.
22
Laurel
Sin’s back is to me when I find him in the kitchen. He doesn’t even look like he’s doing anything, just standing at the counter, drumming his fingers on the granite surface. I attempt to sneak up behind him, sliding my hands around his waist and pressing myself against his back.
He glances back at me, his mouth tugged up in a faint smirk. “What are you doing?”
“Feeling you up,” I state, running my hands down the soft fabric of his black t-shirt, pressing my fingers against the grooves of his chiseled abdomen. “What are you doing? Hiding in the kitchen?”
His fingers close around my wrist, moving my hands so he can turn. At least he puts them back once he’s facing me, so he must not mind me feeling him up. “What would I be hiding from?”
“I don’t know. You left me alone with him.”
I hear the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth and I want to call them back. Sin’s gaze drops and he offers a smile that doesn’t quite ring true. “Do you need a babysitter around Rafe?”
Logically, I would like to point out that the last time I didn’t have one, he got me pregnant. On an emotional level though, all I want to do is wipe whatever that look is off Sin’s face, so I shake my head, more blasé than I probably have reason to be. “Of course not. But I made this dinner for you, not him. You shouldn’t be hiding in the kitchen. If you don’t want him here, tell him to leave.”
“Nah, he’d like that,” Sin tells me.
Sighing, I shake my head at him. “You guys with all your mental thrust and parry.”
A more authentic smile steals across Sin’s face and he rests his hands on my hips, tugging me closer. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Thrust and parry. Like in fencing. One thrusts their weapon; their opponent blocks the blade or changes direction.”
“This may shock you to your very core, but I don’t know the first thing about fencing.”
“Well, now you do,” I tell him. “Anyway, my point was, you guys are being competitive with one another.”
“Rafe likes competition.”
“Do you?”
He glances past me—not noticeably, just a flicker of his attention that I only detect because his hold on my hips shifts. His eyes never actually leave the general vicinity of my face, but now he leans forward and gives me a kiss on the forehead. “No,” he murmurs.
Given the shift in him, I’m not surprised when I sense movement behind me.
&nb
sp; “Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious,” Rafe announces.
I turn to face Rafe, but Sin keeps his hands on my hips and pulls me back against him. Rafe’s gaze floats past me to Sin, but when I speak, his attention returns to me. I remember those few days not so long ago when his attention felt like basking in sunlight, but that was when I thought he was nice—to me, at least. I knew he wasn’t nice to the world in general, but as long as he was nice to me, then I could enjoy him.
Now I’m more attuned to the way Sin’s fingers dig into my skin like he’s tense, and I don’t want him to be tense. If Rafe being here makes him feel that way, I want Rafe to leave.