Credence

The women all came from the race with us, so he must’ve had to take her back to town himself. Wonder what cut the night so short.

“Not in the mood?” I tease.

But instead of smiling it off, he cocks his head at me, something playing behind his eyes that makes my stomach drop a little.

He hasn’t gone off on me. Why? I’m down here half-dressed in my panties. Why isn’t he barking at me to get some clothes on? Or go to bed?

“I was hungry,” I explain, barely able to meet his eyes. “Are you?”

Again, he just sits there, his eyes on me and only me.

But he doesn’t say no, and he doesn’t tell me to go get dressed.

Tell me I’m acting up. Tell me to get my ass upstairs and into some pajamas.

But he doesn’t.

And I back up, my heart thumping but feeling bold as I turn for the fridge and pull out some eggs. I dare myself, sure that he’ll yell at me any second.

I push it further, walking around the island to get the pan, still waiting for him to tell me to get upstairs.

But he doesn’t, and my eyes burn. Maybe I’m picking a fight.

Or maybe I like to be looked at.

I don’t go upstairs, though.

Moving around the dark kitchen, I keep the lights off as I set the pan on the burner—frying up some butter as I crack and whisk eggs. I add some garlic and Creole seasoning, aware of his eyes on my back and on my every movement. I have no idea what my hair looks like after sleep and the fit I had afterward, but I love the way it feels hanging over my shoulders and down my back. Kind of like what someone touching me would feel like.

My light pink silk panties hug my ass, the bikini straps sitting just below my hips and leaving two inches of skin between them and my gray cami exposed. I reach up, putting the spices away as the muscles in my legs and ass flex, wanting him to see it.

“Why are you awake?” he asks in a raspy voice.

I scrape the eggs over the pan. “Who can sleep with all this noise going on?”

I might be able to sleep through Kaleb, but I definitely can’t sleep through Noah.

I look over at Jake as he rubs his thumb up and down one of the keys, Kaleb’s warm fury playing behind his eyes.

Their noise is different than Noah’s. It’s silent but deafening.

I drop my gaze again, heat spreading across my face as I traipse barefoot to the fridge once more and grab the cheese, grating a handful over the eggs and stirring as I turn off the heat. His eyes are boring into me. I can feel it, and every inch of my skin is alert. I squeeze my eyes shut for a split moment, warmth spreading low in my belly.

Some melted cheese gets on my fingers, and I hiss at the burn. Quickly, I lick it off my forefinger and suck it off my thumb, piling half the eggs on a plate for Jake.

“Here you go,” I only manage a whisper as I lift it up.

But he’s suddenly there, behind me. He takes the plate and sets it back down on the counter.

I freeze.

His chest covers my back, and I smell him like I did today when we fished, warm skin touching mine and tingles spreading down my arms and thighs, only now, I don’t think I’ll run away.

I want to feel this.

“Why’d you run from me today at the lake?” he asks.

I remain quiet.