“Peter,” the man grins back before popping a strawberry in his mouth.
James is leaning against the island counter and has a spread of bagels, fruit, and muffins in front of him.
Peter breaks away from me and walks up to the island, perusing the breakfast spread.
Swallowing down his strawberry, James turns his dark eyes on me and asks, “Hungry?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I quickly shake my head.
“Are you sure?” Peter asks, surprising me. He picks up a bagel and waves it at me. “You don’t want a bagel? Or a muffin?”
I shake my head again and both men frown at me like I just insulted them.
I don’t have to justify myself to them, yet I explain, “I already ate breakfast with the kids.”
“Ah,” Peter says and then he smiles. He takes a huge bite out of the bagel in his hand.
“Would you like some juice?” James asks, pointing to the pitcher on the counter.
I shake my head.
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I nod, totally feeling the irony of them offering me food and drink in my own kitchen.
“How do you like it?” James asks as he walks around the island and begins opening my cabinets.
Watching him root around in my stuff annoys the hell out of me, especially because he acts as if he has every right to do it. This is my house and these are my things, dammit.
But what can I do about it?
Stomp my foot and throw a tantrum?
“The mugs are in the cabinet above the dishwasher,” I tell him after he fails to find them on his own.
He flashes me a grin, “Thanks.”
He pulls down two mugs. One mug reads, World’s Greatest Mommy, while the other says Coffee Makes Me Poop.
“How do you like your coffee?” he repeats, walking up to the coffee maker and filling both cups from the carafe.
“Black.”
He pushes the World’s Greatest Mommy mug towards me, across the counter. I’ll have to get closer to them if I want it. Lifting the other mug up to his lips, he watches me with interest before taking a sip.
“Hey, where’s my cup?” Peter asks.
“Pour your own, I’m not your bitch,” James smirks at him.
Grumbling, Peter walks over to the cabinet, pulls a mug down and fills it from the carafe.
I shuffle forward, pick up my mug and shuffle back, cradling it in my hands.
James grins at me, looking amused as I finally take a sip of it. “The movers are on standby all day. Just tell them what you want boxed up and they’ll take care of it.”
I take another sip of my coffee, savoring the warm, bitter taste. I’ll need all the energy I can get to get through this.
“What exactly should I be packing up?” I ask.
Seriously, what’s the point of all of this?
“Anything you want to keep.”
James’ dark eyes harden towards me as I say, “This is my house and I want to keep it.”
He shakes his head and lowers his cup to the counter. “Lucifer wants you to pack your things. His orders are final. You will not be coming back.”
So far, I think I’ve been holding it together pretty well. I mean, a stranger has entered my house, forced my husband out, and thinks he now owns me and my children. Given everything that’s going on, I’d say I’ve been pretty damn level-headed about all of this.
But having James, another stranger, tell me I will not be coming back to my own house just makes me snap. Maybe it’s the way he says it, like he doesn’t expect me to protest or put up a fight about it, like he’s taking my cooperation for granted.
Or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s walking around my house like he owns it that pushes my last button.
I launch my cup of hot coffee at his head and he ducks just in time. The cup goes soaring over his head and smashes against a cabinet.
“Fucking hell,” he curses and straightens back up, staring me down.
I’m frozen, rooted to my spot. Did I just do that?
Our eyes meet and I’m so upset, so freaked out about everything, about what I just did, my chest is tight and I feel like I can’t catch my breath.
Are they going to hurt me now?
Why the fuck did I just do that? Why am I so stupid?
My eyes prickle with tears but I don’t want to cry, dammit. I don’t want to give these assholes that satisfaction. They’re so not worth it.
I manage to suck in a big breath and just hold it, keeping it all in.
Peter erupts into loud, booming laughter and a moment later James joins him.
All at once I can move again.
I take off running, as fast as my feet will carry me. I fly down the hallway and hit the stairs that lead to the upper floor.