“Just put him out of his misery, Arlow,” Helen whispers.
Her son looks like all his trust has been broken when he looks at his mother.
“I thought I was your favorite, Mom.”
“Oh, child. You and I both know that none of you are my favorite.”
Myla snorts and it only makes Helen laugh harder.
Chaos shakes his head but he never once looks away from the threatening red sauce dancing above his head.
To be honest, he’s too sweet to ever harm. Not even with food.
Gently I pull the red liquid back to its place in the pot in front of me. A visible sigh leaves Chaos, lowering his stiffly held shoulders.
“I knew my girl cared too much to truly hurt me. Unlike some people.” His gaze cuts to his mother, and it only makes the woman laugh even more.
The possessive way his hands encircle my hips makes me wonder if he even realizes the way he touches me. If it’s a conscious claim or if it’s natural for him. It feels natural. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to be held in his hands.
When I realize how smugly the two women are looking at me as I cling to Chaos, a smile tilts my lips. It feels good being here. It feels like a home. A home I’m almost a part of.
I turn to grab the big bowl of salad off the table. Big slices of tomatoes and onions color the bowl and I only manage to take one step before Chaos steals it from my hands. If it wasn’t all vegetables, I’d think he was actually taking it for himself but I know better.
The man isn’t going to risk my wrath for some lettuce.
“Let me help you.” His palm pushes over my hip, tingling a sweet feeling of being cared for all through me. Another bowl is scooped off the counter before he heads toward the front door. I grab a big tray of stuffed mushrooms and trail after him. We pass Sinister as he dozes on the couch.
Being a perfect gentleman must really take it out of him.
Faded pink and orange hues of sunlight casts across the green grass. Long tables run the side of the house, and that’s where Chaos and I start placing food at the center. There are enough wooden seats to accommodate two dozen people. I know Helen has a large family, but my stomach twists at the possibility of other people joining us.
Rime and Kain sit at the far end of the table and between them is Alloex. They’re speaking quietly as they seem to be helping him with an assignment. Rime’s words are a steady stream of information, his arm draped across the back of Alloex’s chair as he explains something in detail.
My brows raise as I wonder what they’re discussing. I move my tray of food closer to them and character names and comparisons of what the analogy of the story actually represents are a low rumbling explanation that hums against Rime’s lips.
And I’ve never been more aroused by words in my entire life.
Literature. Rime is explaining literature like it’s his first language.
When my hip hits hard on a chair, clattering it loudly against the table, the three of them look up. A knowing smile pulls at Kain’s lips, but the serious expression on Rime’s face never changes. Pale blue eyes look calculating as they study me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes narrowing on me and my lingering behavior.
“I didn’t know you liked to read.”
“I used to.” He keeps that suspicious look held in his cold but beautiful gaze. “When I was alone, I read a lot to pass the time. I’d keep books with me as I travelled around the North.”
I’ve got to have a serious talk with my heart and the way it loves him. But goddess he makes it so damn easy to want to love him.
“Does that … interest you, Arlow? Rime reading books, that interests you?” Kain has a similar narrowed look in his eyes, but his smile is so much wider I know he knows the way my insides are fluttering and tightening and all but roaring with desire. It’s been a hectic day for my sex drive. It’s not my fault.
“It’s not that interesting.” I shrug carelessly as if I can’t be bothered to give it much thought and it makes the hint of a smile tilt Rime’s lips.
I love when he smiles. Even if it is from my ridiculousness.
“It smells like it’s not that interesting.” Rime nods, his gaze locked on me, that wicked smirk of his pulling at his lips.
My thighs shift, and I hate how transparent their shifter abilities make every. They’re in my senses, they’re in my thoughts, can I not be turned on in peace?
