The front door opens, voices drifting toward us. Ryan’s high-pitched chatter, my mother’s gentle responses. They’ll be in the kitchen any minute, and Rayne looks delightfully rumpled.
I step close to Rayne, cupping her face between my hands. “This isn’t over,” I promise, my voice low and fierce. “We will finish what we started.”
She stares up at me, trembling, lips still swollen from my kisses. Torn between wanting to run and wanting to drag me back against her.
“Daddy!” Ryan’s voice calls out, closer now. “Check out my new Godzilla toys! Yes, I said toys. We couldn’t find Mothra, but Nana bought me Rodan and Mechagodzilla.”
I brush my thumb across Rayne’s lower lip again. “We’ll talk later.”
I step away just as Ryan bursts into the kitchen, a whirlwind of energy and excitement, leaving Rayne breathless against the counter, watching me with eyes that can’t decide between desire and panic.
4
RAYNE
Istand frozen against the counter, frantically smoothing my borrowed pajamas while my face burns hot enough to fry an egg. My hair’s a wild mess, my lips still tingling from Ronan’s kisses. If there was ever a moment I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole, it’s now.
Like, please.
A little boy rockets into the kitchen, clutching plastic monster toys in both hands. His dark hair and eyes make him a miniature version of Ronan. There’s just no mistaking whose child he is. He skids to a stop when he sees me, eyes widening with curiosity rather than suspicion.
“Who are you?” he asks, tilting his head.
Before I can stammer out an answer, an older couple appears in the doorway. The woman carries takeout bags that smell like heaven, while the man behind her holds a drink carrier with coffee cups. They both freeze mid-step, taking in the scene: me, disheveled in borrowed pajamas; Ronan, whose usualcomposure seems slightly cracked; and the kitchen counter where, minutes ago, we were about to?—
Oh God. I’m going to die of embarrassment right here.
“Well, hello there,” the woman says, recovering first. Her smile is warm and genuine, completely at odds with the awkwardness of the situation. “I didn’t know Ronan had a guest.”
Ronan clears his throat. "Mom, Dad, this is Rayne Silva. Rayne, these are my parents, Thomas and Maggie."
His parents. His parents are here. And I’m wearing pajamas with my hair looking like I’ve been thoroughly kissed because I HAVE been thoroughly kissed by their son, who purchased me at an auction less than twenty-four hours ago.
“It’s lovely to meet you," Maggie says, setting down the bags on the counter and approaching with outstretched hands. When she takes mine, her grip is firm and warm.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, my voice embarrassingly squeaky.
Thomas nods at me, his weathered face creasing with a slight smile. “Morning,” he says simply, setting down the coffee.
Ryan tugs at Ronan’s pants. “Daddy, is she your friend? Can she see my toys?”
Ronan ruffles his son’s hair, and the tenderness in the gesture catches me off guard. “Her name is Rayne, and yes, she’s my friend. And I’m sure she’d love to see your toys. After breakfast.”
Maggie’s already unpacking the bags, revealing stacks of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns. The smell hits me, and my stomach growls loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“Perfect timing,” Maggie laughs. “Let’s get this food on plates before it gets cold. Ryan insisted on your favorite diner, Ronan.”
“Best pancakes in the state,” Ryan tells me solemnly, as if sharing a profound secret. He inches closer to me. “Do you like pancakes? Which ones? Blueberry, strawberry, with peanut butter and whipped cream?”
“I love pancakes,” I say. “I’m not a fan of whipped cream, though. Maybe with fresh fruits.”
“With syrup or without?” His eyes narrow, like this is a test.
“With. Lots of it.”
He grins, displaying a missing front tooth. “Me too! Daddy says I use too much, but Nana says there’s no such thing.”
“Your Nana sounds very wise.”
