“No clue.” Kian rubs his upper arm. “It seems overkill. I guess he really wanted us to stay put.”
“This whole thing is overkill.” I hear the growl in my voice and sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be taking my frustration out on you.”
“It’s fine. You’re pissed off. I get it.”
It’s not okay. Kian is as much a victim of Rufus’s prank as I am. I still have no idea why Rufus involved his brother at all, let alone why we were handcuffed together. Maybe Rufus thought his brother would be a calming influence on me. Or at the very least, that his constant chatter would stop me from getting bored.
“Cards?” Kian suggests.
He wanted to play strip poker. Heat rushes through my veins. That was a joke too, wasn’t it? Just like him saying he’d give me a blow job. He’s not serious about any of it. Is he?
“It’s a shame the gravel is between us and the lake,” Kian says.
“Why?”
“We could go for a swim.” He gasps. “Moonlight skinny-dipping.”
That must be a joke too. He’s trying to make me laugh or something.
“I don’t know how to play cards,” I say.
He cracks his knuckles. “Well, it’s your lucky day. It just so happens I’m an excellent teacher. We’ll start with blackjack. It’s super easy.”
I don’t want to play cards, but Kian’s expression is far too earnest to resist. He’s trying his hardest to make the best of a bad situation, and all I’m doing is being a miserable git.
“All right.”
His eyes light up. “I’ll go find a deck of cards and meet you in the sitting room.”
“Sure. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Once he’s gone, I grip the edge of the mattress and roll my neck and shoulders. I’m so tense. I don’t know what was going through Rufus’s head when he decided to strand us here, but I do know his plan will fail. I’m not going to relax. I’m getting more stressed as the moments tick by. Poor Kian. He shouldn’t have to put up with me until his brother deigns to pick us up, but he’s stuck with me. Yet somehow he’s still smiling. And damn, he has a beautiful smile.
Chapter4
Kian
We play cards for about an hour, starting with blackjack. Next I teach Jett how to play solitaire. By the time my stomach rumbles, he seems a little calmer. At the very least, he’s less antsy, not tearing up the house, looking for his laptop, or glowering at turned-off TVs. We’re making progress.
“Keep playing,” I say. “I’ll make us some lunch.”
“Do you need help?”
“Nah, I’ve got it. You like pasta, don’t you?”
He nods.
“Green pesto?”
“Yes.”
I grin. “Great.”
I go to the kitchen. Cooking doesn’t take long, but I’m glad I took charge of the shopping before Rufus and I drove up here. If I’d left him to it, the cupboards would have been full of junk food. And he’d have bought lots of barbecue meat. Rufus loves barbecues. Granddad built a brick one outside. Come to think of it, alarm bells should have been going off in my head when Rufus let me buy healthy stuff without complaint. I should have been suspicious when he invited me up here. Being three years younger than Rufus has always put me on the outside of his circle of friends. But he’d insisted I tag along this weekend, and I love this place, so I didn’t think much of it. Not that I would ever have expected him to strand me here with Jett.
If we were in a cartoon, Jett would have a storm cloud above his head, and I’d have sparkles and rainbows above mine. It’s a good thing he’s sexy when he’s grumpy because that’s his default mood these days. While I don’t like that he has a reason to be grumpy, I do adore him for being his authentic self. He doesn’t put on an act or pretend to be perky and happy to make people more comfortable around him.
Once the pasta with pesto sauce is ready, I take two bowls of it through to the lounge. Jett is where I left him, sitting on the sofa, with the coffee table pulled close, playing solitaire.
