We all stare at her, even Sienna. “Jess? What did you do?”
Jess cackles like a damn witch. “I might have added something special. Just for them.”
Sienna swings her gaze across us. “Like what?”
Oh god. She has actually poisoned us.
“Just a bit of chili.” Jessalyn rolls her eyes. “Honestly. Bunch of babies.”
“Jess.” Sienna spins back to us, squinting at Tristan. “And you just ate it?”
“You made us cookies,” he says, his brows lowering. “I’d eat whatever you made me, Bonded, and I’d be grateful for every bite.”
Jess retches, but Sienna’s cheeks pink as she turns away. “Come inside,” she says, a huff in her voice. “Just for a minute. I’ll get you some water.”
I cough as I follow them inside, taking a seat at one of the tables. Emmett wanders over to us, grabbing a cookie from the tray. Jessalyn smacks it out of his hand, and he turns to her incredulously. “Am I not allowed one?”
“Not these.” Jess purses her lips. “There might be some more in the kitchen. Edible ones, I mean.”
Jax leaps up. “I volunteer as tribute.”
“Not a chance, asshole.” Jessalyn chases after him as he heads down the hall, their argument floating back to us as Emmett swivels his head to watch them.
Massaging my throat, I lean back, taking in the bare walls of the bar. An idea hits me.
“Hey – Emmett?” I rasp. When he turns to me, I motion at the blank space. “You mind if I do something with the walls? I’m a painter.”
Emmett looks dubious, but Gray leans in. “You definitely want him to decorate your bar.”
Sienna reappears, and I slide out to help her hand out bottles of water. I glug mine down in one, finally relieving the burn in my chest.
“You know, they were really nice cookies,” I say awkwardly. “Besides the chili.”
She shrugs. “Don’t read into it. I made too many.”
But she still brought us some.
“It means something to me.”
At that, she glances over at me, a smile playing around her lips. “Like… heartburn?”
My laugh shakes my chest. “Nah, that’s just a bonus.”
Jax and Jessalyn reappear, squabbling over the tray as Sienna wades in, confiscating it. We all take one as it’s passed around, settling into a strangely comfortable silence. Sienna takes a seat on my right, nibbling on a cookie of her own. She’s starting to fill out some, the sharpness of her cheekbones regaining some of their softness.
“Emmett,” I call, and he looks over. “What do you say? About the bar?”
He shrugs. “Have at it. But you’re painting it back if you fuck it up.”
Fuckingdeal. My hands itch as I look around at the blank canvas.
Sienna looks up at me as I stand. “Want to help me paint a bar?” I ask her with a crooked smile.
It’s not the most romantic proposal. But, an idea is forming in my head.
Her eyes widen a little. “Right now?”
“You don’t have to,” I assure her. “I just thought, maybe…,”
