“Go on. Try it.”
I narrow my eyes at him and he just smirks.
“Fine,” I huff, successfully baited.
I pick out a small piece of chopped chili and place it on my tongue.
It’s sweet, exactly as I expected from earlier.
I chew as Cole watches with an expectant look in his eyes, waiting for what he knows is coming.
And then it hits.
“Oh, holy hell.” I gasp when the fire strikes. “What on earth?” I ask as I rush for the milk carton.
“Told you,” Cole states smugly.
“Did they put a death chili in that packet or something?” I ask, after I’ve chugged half a glass of milk.
“How many have you put in the rest of the food?” Cole asks.
“But I tasted them.”
“What if you tasted the only mild one, and the rest are going to knock our socks off?”
“Dad won’t notice,” I say confidently.
“He’s a fan of spicy food?”
“Not really. But you’re here. He probably won’t even notice that I cooked.”
“Trust me, if everything is laced with that, he’ll notice.”
“This really could be a birthday to remember.” I laugh as I place my glass in the dishwasher.
“So how much would you like me to put in?” Cole asks, returning to the task at hand.
“Less than half of that.”
“That much?”
“What’s wrong, Handsy? Don’t think you can take it?” I taunt.
His eyes flash with something as I use the nickname the rest of the world knows him as.
“Don’t you worry; I can handle anything.”
“That’s good because I’m pretty sure that engine you can hear is Dad arriving home. Are you ready for a night of being worshipped?”
Cole cocks his head to the side. “Can’t say that being worshipped by your father is all that high on my to-do list. Someone else, maybe.”
My heart pounds. He means me, right?
There’s a commotion at the front door as Mom greets Dad, and it forces us to end that conversation right there.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Mom coos as they move closer.
“Another one? I thought you gave me all my gifts this morning,” Dad responds.
