She offers me her coffee, and I take it as she walks to her closet. She makes a bit of noise before she steps back out, holding a small handgun, and points it at me.
“I’m impressed,” I tell her.
“You want me to practice my shooting skills on you? I’m sure they’re better than my fork skills.” She winks.
“I’ll take your word for it.” She lowers the gun to her side. “You know how to shoot?”
“Of course I do. I was raised on a farm,” she scoffs.
“Are you actually any good, though?” I step closer to her.
“I bet I’m a better shot than you.” She grins, and I can’t help but lean down until our faces are only inches apart.
“I’d like to test that theory one day.”
“I’m sure you would.” She chuckles, then goes back to her closet and stores the gun in a safe I didn’t notice before. She walks back out, takes the coffee from me, and waves a hand toward the door. “Goodbye, Soren. Don’t come back.”
“But you’ll miss me too much if I don’t come back,” I tease.
“I will not, in fact, miss you too much. I won’t miss you at all.”
I move in and quickly steal a kiss, the split in my lip throbbing. Fuck, even with the hint of coffee lingering on her lips, she still tastes amazing. When I step back, her eyes are narrowed at me.
“Have a good day, Hurricane. I’ll see you Monday at work.”
She groans, and I step out of her house, closing the door slightly behind me. I flex my hand in the morning light, fingers curling slowly, tracing the faint puncture marks where Cressida’s fork dug in. A small reminder of her edge, which has a small grin tugging at my mouth.
A voice cuts through the quiet. “Soren, right?” I turn to see her ex-husband standing just a few feet away. His posture is rigid, shoulders squared like he’s bracing for a fight. His jaw is tight, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrow, sharp, and calculating, watching me like a predator sizing up prey.
No surprises here.
He’s been waiting for this moment. Waiting to challenge me.
“Yes.” My voice is steady, cold as steel.
He steps closer, eyes flashing. “You stayed the night with Cressida?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say flatly, with no hesitation.
He studies me, searching for a crack. But I don’t give him one. Inside, I’m already planning how to make it clear this isn’t a fight he wants.
He nods and glances around. “Taylor has told me about you. I don’t know if I feel comfortable with a man like you around my son.”
“I’m not planning to be around your son,” I tell him, then add, “What does it matter who is fucking your ex, or did you forget, you got engaged and didn’t even bother to tell the mother of your child?” I dig in a little further, because why the fuck not? I don’t owe him any explanation.
“That’s between us,” he adds.
“And who she fucks is between us, at this current time,” I throw back at him.
He just stares at me, and that’s when I notice his car still sitting out at the curb.
He knew I was in there.Interesting.
“How did you know I was here?”
“It was a guess.” That’s all the explanation he gives before he turns away and goes back to his car.
THIRTY-ONE
