“I’m not sure,” I tease. “I can’t tell because your yelling is wimpy.”
His eyes skim over me in a way that heats my skin, but his expression remains, as ever, inscrutable.
I turn to Belle. “What do you think?” I give the thumbs-up sign, then the thumbs-down sign.
Belle shakes her head. “Poppy is right.” Her thumb turns down.
“You’re a traitor,” he grumbles, looking wounded. But he doesn’t fool me. Or Belle. She giggles.
“It doesn’t matter. No one can hear us anyway.” I sink down to the floor and try to rein in the tulle of my skirt as best as possible. I pat the empty spot next to me. “We might as well make ourselves comfy.”
Ronan Masters eyes the floor dubiously, but he sits with surprising grace. Good core muscle control does that for you.
“At least the lights are still on,” I say.
Ronan frowns. “You had to say that. You’ve cursed us.”
We go silent, waiting for the lights to dim, but they don’t.
I stick out my tongue. “See, Mr. Doom and Gloom?”
“Did you just stick out your tongue at me? What are you? Seven years old?”
“I’m seven and a half. What’s wrong with being seven?” Belle asks him, affronted.
“Yeah, what’s wrong with being seven?”
He shakes his head.
I look away from his too-handsome face because it does things to me. I’m annoyed at myself for being so affected. He probably has girls throwing themselves at him all the time. I refuse to be a cliché.
“I’m hungry,” Belle says, on the edge of a whine.
“It won’t be long.” Ronan wipes his daughter’s glistening forehead. It’s getting hot in here.
I dig through my oversized handbag. Bright yellow and decorated with pom-poms, it’s hideous. But it was a gift, and I’m sentimental that way. Plus, it has a fabulous number of pockets. I’m not saying I’m a hoarder, but if there’s ever an apocalypse, my ugly bag and I will have what we need to survive.
“What are you looking for?” Ronan asks me.
“Reinforcements,” I say. “Aha! I knew I had snacks!” I pull out two granola bars and wave them in the air.
“Can I have one, please?” Belle asks.
“Of course, little one. Here’s one for you and one for your dad.”
I swear his stomach rumbles, but he holds up his hand. “You can have it. Or save it for Belle, in case she’s still hungry later.”
I shrug and put it back into my purse with a small smile. So he’s not selfish. My ex would have devoured that granola bar in a hot second, not worrying about who else was hungry.
I open the package for Belle and hand it to her. My smile widens at the way she attacks it, daintily, but with enthusiasm.
“What do you say, Belle?” Ronan prompts.
“Thank you,” she says between bites. It sounds more like, “mrph phew.”
“Thanks for the snack,” he says grudgingly. “She didn’t have much to eat tonight. We’d planned on ordering room service when we got back here.”
I shrug, trying not to get caught up by the blue of his eyes and the long sweep of his lashes, so much darker than his golden hair. “I always carry food. ’Cause food is great. Drink?” I pull out a stainless-steel water bottle.
