“You don’t need to explain yourself, but the kitchen’s really busy. I’ll open the door, but let’s make it quick, deal?”
In under three minutes, I’d slapped pink frosting all over Adalyn’s cake, and then I’d spent an extra minute smoothing it over.
“You’ve got serious skill, woman.” Miles grinned at the uneven globs of pink icing.
As I sucked the streaks of sugary butter off my fingertips, I laughed. “Looks homemade by a toddler, but hey, it tastes divine.”
His smile flickered, and one of his eyes twitched.
I leaned over and scooped up my bag from the floor, then seized the bowl. The metal spatula dinged against the glass. “Mission accomplished. Now, onto my next mission—clothes and hair.”
Miles’s gaze dropped to the wooden handle of the spatula, and then he was taking it from me. “You’re getting frosting on your sweater.”
I relinquished the bowl. “Should I get the cake?”
“No. Leave it here, so it can set.” He nodded toward the door for me to go ahead of him.
I removed the broken wine rack he’d used as a doorstop, then held the door open for him. After we’d climbed the stairs, he dropped the bowl in one of the kitchen’s deep sinks, then walked me back out into the dining room.
The festive decorations reminded me of our semi-formal high school graduation party at Seoul Sister. I’d danced the night away with Adalyn and Bea because Grant didn’t dance, nor did most of the other male shifters in attendance. Even the human ones had preferred chugging beers and hanging with their buddies.
One week after the party, Grant and I had crashed, putting an end to my dancing days, but here I was, eighteen months later, standing on two legs, about to dance a new night away.
I sighed. “I wish Bea would come out tonight.”
He leaned against the restaurant’s glass door and crossed his defined forearms, bare skin not even pebbling. How was this man never cold? “You wouldn’t know if she’s pregnant, would you?”
My lips parted in surprise. “Pregnant?”
“Stomach issues. Bedridden. Quarantining up in the mountains.”
Couldshe be pregnant? Heartbreak was still more likely, but what if my brother hadn’t told us the full story?
“Nate hasn’t mentioned anything?”
“No, but he’s not the type to talk about his relationship.” I nibbled on my lip. “You said she was up in the mountains?”
“Yeah. In Great Aunt Mary’s hunting cabin. Bea inherited the place, what with being Mary’s favorite.”
I sensed resentment. Then again, favoritism among family never boded well. “Could you give me the address?”
“No address. But I can message you the GPS coordinates. Or we could head there together tomorrow? I was going to go after brunch. She keeps texting me that she’s okay, doing a little better every day, but it’s been three weeks, and I’m getting worried.” He palmed the back of his fade. “Either way, I need to check up on her.”
“Tomorrow works for me.”
My assent freed his expression of its earlier tension. I hoped he didn’t think tomorrow would be some sort of a date or anything. I decided not to clarify in case that wasn’t where his mind had gone.
I really hoped that wasn’t where his mind had gone.
On my way to the hair salon, I tried Nate’s cell. It rang twice before he picked up. I was almost surprised he’d answered, not that my brother was in the habit of screening my calls. “Hey, so I was just with Miles, and he’s really worried about Bea.”
“Nik, this isn’t the greatest time.”
“Just tell me one thing. Why doesn’t he know you two broke up? Did Bea not tell her family?”
A deep whine erupted from his side of the phone. I was guessing he was at the bunker. “She hasn’t, no. She wanted to get her head together before she shared the news. So don’t tell Miles anything. She’ll call him when she’s ready.”
“It’s between you and Bea, Nate.” I was about to tell him about our plan to visit her tomorrow but bit my tongue. He’d probably ask us not to go, and deep down, I wanted to see Bea. She might not have been part of my family anymore, but I still cared about her.
