“Was he?” I bite out, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
“Nah. He couldn't hit the broad side of a barn from ten feet away.” She laughs. “But he was sweet about it and kept encouraging me to ‘try harder.’”
Jealousy flares sharp in my gut. I fucking hate hearing about that prick. “Sounds like a real winner.”
“He was kind. Gentle.” Her voice softens in a way that pisses me the fuck off. “He thought I needed protection from everything, including Da.”
“And you liked that white knight bullshit?”
“I thought I did. It was nice having someone who wanted to take care of me.” She looks up, eyes spitting blue sparks. “Turns out I prefer men who think I can handle myself.”
“Well, it’s a good fucking thing you married one then.”
“Did I?” She cocks her head to the side.
“You think I don't know exactly how dangerous you are?” I lean forward, voice dropping. “News flash. I know you could kill me six different ways with the shit in this kitchen right now. And it gets me hard instead of making me wanna lock up the knives.”
Her eyes widen and her breathing hitches. “Why?”
I smile. “Because I like my women deadly.”
“Your women?” She rolls her eyes.
“My woman. It’s just you now, princess.”
The possessiveness in my voice surprises me. But her eyes narrow in response.
“I don't belong to you.”
“Keep telling yourself that shit.”
Her lips pull into a tight line and for a second, I think she’s going to lash out. But then she shocks the hell out of me.
“Boxing. Krav Maga,” she says, switching subjects entirely. “Da made sure I could handle myself in a fight.” She flexes her fingers. “I haven't sparred with anyone in over a month. My hands are getting soft.”
I drag my spoon around the plate. “There's a gym in the building with a full setup.”
That perks her up. “Really?”
“Yep. Forty-second floor. Bags, ring, weights. Private access.” Her face lights up. “You wanna check it out?”
“You'd let me?”
“It's not me letting you, princess. I’m telling you it’s there and giving you something to beat theshit out of that isn't me.”
She grins, and fuck if that expression doesn't make my dick twitch. “You might regret that.”
“I'll take my chances.”
“Why?”
“Because watching you pace around here like a caged animal is driving me insane.”
We eat in silence for a while, but it's charged as hell. Like we're both thinking about shit we shouldn't.
When she's done, she carries her plate to the sink. I follow, and we end up working side by side, her washing, me drying.
“This is weird,” she says, handing me a plate.
