I watched her look at him and then at the space between us. Then at my hands like she was checking for blood that wasn’t there yet.
That told me more than anything Luke had said.
“Dad needs you outside,” she said to him.
Luke’s eyes lingered on her. “Does he?”
“Yeah.”
The word shook so faintly I almost missed it.
Luke didn’t. His smile got softer and crueler. “Sure,” he said, moving toward her. He passed close enough that his shoulder nearly brushed hers, and Bliss held perfectly still until he was outside.
The second the door swung shut behind him, she exhaled. Not with relief, but survival.
I took one step toward her. She shook her head before I could speak.
“Don’t.”
“Pip.”
Her eyes flashed, panic and warning twisting together. “Please don’t.”
The please did more damage than anything else could have.
I stopped.
Outside, someone yelled about dessert. Daniel laughed. The kids shrieked. The grill hissed like it had committed another crime.
Inside, Bliss stood with her back to the door and her right hand in her pocket. I looked at that hand then at her face.
“Is he the one?” I asked quietly.
She went completely still, the answer before the lie. “Cade,” she whispered.
“Is Luke the ex?”
Her throat worked. She looked away, and the movement made something vicious and helpless collide in my chest.
“Don’t ask me that here.”
Not no. Not you’re wrong. Not what are you talking about? Don’t ask me that here.
I nodded once, even though every instinct in my body rejected the idea of letting it go. “Fine,” I said. “Not here.”
Her eyes came back to mine, glossy with something she refused to let fall. “I mean it.”
“So do I.”
That scared her. I saw it immediately. Not because she was afraid of me. Because she understood, maybe before I did, that if I decided Luke Dempsey was a threat, there would come a point where restraint stopped being a virtue and started being a leash.
I softened my voice because of that. Because of her. “I’m not going to make a scene in your father’s kitchen.”
Her mouth trembled once before she pressed it into something steadier. “Thank you.”
I hated that she was thanking me for doing the bare minimum. I hated that some part of her had expected anything else.
The back door opened again, and Katie appeared with chocolate on her face and both hands sticky.
