“What are you looking at me for?” Soren laughs. “She asked you, not me.”
“Uh…” Diego says again. “Sure. Come here.”
I walk over to Diego and turn to put my back to him. He carefully brushes my hair off my shoulders and down my back, and I wink at Soren when Diego’s fingertips brush my shoulders.
Everyone but Soren and I are tense as hell. When Dad walks into the room, I smile at him when he instantly cackles seeing Diego braiding my hair.
“Morning, Dad,” I say happily.
“Morning, Kiddo,” he laughs. “What did I miss?”
“I had to twist Diego’s arm to braid my hair,” I say.
“It’s true. I saw the whole thing,” Soren adds.
“You two are a fucking menace,” Diego grumbles as he braids my hair.
“Diego, can you rub my shoulders?” I ask innocently. “That cot was awful on my back.”
“Oh, poor you with your cot,” Soren laughs.
“You had that nice comfy table and the ceiling shackles,” I say with a grin. I am loving how tense everyone but Dad is.
“Talia,” Diego nearly whines.
“Yes?” I ask.
“You’re doing this shit on purpose.”
“Doing what?” I ask sweetly, maintaining my innocence. Diego groans dramatically, and Soren bursts into a fit of giggles, grinning at me. “What? He’s good with his hands.”
“Oh, my God!” Diego says desperately. “Girl, stop before you get me killed.”
“Stop what? Have you done something wrong, Diego?” Soren asks calmly. Diego doesn’t say shit; he just turns and walks out of the kitchen, making me cackle.
“Smart man.” Dad laughs as he pours coffee into a cup.
“Why?” Vaughn asks. Dad takes a sip of his coffee as he steps away from the counter to mask his shit-eating grin.
“Son, she’s just getting started,” Dad says, and I grin proudly.
“No,” Vaughn says, glaring at me.
“Yes,” I counter.
Caine groans, and Dad starts laughing again. Soren? Well, he looks like he’s having the time of his life.
I decide to let them men breathe for a moment and go to the living room to relax for a while. Everyone slowly filters in to sit with me, and Vaughn is the only one brave enough to sit next to me. I keep my eyes on the television as he lays his head back and sighs.
“Hard morning, Vaughn?” I ask, not looking at him.
“You’re a fucking brat,” he grumbles. “Look at me.”
“What’s up?” I ask, turning to smile at him.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?” I ask.
