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I frown slightly. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I am, and despite the fact that I don’t want to be on a team and that they’re all assholes, one in particular,” the way she says it fondly rather than because she’s pissed off tells me a lot about how she feels about them. She continues, “They are extremely good at what they do, and I’m starting to think that they might actually have my back,” she explains, sounding confused by her own reply. “They’re nice.”

“Trust your instincts. It will be okay, take it slowly,” I tell her.

“Thanks, Ever. I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to go. I’ll fill you in properly when I can,” she says. “Love ya.”

“Stay safe, love ya too,” I reply, and she hangs up.

Well, that wasn’t on my bingo card for this morning.

Or ever, actually. I honestly didn’t think that Rylie would ever willingly work with a team, and the fact that she is and that she likes them is brilliant. Even though she won’t actually admit that she likes them. It’s closer than she has ever gotten to willingly working with a team.

I really hope that for her sake, she’s found her people and her place to belong. She deserves to have people who will fight for her and choose her every single damn time.

If they hurt her, I’ll end them, or at least make them wish that they had been ended.

Rylie has had an extremely difficult life.

She deserves to find her happy.

Speaking of which, I want to go and find one of my reasons to be happy.

I may also be a little bit snacky.

Jumping up off my bed, I venture out of my room for the first time since breakfast and then head downstairs. I love being at home with nowhere to go and getting to wear my absolute favorite comfiest cozy clothes and fluffy socks.

Of course, fluffy socks.

“Hey,” Rafe greets me at the bottom of the stairs. “I was just heading to make dinner, want to join me?”

“Sure,” I reply, following him into the kitchen. “You know you don’t have to make dinner every night. We could take it in turns to make dinner.”

I try not to laugh as Rafe immediately grimaces.

“Erm, in theory that’s a great idea. In practice, though, there are a couple of issues. One, some of the guys are horrendous in the kitchen, and I’ve tried to teach them, they just don’t get it. Two, I love cooking, and if we weren’t agents, that’s what I would be doing, and finally, I really don’t like other people in my kitchen. Nothing is put back where it lives, and well, yeah,” he explains, still grimacing at the thought of other people cooking in his kitchen on a more regular basis.

“That’s okay, Big Guy, I just wanted to offer again and make sure that you really don’t mind and still want to do it,” I reply with a smile as I hold onto his arm and reach up on my tiptoes so I can kiss his cheek. He still has to bend down slightly so I can do it.

“Thanks, Baby, but I really do find it relaxing. The kitchen is my happy place,” he reassures me. “Having said all of that, I would really appreciate some help to make dinner. There’s a lot of chopping involved with this one.”

“Of course,” I agree easily. Cooking with Rafe is one of my favorite things to do. “What are we making?”

“Tagine,” Rafe replies, his expression laced with excitement. I love the way that he gets excited about a new recipe. As we walk into the kitchen, he continues explaining, “A quick one, so not that traditional, and I’m tweaking it slightly because some of us don’t like certain things, so I guess I’m making a stew. But it will have similar herbs and spices to a traditional tagine, and we’re having flatbreads. I found a recipe where you make them with yogurt, which I thought was really cool. I’m also going to make some dips, and then a few other picky bits that aren’t of the same cuisine but should go with the rest of the flavors and taste nice.”

“Oh wow, that sounds delicious,” I say, and look around the kitchen with no idea where I’m supposed to start. Looking back at a smiling Rafe, I say, “Tell me what to do.”

“Can you make your tzatziki dip?” He asks me.

I nod. “Absolutely. Let me just run upstairs and get my phone. The basic recipe is on there, and I tweak it, but it’s been a while since I made it, so I’ll need a refresher on the base.”

“Okay, I’ll get started on the other things,” he replies with a smile.

It doesn’t take long until we’re in a proper rhythm and moving around the kitchen, helping each other, tasting things, and we even manage to get a dance in there too.

I love dancing with Rafe.

We send a message in the group thread to say that food is ready and then start dishing everything up and laying the table.