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“Nailed it. Are you jealous?”
Bash takes my left hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss my knuckles.
“Honestly? Only of his toy collection.”
“You like toys, Mr. Ettin…because I have quite the collection myself.”
He turns his head to stare at me, the pink glow of his eyes even brighter in the evening dimness.
“Don’t call me ‘Mr. Ettin’ unless you want me to take you over my knee and spank your ass. As for your collection, I would very much like to see it. Will you show me how you play with your toys?”
My mouth goes dry, but before I say anything, my cell buzzes.
I dig it out of my purse, seeing that it’s my neighbor, asking me to call her if I can.
Dialing her number, I press a hand against my stomach as worry settles in its depths.
“Hey, Mrs. Jenkins, is Jake alright?”
“Oh yes, dear, nothing to worry about there, but I am the bearer of bad news—your fridge isn’t working. Jake went to get a snack, and everything was warm. It must’ve died earlier in the day. I’ve thrown out all the food for you already.”
My mind runs a mile a minute as I calculate how much repairs will cost along with a whole month’s worth of groceries.
I thank my neighbor and hang up, slumping into the leather seat.
“Is Jake okay?” Bash asks gently.
“Yes. It’s my fridge. It kicked the bucket sometime today, and all the food inside is bad.”
“Please understand I’m not trying to be intrusive, but you taste devastated.”
“Taste?”
“Mhm. Emotions are to me what flavors are to you.”
“That’s…interesting.”
Bash shrugs. “Was this fridge special to you?”
“If you’re asking if I have some sentimental attachment to it, then no.”
“But you are upset?”
“Of course, I’m upset! Wouldn’t you be?”
He scratches his head, confusion clouding his expression.
“Um, no, I wouldn’t be.”
It occurs to me that this scenario wouldn’t be terribly distressing for him.
With his money, all Bash has to do is snap his fingers, and a whole new fridge full of food would be delivered.
“Never mind,” I mumble, trying to ignore the ache inside of me whenever I remember how rich he is.
And how damn poor I am.
“Ah, crap.”
