Page 101 of When He Dares


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Her brow arched. “Nap?”

“I told you I was taking this ass tonight,” he said, sweeping his finger between the soft globes. “I wasn’t kidding.” To claim every part of her was a craving so primitive it badgered him constantly.

“You’re letting me ‘nap’ because you like startling me awake by touching my no-no places,” she accused.

He grinned. “Not one part on your body is a no-no place for me. I get to touch, taste, and take whatever I want.”

“Well, yeah, there is that.”

“Hmm, so nap.”

“Okay.” A put-out response, but she closed her eyes and let sleep pull her under.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The following afternoon, Quinley cast an affronted look at the female sitting across from her in the diner. “I don’t know why you keep glaring at me like that.” It wasn’t called for.

Adaline angrily plucked the shaker from the center of the table and sprinkled salt over her meal. “I specifically told you not to get shot again. I was very clear on that.”

Oh, well if she was clear on that …

“But did you listen to me? Noooo.” Adaline sprinkled a little salt over the twins’ fries and then put the shaker back down with a thump. “It really wasn’t too much to ask.”

Sigh. Of course, Quinley wasn’t at all surprised by Adaline’s behavior. She’d known that both her sisters would be furious on hearing of the second shooting. Adaline was prone to overreacting when super angry or extremely worried—the sniper incident was bound to make her feel both.

That was why Quinley had chosen to spill the news in public. Her oldest sister was less likely to wave her dramatic flag around if they weren’t alone. An obvious choice of location had been one of the pride-owned eateries, since it would be safer. So she’d invited her family to meet her and Isaiah at the diner, and they’d happily accepted the invitation.

While they’d waited in the wide booth for their orders to arrive, Quinley had brought them up to speed. She hadn’t had to be mindful of her wording for two reasons. One, the twins—who were snugly seated between their parents—wore headphones; their attention glued to the screen of their tablets. Two, because the only people around them were Olympus Pride members; there wasn’t a human in sight.

Her plan had proven to be a good one. Rather than flying off the handle, Adaline had instead spent a whole ten minutes stewing in silence. Meanwhile, the others had posed questions at both Quinley and Isaiah, looking for more information.

Apparently, Adaline’s period of silence was now over.

“You said it wouldn’t happen again,” the woman snapped. “I took you at your word.”

Quinley exchanged a look with Isaiah, who sat as close to her as it was possible to be without them sharing clothes. It was clear to see by the tight set of his jaw that he did not like her sister’s tone. Her inner cat wasn’t too fond of it either.

Neither were the nearby Olympus Pride members, if their impatient expressions were anything to go by. Adaline’s words were loud enough that they didn’t get lost beneath the squeaking of stools, the clinking of cutlery, the sizzling of meat, and the music playing low.

The diner was as busy as always. Some patrons sat at booths while others were positioned on stools at the long counter. Waitresses moved back and forth, the rubber soles of their pumps making slight squeaking sounds against the checkered tile floor. Various food smells dominated the space, particularly that of hot oil, coffee, and frying onions.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” clipped Adaline.

Will sighed at her. “You can’t actually hold her responsible for what happened, Ade.”

“Oh, I can.”

“Not rationally,” Quinley insisted, forking some coleslaw. “Look, I know you’re upset—”

“‘Upset’ is a minor word for what I’m feeling.” Adaline angrily bit into a slice of cucumber.

“But that doesn’t give you the right to speak to Quinley that way,” said Isaiah, his voice cool and calm and laced with a velvety warning.

Will predictably stiffened, his protective instincts ruffled. But he didn’t try defending Adaline, likely because he knew she was in the wrong.

“Yeah, you’re being a total drama queen, Ade,” said Lori, sitting beside Quinley as she dug into her spicy chili. “When Raya got shot by my cousin years ago, you held him accountable. Maybe do the same here with Quinley’s shooter.”

Adaline blinked, her brow wrinkling. “Raya was shot?”

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