Page 96 of The Thug And His Doll

“Daisy doesn’t hate anyone,” I say, knowing that in his case, that isn’t exactly true.

Dalton barks out a laugh. “Except for me…” he replies, his voice trailing off as he frowns.

“Look, I get why you did what you did. Firing the arsehole was a kindness because if I’d have gotten hold of him, I’d have kicked his arse.”

“There’s a but in there somewhere,” Dalton assesses.

“But,” I continue, “Dropping that bombshell in front of a restaurant full of people wasn’t the smartest move, mate.”

“She antagonised me,” he replies, but he has the good grace to look guilty.

“Even so. That was a shitty thing to do,” I point out.

“I tried to apologise, but she just accused me of being a fraud. Said I needed to take a long hard look at myself before interfering with her love life.”

“She’s got a point,” I say.

“Don’t start acting holier than thou with me, Drix. You’re just as bad when it comes to the men she dates.”

“Yeah, but I’m her big brother, it comes with the territory. What’s your excuse?”

Dalton grits his teeth, a muscle feathering in his jaw. It takes him a moment to respond, and I’m left wondering what, exactly, is the deal here.

“I’ve known Daisy as long as I’ve known you. I care about her, okay?”

“Care about her?” I question.

“Yeah, like a sister,” he adds pointedly. “Don’t go giving me that look. You’ve got no worries there.”

“Hey, I have an invested interest in Daisy’s happiness, and you, my friend, are not for her.”

“Did I say I was?” he snaps.

“So what’s the deal then?”

“It pisses me off that she chooses the wrong guy every single time. I don’t get it. She’s not fucking stupid, but she sure acts that way.”

“Thanks for that,” Daisy snarks, stepping back into the kitchen as she glares at Dalton.

“I didn’t mean—” Dalton begins, but Daisy cuts him off.

“I’m really not interested, Dalton. Just keep your opinions about me to yourself, stop interfering in things that don’t concern you, and,” she adds, glaring at me, “Stop trying to fix something that will never be repaired. Dalton is your friend, not mine. Stop trying to force us to like each other, because we’re never going to get along, okay?”

“Daisy, he’s my best friend and you're my sister,” I protest. “I don’t need you to be best mates, but a little civility would go a long way.”

“I can be civil,” Dalton offers.

“Really? So you’ll stop being an infuriating oaf who sticks his nose in my business then?”

“If that’s what you really want,” he retorts.

“Are you joking? I don’t need you to look out for me,” she replies with finger quotes. “What I need you to do is leave me the hell alone. Am I understood?”

“I hear you, loud and fucking clear,” he snaps back. “But the next time someone breaks your heart don’t come running to me for sympathy because you won’t get any.”

“I wouldn’t fucking dream of it!” she shouts, storming over to the counter and picking up the dish filled with carrots and parsnips. “Now shut up, and gather the rest of the dishes. Lia and Drix have cooked us a beautiful meal and I won’t let you ruin it for them.”

With that she heads towards the dining room, taking her wrath with her.

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