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At my direction, Seb gets the keys from the nappy bag and lets us into the house. He knocks each light on as we pass through the house, and I feel right at home. But as we come to the kitchen, I freeze when I see the countertop.
“What?” Seb demands, storming in front of me as he scans the area for whatever has me scared.
I take a deep breath, examining the scene in front of me to see if anything else is out of place. It’s exactly how I left it—pristine—except for one missing detail.
The pie I made… is gone.
Seb steps further in front of me, his arms going back to hold Phoebe and I within his reach, and lets out what I can only describe as a warning growl.
I don’t know what it’s meant to do, but Topher doesn’t come rushing in, so it wasn’t to alert his brother.
“What?” he asks again, this time in a whisper, as he turns to face me. I can see the concern etched into his face, his eyes flickering between hazel and green. He looks deadly, and I’d be terrified of him if I didn’t know that this fierce intensity was on my behalf.
“The pie.” I can feel his patience waning, and I grimace as I look up at him. “I made a pie before everything kicked off… and had left it out to cool. But it’s gone.”
He furrows his brow and looks around the kitchen as if it’s going to be hidden behind a flower pot or something.
“Hm.” He storms forward and opens the fridge door before shrugging and looking back at me. “There’s a pie in here.”
I frown, chewing on my bottom lip as panic starts to build inside my chest. It’s an uncomfortable pressure that just won’t go away because I know that I didn’t put it in the fridge.
Seb tilts his head. “Could you have put it here and just forgot in the fuss?”
“No!” I shake my head, and my eyes widen as he pulls it out the fridge. This is the exact one I made—minus the quarter of a slice that’s gone. “I didn’t eat any of it, either, Seb.” He raises a brow in question as if I would’ve forgotten. Whilst it might be in the realm of possibilities that I’d put the pie away and forget—I most definitely did not eat any of it.
I wouldn’t be this starving if I had.
We both look around the room, me warily and him with a keen eye, but there’s nothing to see. I can’t give him an answer.
The only thing I can think of is the police taking a slice, but when would they have had the opportunity for that?
They left when I did and wouldn’t have had the ability to get back inside without me here. What the fuck?
“Hm.” He tilts his head, and I’m not sure what he’s thinking or feeling since he doesn’t share. Instead, he closes the fridge and turns back to me. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” I murmur, looking down at Phoebe. My heart races, and my head snaps back in his direction. “But I don’t want that pie.”
Someone has been here. Whether it was one of the officers or a break-in...
But didn’t I overreact and think Phoebe was kidnapped?
Seb takes a hesitant step forward and places his hand in mine. Sparks tingle, increasing in intensity as we stand together, and I close my eyes, letting the comfort he’s offering wash over me.
I could’ve put the pie back in the fridge.
I probably did.
And honestly... I might’ve ate that slice, too.
It’s all fine. It’s all normal.
Seb’s steady presence helps me reach that calm state. “Once we’re home?—”
“This is my home,” I snap, and he nods.
“Understood, little mama,” he replies gently. He has a very soothing demeanour, but he’s also so powerfully intense. “Topher is not going to?—”
“What am I not going to do?” the man asks, walking into my home like he owns the place. He’s lost his suit jacket, and his sleeves are now unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbow. Honestly, it should be illegal to have forearms that look that good.
