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“I’m going to. And mitts and booties.”
“He’ll be purple from head to toe. Talon’s going to crap himself.”
“He’ll survive.” We grinned at each other.
Still grinning, Rio took my sewing box and bobbled it. “Shit.” He caught it before it hit the floor. When he sat back up, he returned it to the coffee table.
“I brought you something,” he said conversationally. “Don’t look now, though. I hid it beneath the thread.”
What the—?
“You need a weapon,” Rio said, his voice lower but still conversational.
A what? I stowed my pincushion in the box and shut the lid, trying not to look as shocked as I felt. I was pretty sure there were no cameras inside my rooms—just in the hall outside my door, and that one in the garden—but still...
“So.” Rio picked up the TV remote. “Wanna watch a movie? My turn to pick.”
“You picked the other night. And where the hell did you get a weapon?” I wanted to yell the question, but I kept my voice as low and unconcerned as his.
“Mrs. Park. She said to pass it to you just in case. Now, drop it.” He turned on the TV. “And you loved that movie, by the way. You said Henry Cavill was eye-candy.”
Playing along, I elbowed him in the side. “That was you. But this is crazy, you know. Just in case what? And what if they find it?”
They meaning Talon.
Rio dropped his voice again. “He’s not going to look in your goddamn sewing box. Now drop it, okay?” He laughed and pushed my elbow away. “Like you don’t think Henry is eye-candy, too.”
I released an aggravated breath. Rio had clearly dug in—pushing him wouldn’t get me anywhere.
“Henry Cavill is always eye-candy,” I said. “Dark-haired, long white hair, with a beard, without—doesn’t matter. It’s like a law of the universe. And fine. You can pick if you make the popcorn.”
“Deal.” He scrolled through the choices.
“The kind with real butter and Parmesan cheese,” I added. “I woke up this morning thinking about it.” Like really, really wanting it. “I almost had popcorn for breakfast.”
“You and your cravings. I can’t wait until you pop this kid out.”
I chuckled. He sounded so put upon.
Rio made the popcorn and we watched the movie—another one starring Henry Cavill.
As the credits rolled, Talon texted me to meet him at his apartment, and I texted back that I’d be there in five minutes. “Gotta go,” I told Rio.
By then I’d almost forgotten about the weapon, until he hugged me and whispered, “Don’t forget to look inside the sewing box. Talon’s okay, I think, but I want you to be able to protect yourself.”
I frowned. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
He lifted his palms. “Hey, I’m just the messenger,” he said and left.
I gave a frustrated growl, then with a shrug, took the finished pants and sewing box back to my walk-in closet, where I peeked into the box. A look beneath the spools of thread revealed a six-inch-long stainless-steel rectangle. It took me a beat to realize it was a closed switchblade.
I snatched it up and pressed the catch, instinctively keeping my back to the closet door. A long, sharp silver blade shot out.
Holy crap on a stick.
I hurriedly pressed the catch again, retracting the thin, wicked-looking blade. Heart pounding, I slipped the weapon back under the colorful spools, closed the lid and shoved the sewing box onto a shelf.
I stared at the box, breathing hard. I knew I should tell Talon, but Rio was only trying to protect me. I couldn’t do that to him.
