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“Do you have a first name?” she asked.
“Rook.” He paused, his voice turning lower, softer. "I met you at your father's funeral?"
“Oh.” Her face twisted in confusion, though her cheeks reddened. She was probably remembering what exactly had happened — and her role in it. "I'm sorry, I..."
"I'm here to speak to your sister," his dark gaze swept towards me. "Alone."
"I don't think that's a good idea." She came to stand beside me, embarrassment gone, replaced by indignation from his rudeness. Maybe that had been his intent.
"Whatever you need to say to me, you can say it with her present." We faced him down, united.
Dark eyes met mine, and for some reason, I blushed. What was it about this guy that made me feel so intimidated?
He cleared his throat. “It's about the estate.”
“The will?” My voice squeaked. How did he know?
He stared at me blankly, but his shoulders tensed. "What do you mean?”
"Oh." Thank God. He didn't know. “Nothing." I quickly responded, turning to stir the milk, trying not to reveal my mortification. It only grew as I remembered the heat was off.
"Tell me.” He walked towards me, his strides predatory, like a wolf stalking his prey, strong and confident.
"No, nothing.”
“What do you mean you’re here for the estate,” Callie interjected. “Shouldn’t we have our lawyer here for that?”
“You won’t need him. Not now, at least.”
“Says you.”
A chill swept through the air.
I turned on the stove again, suddenly wanting my own hot chocolate. "Callie. You can go back to bed. It's okay." I didn’t want her to worry about this. She had her whole life ahead of her to be an adult; I wanted her to stay young as long as possible.
"But I--"
"Really," I bopped her hips with mine, scooting her towards the door. She giggled, grabbing the island, trying to hang on for her dear life, but I was stronger. “Besides, I’m the boss now, remember?
“You said we were going to be a team!” She was slowly loosing her grip.
“I changed my mind.”
She groaned. “It’s not fair.”
“The fair always made you throw up.”
She made a face, and I slapped her on the booty, shoving her playfully out the door. “Get moving. Yikes!” The milk was bubbling over the pan. I rushed towards it but he made it before me, a washrag already in his hand. How did he do that? He turned off the heat, then methodically wiped up the milk.
“Go to bed, Callie!”
“Ugh,” she stomped a foot, huffing lightheartedly as she walked off. “Fine. But I won’t go to sleep until I know you’re okay.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll scream if he gets any bad ideas.”
He turned away from me but not before I caught the amused look on his face.
The kitchen grew silent as I prepared the chocolate milk. Now that Callie was gone, he suddenly seemed larger, suffocating all the air from the large kitchen. He was taller than I remembered, and a shiver worked its way up my spine at his presence at my back.
