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But then, she’d missed his exasperating, infuriating brother just the same.
“He was fine after I convinced him there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d cut your crowning glory.” Raeg slid his brother a mocking look. “I’m disappointed he didn’t know better at the time though.”
Mr. Know-It-All, she thought. No wonder Falcon was glaring at him.
“I’m just curious how you knew I wouldn’t cut it,” she muttered, moving for the coffeemaker on the kitchen island. “You must have taken your smart pill that morning.”
Wasn’t she the lucky one that he didn’t take one every morning?
Raeg merely grinned rather than rising to the bait.
What the hell was up with him?
“You disappoint me, Summer,” Falcon told her, shaking his head as he shot her a teasing frown. “Trying to trick me rather than talking to me was not nice.”
She glanced toward the Heavens. God love his heart, talking to him had never gotten her anywhere before. He’d just end up sweet-talking her into wherever he needed her to go at any given time.
“Since when did talking to you work when you didn’t want to hear what I had to say?” she asked him, dumping some coffee beans into the grinder. “I was tired of talking, Falcon.”
She flipped the grinder on.
No one spoke as the scent of freshly ground coffee filled the air. Once it finished, she leveled the finely ground beans into the coffeemaker’s metal basket and turned the machine on.
“You didn’t have to make me think you had cut all your beautiful hair,” Falcon informed her, moving to the cabinets to collect their cups. “I was grieving, Summer. I believe I may have wanted to cry.”
She believed he was full of it.
“He was pathetic,” Raeg agreed in disgust. “Cursing and whining. Then he was waxing poetic. In Spanish even.”
In Spanish?
She slid Falcon an amused look. He rarely used his native language, but when he did, it was worth listening to. Though waxing poetic wasn’t normally his style when he erupted into a full-scale Spanish temper tantrum as she’d seen him do. It was usually some of the most inventive curses she believed she’d probably heard in her life.
Then there were the times he’d use all five languages he knew in one eruption of enraged sentences. She admitted those displays were completely mesmerizing. An education even when he really got into it.
“I’m sending him back to Arlington.” Falcon nodded toward his brother. “In a body bag. Next time I bring him out to play it will be in a muzzle.”
She almost laughed. Yeah, she could really see that one happening. There were many, many times she wished she could put a muzzle on Raeg herself. Sometimes, he actually deserved to be in one.
“I didn’t ask to be included this time,” Raeg seemed to remind him, his expression dark
ening.
“And I didn’t invite you,” Falcon retorted without any true anger. Yet. “But now that you are here, stop being an asshole and figure out where she’d be hiding that cake. I can smell it.”
She shot him an infuriated look. She simply couldn’t believe him.
Damn him. She had really hoped to get by without him detecting that cake.
“Oh for pity’s sake,” Summer muttered, pulling open the oven door to reveal the aluminum tin filled with the cinnamony fresh crumb cake. “You’re like an old hound dog sniffing out bones.”
Raeg chuckled, though Falcon dived for the pan.
“One day, I will kiss your momma’s cheek,” Falcon promised as he pulled the sweet treat from the oven as though it were gold.
He was just too easy to please sometimes.
“Too bad Summer can’t bake,” Raeg pointed out mockingly. “Or cook. I thought all good Southern mothers taught their daughters to cook before they were ten?”
