Today was literally the first time he’d ever seen his minder anything less than calm. Even when her cousin had insulted her.
That morning, he’d wondered whether Ron’s disdain bothered her at all, because it didn’t seem to. Alex had envied that seeming imperviousness, frankly. His skin was always a little thinner than it should be. Maybe too thin for his chosen profession.
He hadn’t intended to hurt her feelings today. That he’d done so anyway was just one more misdeed to toss atop his already massive pile of regrets. Still, he now knew shehadactual feelings, which was comforting. And she might have snapped at him, but he’d always preferred an honest reaction over artifice.
Someone like her wouldn’t lose her temper around anyone she didn’t trust at least a little, right?
Yes, he was clearly well on his way to charming her completely. Which meant it was time to up his efforts and introduce her to the wonders of soggy bottoms, baps, and claggy sponges.
“You snapped at me for no reason, Nanny Clegg.” He chose a wheedling tone, one guaranteed to grate on her nerves. “Aren’t you going to make that up to me somehow?”
“I apologized.” Dragging her finger, she highlighted a passage in her e-reader. “That should be sufficient recompense.”
“It’s not.”
She looked up at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Then she sighed and set aside her book. “What do you want, Alex?”
Ten minutes later, they were huddled around his laptop and streaming Nadiya’s season—thebestseason—ofThe Great British Bake Off.Lauren had reluctantly agreed to watch the first several episodes with him. In return, he’d promised to let her sleep peacefully the entire plane ride, although he’d also crossed his fingers behind his back while making that promise, so he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions high above the Atlantic.
As they watched, her posture loosened minute by minute, until her shoulders no longer hovered near her ears. Her thighs, covered in stretchy leggings for the long trip, spread farther apart as she leaned closer to the monitor.
And just now, as she’d shifted in her seat, he’d spotted something very interesting indeed. In her chest region. Not that he’d been looking at her breasts, which weren’t especially remarkable. But what lay atop those breastswas.
He paused the episode. “Hey, Lauren?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she exhaled through her nose. “Yes, Alex?”
“What’s Big Harpy Energy?” He flicked a finger at her T-shirt. “And where can I get some?”
BHE: BIG HARPY ENERGY, the shirt declared in large, bold letters. In smaller text beneath, there was a hashtag:#CRONEGOALS.
“I’ve heard of Big Dick Energy,” he noted with a smirk, “and from all accounts, I’m a prime exemplar of that particular—”
“Can it, Woodroe.” She looked down at her chest, then gave a little shrug. “My best friend Sionna lost her husband about five years ago. A few months later, she announced she was founding the Harpy Institute for Crone Sciences. She asked if I wanted to join her and make it a two-person institution, and again, she’s my best friend, so …”
Another tiny shrug, as if to say,Really, what else could I do?
He tilted his head. “The Harpy Institute. For—”
“Crone Sciences,” she confirmed. “Sionna came up with the CroneGoals hashtag. I designed the T-shirts. We meet twice monthly to drink wine, binge-watch TV shows, and go over our progress in the Shrew Arts.”
She glanced toward his laptop screen, clearly impatient for him to restart the show, but nope. Not after that bombshell.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think Nanny Clegg occasionally had … fun?
No, that couldn’t be right.
But how could anyone who designed and wore a Big Harpy Energy tee be entirely devoid of humor?
“You designed the T-shirts,” he said slowly. “Plural.”
“Yes.”
He raised his brows. “Can I see the others?”
“Not right now, you can’t. They’re at my duplex.” She gestured impatiently at the screen. “Can we keep watching? I don’t think all the contestants will be done on time.”
