Page 99 of The Devil of Downtown

“Hold on,” he says into the phone, tapping the mute button.

He pours me a cup of coffee, sliding it toward me, his green eyes dragging over me. Then he cuts a piece from the top pancake, lifts it to my lips with the fork, and waits—patient,but with that unmistakable Dane intensity that says he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Eat,” he says, pushing a plate toward me. “I’ll just finish this call, then you’re all mine.”

By the time I finish the last bite of pancake, I’m warm, full, caffeinated, and entirely overwhelmed by all the feelings bursting to life. If his aim was to ruin me, he’s getting dangerously close. I wander down the hall after cleaning up the breakfast things, drawn to a cluster of framed photos arranged along the wall, snapshots of summers by the lake, blurred photos of three siblings who clearly bicker and love in equal measure. My smile falters when my eyes land on one picture tucked in the corner—Dane with his arm around a beautiful blonde-haired woman, both of them dressed for some formal event. Helena. I can’t help noticing how different she is from me, and I can’t decide if that’s good or bad. I don’t look at it long, but something unsettles in my chest, anyway. Before I can pull my gaze away, I feel him—Dane stepping up behind me, his palm sliding around my hip as he presses his mouth into my hair, warm breath brushing the shell of my ear.

“You up for a hike?” he murmurs, voice a low scrape that goes right through me. I lean into his touch, my head turning slightly. “Why are you worried I won’t make it?” I tease.

“It’s pretty steep,” he says, giving me the chance to bow out.

“Hey, I’m younger than you,” I fire back. “I’m pretty sure I can keep up.”

His voice drops low, amused. “Sweetheart... you’ll be begging me to slow down.”

“Challenge accepted.” I fold my arms, spinning to face him. “The only problem is I don’t have any clothes. And before you say anything, that’s not an excuse.”

He takes me to a walk-in closet lined with neatly arranged shelves and racks and opens a lower drawer with a flick of his wrist.

“Charlotte keeps clothes here,” he says. “She visits a lot. She’s about your size.”

I sift through the options: fitted leggings, thermal tops, a forest-green fleece. Everything looks soft, quality, lived-in. There’s even some hiking boots in the same size as me. I pull out a few pieces just as my phone rings from the bedside table.

Sloane.

Of all the timing.

“Hey Sloane,” I say, trying to sound normal.

“Whereareyou?” Sloane demands. “Your bed last night was untouched.”

“Stayed at a friend’s,” I lie quickly, turning slightly so my voice bounces off the closet and not toward Dane.

“Brody?” she asks, trying to sound casual, but I hear the anxiety beneath the surface.

“No, just someone you don’t know.”

“Since when do you have new friends?” Suspicion drips from every syllable.

“Since always,” I lie again. “How’s Elsie?”

“Currently covering the table in glitter.”

I smile. “Sounds about right.”

Worry creeps back into her tone. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Promise,” I say, glancing at Dane, who’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me.

We talk for another minute before I hang up, turning back to Dane.

“You need to tell her,” he says, firm and absolute.

“I will as soon as I get home.”

“Good.”

He studies me for a beat, then adds, “If you want, I can tell her.”