Page 133 of The Villain We Tempt

“It was completely fucking inappropriate,” Papa mutters, his brow furrowed as he shakes his head. “I’m calling over the manager.”

“Oh, comeon,” Dad snickers as he glances over his shoulder at “Julia” as she sashays back to the bar. “She was just being friendly.”

“Friendly?” Papa growls. “You call thatfriendly?”

The four of us are sitting at a window table at Christopher’s, a cute little French bistro near the water in Hawthorne Hollow known for being the go-to place for Knightsblood students when their parents are visiting, like ours are tonight.

Zane grins. “What’s it take for girls to be that ‘friendly’ tome?”

Papa frowns. “Zane.”

When Papa ordered his steak just now, medium rare, he told Julia he wanted it “pink on the inside”.

Julia's response was, “I bet you do, handsome.”

But Papa is shockingly clueless about the effect of his genetics on the humans around him—male and female alike. So while the rest of us bit our tongues, he asked Julia to make sure the chef didn’t overcook it. To whichshereplied, “Don’t worry, I’ll handle your meat personally.”

Not even Papa missed that one.

“I mean, I get she works for tips,” he frowns. “ButJesus.”

Dad grins. “I don’t think that was about getting a tip, Rome.” He snickers. “Well, notthatkind of tip.”

Zane cracks up. I hide my face in my hands. Papa turns red and glares at Dad.

“Val, c’mon.”

Dad chuckles and reaches over to take Papa’s hand. “Hey,I’mthe one who should be pissed off. But do I look jealous?”

“No,” Papa growls.

Dad smiles and squeezes Papa’s hand. “And that would be because of thesmugI’ve got going on. I mean a pretty girl half our age just basically gave my hot husband her room key.”

Papa frowns. “You seem oddly fine with that.”

“With the sentiment behind it, sure,” Dad shrugs. “With heractuallytrying something with you?” Something venomouscrosses his face, twisting his lips into a dark, cold smile. “Hellno.”

I giggle when he turns to wink at me.

I get that for the uninitiated, it could look like my parents are bickering. But they’re not. Actually, I’m pretty sure “competitiveness” is their love language.

“Did you just call her pretty?”

“Jesus, Roman,” Dad sighs, laughing quietly. “You really wanna go there? Shall we talk aboutMaks?”

This time it’s Papa rolling his eyes. “Val, give it a rest.”

“Wait, Maks as in your assistant Maks?” Zane says.

“The very same,” Dad mutters. “Walking around allgood MORNING,Mr. Nikitin! Can I hand-press your coffee, Mr. Nikitin? Do you need a shoulder rub?—”

“He doesn’t massage me, for God’s sake,” Papa sighs.

“Well, he sure prances around in that little bowtie every day,” Dad grunts.

Zane loses it. “Dad, I’m confused. You’re worried about Papa cheating on you with…Bill Nye the fucking Science Guy?”

I laugh so hard I almost pee. So do Papa and Dad.