Page 269 of A Vicious Love

“Yes.”

Her blush deepened, but she leaned forward and took the bite from my fingers. Her lips brushed my thumb, and my attention cut sharply to her mouth. Terrible development. Her mouth made the entire act much less burdensome.

I took the second triangle. Chicken, herb butter, some green thing. Safe. I fed it to her, and she took it again. Each sandwich was as horrible as the next.

She leaned close to my ear, her lips brushing the edge of it. “Thank you.”

I turned my head enough that my mouth brushed the inside of her wrist where her hand rested near my shoulder. I caught it, held it, and kissed the pulse.

“Always, baby.”

Round four caused trouble.

Victor claimed tarragon. Adrian said chervil. Julian said the butter was lemon-thyme but the filling had been mislabeled because the kitchen used poached chicken instead of egg. Aunt Mirelle declared everyone uncultured and wrote “sorrel” in large angry letters. Sienna wrote down smoked almond, parsley, and goat curd.

I looked at her card. “You made that up.”

“I did not.”

“No sandwich on earth requires those ingredients together.”

She tapped my hand gently. “Just write chicken and green stuff again.”

I was being smack talked about sandwiches.

“I wasn’t guessing chicken.”

“You wrote chicken four times.” She grinned down at her pencil.

Mila appeared again, dragging Nell by the wrist. “Aunt Sienna, you promised.”

Sienna looked down. “I promised after sandwiches.”

“Sandwiches are finished.” Mila grabbed Sienna’s hand. My hand tightened slightly at her side.

The child saw it and narrowed her eyes.

“She’s coming.” Mila pulled harder. “We need Aunt Sienna.”

“No.”

Sienna’s fingers slipped under my palm at her back and pinched lightly.

I sighed. “Fine. I can stand near frogs.”

Nell cheered.

I followed at a controlled distance. Controlled meaning close enough that if one of the little animals near the pond decided to leap toward her, I could remove it from existence.

Mila led them with Honey tucked under one arm. Nell followed with a little tin bucket. Tomas carried a magnifying glass backward and accused reeds of hiding things on purpose.

Sienna walked with them at the edge of the water, black bikini under that useless sheer wrap, looking happier than any sane woman should look while supervising mud.

I followed because she was there.

That was the entire explanation.

“You walk too loud,” Mila told me without turning around.