Page 213 of Barinov

Bella’s bony elbow digs into my ribs when she rolls over, pulling me straight out of a really damn good dream.

She lets out a small yawn as her eyelids flutter open and blink away the haze. Beside her, Cade stirs too. His grip on her waist tightens instinctively before he relaxes, blinking just as sleepily in the dim light.

I look down at her and run a thumb against her warm, flushed cheeks. “You need anything, baby?”

She swallows hard. “A glass of water, please,” she whispers, giving me a tiny and grateful smile that goes straight to my chest.

“You got it.”

I carefully untangle myself from the three of our knot of limbs, making sure Cade finds the empty space behind her so she stays warm. She rolls over and hooks her leg over Cade’s.

Sliding out of bed, I grab my shorts from earlier, slide them on, and head for the door. I twist the handle and step out into the quiet hallway, running a hand through my messy hair.

Right as I pull the door shut behind me, another door clicks open down the hall. I glance over, totally expecting to see Tex sneaking out into the kitchen for the first cup of coffee. Instead, the door swings wide and Sabine steps out into the hallway, smoothing down her skirt.

I freeze dead in my tracks, my jaw hitting the damn floor as the pieces instantly click together from earlier.

“Holy fucking shit balls.”

Chapter 54

CADE

Bella and Zeke’s Penthouse

10 days since we got our girl back.

Morning has finally decided to claim Manhattan. Beyond our wall of windows, the first ribbons of gold spill between the skyscrapers and paint the glass towers in a warm amber light. And for one fleeting, peaceful moment, it’s like the city almost forgot it doesn’t sleep.

The smell of fresh coffee, sizzling strips of crisp bacon, butter melting over pancakes, and maple syrup warming on the stove fills Bella and Zeke’s penthouse. It’s become a morning ritual for us over the last few days. Breakfast. Check in on Zeke. Convince everyone in this madhouse to eat something. Steal an hour in the studio—if I’m lucky. Then wake up and do it all over again.

However, this morning, the peacefulness doesn’t last long.

“How did this happen? When did this happen?” Bella grills Tex and Sabine, pointing a spatula at them like she’s conducting an interrogation instead of helping me make breakfast.

“Sweetheart,” I say, flipping another pancake onto a plate. “Let them talk.”

Lex leans back in his barstool, laughing under his breath as if he didn’t single handedly cause this morning’s drama.

“Hell, let them breathe, baby.”

The entire house had been awakened by Lex’s, holy fucking shit balls moment earlier. I’d barely opened my eyes before our bedroom door slammed against the wall hard enough to make my Midnight Rain painting—the one I did of Bella and Josh on the rain stage—rattle against the drywall.

“Cade! Baby! Get the fuck out here!” Lex had roared, sounding somewhere between a man witnessing a murder and a kid who just found a dinosaur in his backyard.

Naturally with everything going on, we’d assumed the worst. Bella practically launched herself out of bed, ready to go snap Zeke out of another nightmare. I’d nearly face-planted over my own feet while yanking up my sweatpants just trying to follow her into the hall.

Only to find Sabine standing outside Tex’s bedroom with her heels in one hand, her braids a glorious disaster, and Tex leaning against the doorframe with his dark eyes blown wide. Sabine glared at Lex, mumbling something under her breath in a French Creole I couldn’t catch but am certain had to be a curse on his lineage.

And if that wasn’t bad enough for her, Zeke, Marisol, and Nate all popped their heads out of their rooms a few seconds later. Marisol and Bella both squealed in unison when the scene registered.

Now, Bella’s trying to piece together this timeline as if she’s solving a homicide.

Tex folds his heavy arms across his chest. “It just happened, Bells.”

“Absolutely not,” Bella shoots back, tapping the silicon spatula against the counter for emphasis. “Dating Sabine doesn’t just happen. I want details.”

“Me too,” Marisol chips in, completely invested from where she’s perched on Zeke’s lap over on the couch.