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“Yes. I never had a chance to do it growing up. My parents never had time to cook, so we usually fended for ourselves. Grilled cheese sandwiches, or mac and cheese. Then once I started dancing…” she shrugged. “Dancers stick to yoghurt, fruit, and salads.” She pulled out some plates. “You have a great kitchen, but you don’t cook much. Half the cupboards are empty.”
He shook his head.
“Okay.” She waved at the table. “Take a seat. I’m serving up.”
Bram found himself eating delicious steak, sipping excellent whiskey, and watching the candlelight flicker over Addie’s pretty face.
“So, Shade seems interesting,” she said.
“He’s a deep-cover spy for the CIA. You can’t tell anyone about him.”
“I won’t say a word. He somehow manages to come across both charming and dangerous. I’m glad he’s on the side of the good guys.”
“Me, too.” No one would ever describe Bram as charming. He fought back a scowl.
“I’m really glad he helped you and Devyn.”
Bram reached out and took her hand. “We would’ve been fine.”
She set her fork down. “Nick said they didn’t find anything at Kozlov’s apartment. What about the storage place? Did you find anything?”
Feck. He didn’t want to lie to her. “Not much. Kozlov wasn’t there.”
Her mouth flattened. “I can tell you’re holding back.”
“Addie—”
“I’m not weak or delicate, Bram.”
“I know that, but I want to protect you.”
“The best way to do that is keep me informed, not in the dark.”
He sighed. “Photos. He had hundreds of photos of you.”
“Oh.” Dismay flowed over her face, then she lifted her chin. “We knew he was following me. It’s not a surprise.”
Bram tightened his grip, and stroked the pulse in her wrist. “He won’t lay one hand on you.”
“I know that.” She cocked her head. “But you don’t seem to trust that. Something is making you worried that you can’t protect me.”
A muscle ticked beside his eye.
“I trust you,” she said quietly.
Shit, that hit him hard.
“But you don’t trust yourself,” she continued. “You won’t let yourself open up fully with me. Why?”
Bram felt things shifting around inside him. Only Addie could do this to him. “Because I couldn’t save my ma. Couldn’t save my sister.”
Addie watched him carefully. “Tell me how they were killed, Bram.”
He closed his eyes. Old horrors were the worst. The edges were dulled and rusted, but they still cut far worse.
Slim fingers entwined with his. Just that small movement, joining them, knowing she was with him, was enough.
“We’d been to Dublin for the day. Ma took Fiona and me.” It’d been a fun day, even with the dreaded shoe shopping. “I was in my last year of school, and still deciding what to do with my life.” He’d also been fighting with his dad, who wanted him to go to work at the local mine. Bram hadn’t known what he’d wanted, but he knew he didn’t want to be stuck in a small village, doing the same things over and over again. “It was getting dark, and the car broke down.”
