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“You’re just sitting out here.” She paused. “I guess that is creepy.”
I took the tray from her and set it on the coffee table near the hammock. The wicker chair I had occupied just the night before was open and she quickly dropped into it, smoothing her hair behind her ear repeatedly like she had done so many times about ten years back.
Ten years. And she’d had two kids in that time, sheesh. I stared at her for a long time as she stared at the teapot, worry lashing her face and making me wonder what she was thinking.
“Listen, I’m sorry about last night,” she whispered as she reached for the pot. Her hand shook violently. She caught it with her free hand and rubbed her palm generously with her thumb. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“You shouldn’t have stomped away, Ginny darling.”
She blinked up at me while her brows furrowed together. I reached out to stroke her cheek, totally tuned in to the way her body shuddered when I swept my thumb over her chin.
She yanked her chin away. “I’m just sorry, okay?”
“Apology accepted.”
She reached for the teapot, but I was much faster, and I had been craving something sweet while sitting out here. She quietly accepted the teacup when I was done preparing her the chamomile with the lemon wedge and a dash of sugar just how she liked. As she cupped it to her lips, I watched the wisps of steam tickle her nose and swirl around her face. She looked mystical.
I slurped my tea loudly. “Good stuff.”
“Surprised you don’t want whiskey with it.”
“Nah, there’s kids to be watched. Can’t get drunk around your twins.”
She gave me a strange look, her eyes all wide and her mouth all flat as if she was shocked by my statement—or maybe suspicious. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Come on, I’m not a drunk like your granddad.”
“I didn’t say that.”
I cracked my neck. “Didn’t have to.”
“Slater?”
“Yes, Ginny?”
Hazel-brown eyes glittered in the mustard light. She sipped her tea, set it down, and folded her hands in her lap. “Why are you here?”
“I’m watching the house.”
“I mean,whythough? It’s not like we’re in danger or anything. Did Troy or Blake ask you to do it?”
I shook my head. “Nobody asked me to do it. I’m just doing it because I can, and because I want to do it.”
“Right.” She rubbed the back of her neck. It appeared she was getting a bit more nervous now. But why? She was perfectly safe with me.
I extended my hand. She slipped hers into mine, puzzle pieces meeting their edges for the first time in centuries. I sighed. “When the Frostcrown pack dissolved, what happened to you?”
She turned her head away, but she didn’t take her hand back. I had to count that as progress with her. “South.”
“Yeah, but where? We joined the Beaufort Creek pack here, but where did you go?”
“I said,south.”
Drills were born from her eyes, ones that could have sliced clean through me if they were real. That meant she was done saying what she was saying. But sweet gods, the fire pouring right out of her, shit. I could have tackled her on the porch if I knew I could get away with it.
My interest grew.She did kiss me last night.
I studied her lips, the lower lip plumper than the upper lip and retaining a reddish hue like she’d been wearing lipstick earlier. Back in the day, she’d been pretty into making up her face. She shaved her eyebrows and did wild eyeliner. She did all sorts of creative things with her lipstick and eyeshadow.
