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“So, trust me with all your wounds, Laurel. Especially the ones that cut you the deepest. And if all else fails,” he continued, leaning forward so his breath fanned over my cheekbone, “I’ll kiss every inch of you until it stops hurting.”
I swallowed a knot of emotion and let my eyes dance over the planes of his face. “You promise?”
“Yes. And I’ll remind you every day.”
A smile ghosted over my lips as his mouth pressed against mine with coaxing, gentle pressure. That kind of medicine was better than bubblegum flavor any day.
* * *
I tapped the watermelon-printed salad bowl with nervous fingers as we waited on the arched doorstep of Remington’s charming, colonial-style house. I looked left, then right. Lachlan pinched my ass through the sunflower print of my short jumper.
I started, and then gave him a glare.
“Stop worrying,” he murmured.
“I’m not worrying. You’re worrying,” I said nervously.
Remington opened the front door, beaming with perfectly straight teeth. His curly, dark blond hair fell over his forehead in an attractive swoop and his brown eyes crinkled in welcome. If Lachlan was Captain America, then his brother was Clark Kent. “Laurel,” he said, holding out a hand. “We’re so glad you came!”
I shook his hand, and the cool smoothness of his grip had an immediate calming effect on my nerves. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Are you kidding me?” Remington asked, standing aside so we could cross the threshold. “Michaela is frothing at the mouth to meet you.”
“Hi bro, nice to see you, too” Lachlan pointed out sarcastically.
Remington’s wife, Michaela, popped out of seemingly nowhere with her green eyes fastened on me. “No one cares about your feelings, Lachlan. Laurel! I’ve heard so much about you,” she gushed. “Come in. What is that? Did Lachlan make some kind of ancient grain salad?”
I snickered and Lachlan clicked his tongue softly.
Michaela had long, frizzy hair that curled and waved in a chaotic tumble down her shoulders, but she swirled it up with a claw clip as she led me through their house. It was a mix of updated fixtures and outdated elements, like the floral-papered dining room, and it seemed perfect. “We’re all out back,” Michaela explained as she led me through the dining room to the double glass doors which were already open and guarded by a screen door. “Otherwise, I think the boys would run us over.”
As if summoned, two boys darted around the corner. The older one was brandishing a horrifying collection of gardening hand tools, and Michaela smoothly intercepted his attack by plucking them from the brown-haired boy’s hands.
I watched in amazement and took mental notes. She didn’t seem phased by their boisterous complaints one bit, and she gestured for me to go through the screen door. I did, balancing Lachlan’s bean salad in the crook of my arm. I gave a little gasp when I stepped into their yard. They’d strung bulb lights from a pergola to a covered patio to the left, and then the green lawn sloped down at least half an acre with a white fence around all of it. A wooden playset had been built under a cottonwood tree, and near it, a small boy bounced fearlessly high on a covered trampoline.
Family nirvana.
Lachlan pressed the length of his body against my back, and he leaned down to whisper, “Did we short circuit a wire?”
I skipped forward, my cheeks heating as Remington snorted from behind Lachlan. “No, I’m good,” I said, clearing my throat. I went over to the glass table on the patio, and after setting the bowl down with the rest of the food, I took a moment to admire their view. They had a perfect view of the mountains with miles of bright green trees stretching out like an ocean before the monoliths. Still white-capped and blue in early spring, they captured all the colors of thawing rebirth.
Lachlan came to stand behind me and wrapped his long arms around me, fully enveloping me in his warmth. “You look pretty serene for someone who has to piss off a douche in a second.”
I smiled and leaned my cheek against his hard bicep. “Should we bet on how long it takes him to snag the bait?”
“A week,” Remington said as he went to the grill and lifted the lid. “He’ll dither about it. It’s illegal as fuck, so he’ll need to stew on it.”
“Hm,” Lachlan hummed, and the sound went straight to my panties. I wouldn’t ever get used to the effect his voice had on my body. “I think he’ll do it as soon as he’s back in Norway. Maybe a day or two.”
Challenge accepted. “Like three hours,” I said. Both men guffawed. Undaunted, I shrugged. “He’ll find somewhere with Wi-Fi and find the easiest way to retaliate with immediate effect.”
“Well see,” Remington and Lachlan said in unison.
That was, of course, assuming Jason took the bait at all. He could still release the information he had on Remington, even if he had bluffed about Lachlan’s research. Which was why it was my job to get him angry enough to want to press all the red buttons and blow himself up in the process.
It was just as Remington had finished dishing up hot dogs to his kids that we heard the crunch of tires on worn asphalt outside the Cade house. I went to greet them, eager to have Calla in my arms again, but Lachlan held my elbow and then slid his arm around my torso. He fitted my hip to his leg and said, “Make him come to you. Home field advantage.”
“Sports analogies mean nothing to me,” I said, rolling my eyes up to him.
