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Chapter Eight
Dante hefted the huge container onto the top of the wood burner and then picked up the pan of soup makings and moved them to the kitchen when Lazarus declared he needed to clear the ashes from the grate.
Jericho helped Shyla to the kitchen and then announced he was going to clear the bedding out of Lazarus’s way. She didn’t think it was intentional, but suddenly she found herself alone with Dante again.
Well, as alone as it was possible to be in one room. Plenty alone enough if he decided to have another go at her.
She stood, slightly uncomfortably, gripping hold of the countertop for balance and trying not to fidget. She stiffened when Dante threw her a look, waiting for the first barb. But all he did was step forward, grasp her around the waist and sit her upon the countertop like Jeri had done yesterday. “There, that should be more comfortable,” he told her. “Now how do I make this soup?”
For a moment Shyla lost her tongue. She desperately wanted to ask him why the sudden change of heart but didn’t dare risk shattering the fragile peace. “Well, I was going to add some bacon jerky to it, to give it some taste,” she explained. “There should be some in my backpack.”
Dante nodded and fetched the package.
“Just cut it into small pieces and it will rehydrate while the soup cooks,” she instructed. “Then we just need to add water and leave it to heat.”
Dante did everything then put the pan to one side. He came to fetch her down again, but as he closed his hands around her waist once more, Shyla stopped him. “Um… We could maybe make some sugar pancakes for breakfast while we wait,” she suggested hesitantly. “It will be a while before the soup is ready since we’re melting snow and boiling water first.”
Dante paused, still standing in front of her, still with his hands on her waist, so hot it felt like they might burn through the fabric of her top and right into her skin. Or maybe it was just the air that was sizzling between them.
“You can make pancakes with what’s in that cupboard?” he asked in surprise, still not moving away.
Shyla nodded and their eyes caught. She held her breath, her lips parting, as awareness flared between them. He leaned in and Shyla swayed towards him. But when she thought he would kiss her, he didn’t. His bare legs pressed against hers. His fingers flexed, rubbing from her ribs to her hips and back again. But he just rubbed his nose down hers before pushing away.
Shyla closed her eyes to mask the disappointment. What in the name of God was wrong with her? Last night she’d allowed herself to be pleasured by not one, but two men. And yet here she was regretting the fact that a third hadn’t kissed her.
This was taking survival instinct a bit too far, even for her.
She sucked in a breath and glossed over it all. “If you fetch some egg powder, sugar, flour and dried milk, I’ll explain how to do it,” she said as if nothing had passed between them at all.
* * *
“That was a damn brave decision,”Lazarus said to Jeri as they dealt with their respective chores by the fireplace.
“Have they kissed and made up yet?” Jeri asked, refusing to look around and make things obvious.
“Well, they’re not biting each other’s heads off or ignoring each other,” Lazarus observed. “But you better be ready to step in if things get out of hand. I already gave Dante a talking to.”
“What?” Jeri asked, shaking out one of the blankets. “After Shyla told you not to? Damn it, Lazarus, I wouldn’t have taken her over there if I’d known you’d already gotten him all riled up. Shyla was right when she said to leave it. It won’t help if Dante thinks we’re both siding against him.”
“Fuck that. He was being a dick and allowing him to get away with it wasn’t right.” Lazarus scooped the ashes into the big, metal bin which was used to store them ready for use in the composting toilet; stirring them in to dissipate the heat.
“Besides, it worked, didn’t it? He was positively polite to her afterwards.”
Jeri picked up the sofa cushions and tucked them back on the couch, risking a surreptitious look as he did so. He almost choked when he saw Dante and Shyla nose to nose. Nope, they were definitely not arguing this time.
“So, what do you think that means?” he asked Lazarus, tipping his head in their direction, when he walked back to the hearth.
Lazarus flicked them a look from the corner of his eye as he selected a couple of logs to add to the fire.
“I think it means Dante likes her,” he told Jeri with a grin.
“But he doesn’t like to share,” Jeri warned. “You know that as well as I do. It’s not his thing.”
Lazarus grinned. “I think he might make an exception in this case, and quite frankly, I hope he does. “Because unless Shyla’s an exhibitionist - and I don’t think that’s likely - then fucking her with an audience is going to be awkward.”
Jeri punched his brother on the arm and laughed. “Damn you’re bad,” he said, casting the couple one last look. “But I guess I am too, because that’s a scenario I can get right behind.”
“Yeah, yeah!” Lazarus chuckled, deliberately twisting his brothers’ words. “We all know you’re the ass man.”
