Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I hadn’t expected to feel like this about her. I hadn’t expected to feel anything.
Finally, when I saw her nod off to sleep, I was able to drift off as well.
I woke up to the sound of laughter in the kitchen. Groaning, I rolled out of bed and walked down the hall, frowning at the sight in front of me.
Sean was sitting at the table, sipping coffee, doing something on the computer, and Skylar was at the counter, chopping vegetables.
With a knife.
“What the fuck?” I growled.
They both looked up, and before they could react, I lunged forward and grabbed the big, sharp object away from Skylar.
Skylar huffed and rolled her eyes as Sean regarded me calmly. “Problem, Cian?”
“You gave her a knife? A fucking knife?”
He waved his hand. “I have my gun. It’s faster. She’s not going to do anything.”
“You don’t know that!”
Skylar shook her head. “She’s right here, fuckwit. Stop talking about me like I’m not in the room.”
I pointed the knife at her. “Stop calling me that! What the hell are you doing anyway?”
She shrugged. “I was tired of playing cards. I wanted soup, and Sean said I could make some.”
I glared at him. “You volunteered to give her a knife? Have you forgotten the window? The door? The air conditioner? MacGyver ring a bell with you?”
He chuckled and took another drink of his coffee. “She asked if she could. I’m watching her. Skylar knows the rules.” He looked at her. “Right, Skylar?”
“No stabbing or threats. No bodily harm to myself. Anything but cooking, and I’m back in my room with no books,” she recited.
He nodded. “See? Give her back the knife, Cian. The soup smells awesome, and I’m starving from shoveling all that fucking snow—while you slept, I might add.”
I didn’t even acknowledge his comment. Instead, I focused on Skylar and glanced down at the knife. “It’ll be worse than just back in your room if you try to hurt us or yourself with this.”
She held out her hand. “I don’t like blood, Cian. That’s your department, remember?”
Grudgingly, I handed her back the knife. Sean did seem to have it under control.
“I made coffee,” she offered.
“Damn good coffee, too,” Sean added.
I sat down with a cup and took a deep swallow. It was good. She had added something to it, and I took another sip, trying to figure it out.
“Cinnamon,” Sean said quietly.
I nodded. I liked it.
Silently, I watched Skylar moving around—she certainly seemed at home in the kitchen. She chopped and added, stirred and tasted, finally nodding. Covering the pot, she smiled and made a big production of wiping off the knife and handing it to Sean. “There. You can breathe again, Cian. I didn’t try to stab either of you or hurt myself.”
She sat down beside me and, without even asking, refilled my cup, then did the same for herself.
I narrowed my eyes at her. There was something different about her today—almost jaunty.
No. Mischievous. She was up to something. I leaned forward, my lips close to her ear. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Kitten? What plan are you concocting now?”
Her smile faltered. “Nothing,” she insisted. “I wanted to do something. That’s all.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She flung out her hands. “What could I be up to, Cian? Sean watched me the whole time! I made some soup—just some fucking soup!”
“There you go again with the language.”
“Stop pissing me off, then.”
“It’s fun.”
“Cian, please.” Sean groaned. “Leave her alone. Go have a shower, and then we can eat.”
Skylar nodded. “About half an hour and it’ll be ready.”
I stood. “Fine.” I flipped two fingers between my eyes and Skylar. “But I’m watching you.”
“Watch away, fuckwit,” she muttered as I walked away.
I waited until I was in the shower before I let out my laughter.
Sean and Skylar were sitting at the table, steaming bowls of soup in front of them. Sean grinned at me. “This is awesome,” he mumbled around a mouthful. “And I didn’t have to make it.”
I rolled my eyes but inhaled in appreciation at the bowl Skylar placed in front of me. “Vegetable beef?” I asked, picking up my spoon.
She nodded. “I used up the leftover meat from last night.” She sighed quietly, glancing out the window. “It felt like a soup kind of day. I love soup. I missed cooking when I was on the street.”
Sean and I shared a look. It was the first time she’d ever offered anything personal to either of us. “Feel free to cook anytime, Skylar.” He winked at her and lifted his bowl. “Can I get some more?”
Grinning, she went over to the stove, and I started eating. Sean was right—it was delicious. No wonder he was on his second bowl. Knowing how quickly he ate, I started rushing, spooning the soup into my mouth quickly. I wanted to be sure to get another bowl before he polished it off.