“We have housekeepers, but usually me. I know you’re not as organized, so it’s been added to their daily task lists.”
“Are you calling me a slob?” I feigned insult.
“You describe it so much better than I do.”
I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not until he glanced over and flashed a heart-stopping smile. “I don’t give a shit if you don’t make the bed or want to leave your laundry all over our bedroom. I just want you here. I can take care of everything else.”
“I think I’m capable of making a bed.”
“I know you are, but you don’t have to. And Cookie already knows his kitchen needs to be protected from you at all costs.”
“Whatever, I’m not going to burn down your house.”
He slowed and made sure I saw his reproachful frown. “Whose house?”
“Our house?”
“Good girl.”
“You want me to just accept all of this within, what? Two days. We haven’t even had an actual discussion about…anything.”
His responding sigh was amusingly exaggerated.
“We need to talk. We’ve been over that at least ten times now. We will. Talking isn’t going to change your future so yes, you need to simply accept it or at least understand this is your home. Sooner than later would be nice.”
He walked with me down the second staircase to the first floor. As we were coming around the curve the sound of music playing began to reach my ears.
“Where is that coming from?”
“Oh, your best friend is fucking mine. They were courteous enough to add background noise.”
Well, that confirmed what I already suspected. Leave it to Judas to relay such information like one would the daily forecast. I would never hear Glamorous the same way again.
“I know you’re not on the best terms with her. If it continues, give the word and she’s gone.”
I came to a full stop. “What do you mean gone?”
“You’ve got to stop asking me these dumbass questions. I adore you, but there’s only so much I can take.” He released my hand and finished descending, turning to face me once he reached the bottom.
“Dead. Buried in a hole somewhere. Cut into tiny little pieces and fried up for Romeo and Juliet. Bullet to the head. Or if you want, we can do it slow and methodically. I know a guy if you’d prefer not to do that personally.”
“What? No! We’re not--you—are not killing Audrey. Ever. And stop speaking to me like I’m an idiot.” I contemplated pulling my sandal off and launching it at his goddamn head.
“Morto.”
I glared down the few remaining stairs between us. “You know I don’t speak Italian.”
He smirked coolly. “It means dead. I thought I needed to switch languages to help you understand better.”
I reached down and slipped my shoe off. With careful aim, I hurled it right at his face.
He laughed and caught it midair. “Calm down, Rhiannon. Violence is never the answer.”
“You’re…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. I hobbled down the stairs feeling like a fool and tried to snatch my shoe out of his hand.
He held it up above his head and wrapped an arm around my middle, spinning me around so that I was facing the opposite direction. Instead of trying to fight against him, I imagined myself as a dead fish and let myself go limp. His reaction time was notably impressive. He quickly tightened his hold.
“That was smart,” he remarked, sounding genuinely pleased.
“Why are you like this?” I questioned with a groan.
Handling me with care, he turned my body and placed me on the second to last stair. Crouching down, he grabbed my ankle, and I was forced to latch onto his shoulders as he lifted up my foot and slipped my shoe back on. He placed a light kiss on my calf and then removed my hands from his shoulders so that he could straighten back to his full height.
“Look, it’s a perfect fit.”
“Yeah, you’re a real prince charming.”
“No.” He held out his hand for me to take again. “I would hate to be the hero. I’m much better at being the villain.”
He was still being playful, but there was a darker tone in his words. I didn’t like the way he’d flipped that.
“I’m sorry for toying with you,” he added, mistaking my hesitation.
“Did you just apologize to me?” I grabbed his hand and let him gently tug me down to join him on the first floor.
“Don’t sound so shocked.”
I didn’t respond. I’d been waiting years for an apology from him, and it had never been because he taunted me into throwing a designer shoe at his head. I quickly deviated away from the thorny path my thoughts were about to take. We had shit to talk about, but that discussion clearly wasn’t happening right this second.
“So, what are we doing today?”
“We’re on a schedule. We don’t have time for you to eat breakfast, but I had Cookie prepare something for on the go.”