“Shamelessly and unapologetically.”
In that easy grin he gifted me, relief cushioned my poor stomach. If I’d texted him that I’d killed a fed last night and helped clean up the murder, I couldn’t exactly see him smiling about it.
“Well, you found me,” I said as if to congratulate, eyeing my hand swamped in his.
He squeezed my fingers, bringing my focus back up to him. “And are you okay?”
“She’s fine.”
And a pissed off James has entered the chat.
I swiveled my gaze back across the table. The sun had gotten the message from James loud and clear, obeying his temper and burning hotter and fiercer from above. It beautifully spotlighted the hatred burning a ring of fire around his molten lava eyes pegged on Demitri.
Throwing a ration of gasoline on the situation, Demitri leaned close enough that his breath was a low, mocking caress against my ear.
“I don’t think your muscle likes me very much.”
Stare tacked on James, I murmured for the table, “I think your hand on mine bothers him more than anything.”
Demitri hummed a mischievous tune against my neck. “Wonder what he’d do if he knew where else my hands had been?”
A quick peck pressed to my throat, and the liquid fire of James’ eyes screamed.
He looked like he was half a second away from rocketing himself across the table at Demitri. He looked like he wanted to rip his head clean off and punt it over the highway. He looked absolutely fucking livid.
What he didn’t look… was surprised to see him.
My stomach buckled fast and hard realizing James had been keeping dirty secrets from me. About me. The quick-acting hatred searing his pupils wasn’t a brand born out of something as fragile as jealousy.
It was the kind with deep roots, personal afflictions watering the grounds of disdain.
“How’d you find us at this cafe?” I asked to keep sound flowing.
“Flew the jet to that little hotel you said you were at, asked the front desk if they knew where a smoking hot redhead had gone, and here we are.” Another kiss to my neck in between words. “You weren’t answering your phone.”
“It died.”
He accepted the answer easily, settling in at our table like James wasn’t most definitely eyeing his fork and picturing every way he could maim Demitri with it.
“So, what were you two talking about before I got here?”
“The craziest places we’ve had sex.”
Demitri chuffed a laugh, picking a fallen breakfast potato from my plate between his fingers.
“Did you tell him about the church we fucked in?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, squinting in the sun’s glare at a beet-faced James.
Rage had given the flush of his sculpted cheeks a unique color as he fumed so hard at Demitri, steam was practically radiating off of him.
It was funny.
Weird, really.
James had done another bad thing. He lied. Lying without giving sound to the words was still a lie. So not telling me he knew I was connected to Demitri and testing me in the woods to see if I’d lie about knowing Rebecca was a bad, bad thing.
But the weird thing was…