The click of expensive heels had me sitting up higher in my seat. She was gracious about the closet of clothing I had purchased for her and promised that she would not let them go to waste. I was pleased to see that she hadn’t because she made each piece come to life on her lush body.
In light of what Khane had said about material items, I noticed that although Mecca loved the clothes, the gesture hadn’t done a thing towards making us any closer as a couple. Maybe Khane was right.
“Hey, husband.”
She cast a teasing smile in my direction before she turned to Khane.
“Hey, almost husband.”
“Mecca,” he greeted, his smile flashing again.
When she stepped closer to Khane, his smile dropped, and his posture stiffened.
“What the hell happened to your eye?” She peered closer, not giving him a chance to respond.
“Finally found out my cousin wasn’t as innocent as she appears to be, and she stabbed you in it or something? Caught you in the eye with the pot of hot grits she slung while you slept?”
A quick burst of tension had stiffened me. Mecca had no idea how close she had come to predicting what had happened to his eye, but that it was our evil father that had wielded the knife.
She reached out and cupped his chin, and I jumped up from my chair, hoping he didn’t react in a negative manner. By the time I took the first few steps, she was tilting his head up to get a better look, and he was…letting her.
“It’s been this way since I was thirteen. I usually wear a contact,” Khane answered, staring up at her studying him.
“Humm. Suits you. It makes you hotter.” She observed him, her palm remaining under his chin. Had she any idea, she was petting a fucking Bengal tiger, a wild, untamed one. And her telling my brother he was hot was like nails raking over my nerves.
When she eased back, the snarl and bared teeth I expected to see from Khane wasn’t there. He simply sat there and looked up at Mecca like they were long-time acquaintances.
She finally let her hand drop away from his chin, but remained within his striking distance. “Now I understand you and Des a little bit better. She loves her a bad boy but had often forgone what she wanted. Guess she found herself the real deal this time?”
Khane shrugged, and a small smile flashed on his lips.
“Guess so,” he replied.
Mecca turned to me once she was done observing Khane, eyeing me up and down. Could she see the surprise on my face and the tight pull of tension that I hadn’t let go of yet?
She hadn’t been the least bit disturbed at the sight of Khane’s eye. It wasn’t a horrific sight, but the color mismatch was highly noticeable and telling that he was nearly blind in that eye.
“I’m ready when you are,” Mecca stated before she strutted across the floor with those tight jeans and extra-high heels on, knowing my eyes would be on her ass. She had discovered at our wedding that I was an ass man when she caught me several times eyeballing hers.
We were finally getting around to signing more of our legal paperwork and bank documents. We probably could have done it apart, but I was starting to think Mecca was a work-a-holic that wasn’t going to take a break unless she was forced to do so.
Once she was out of earshot, I shot Khane a pointed expression.
“What the fuck was that?”
“What the fuck was what?” he questioned, not at all disturbed by what I had just witnessed.
“She touched your face. Talked about your eye. And you didn’t bite her hand off, didn’t curse her out, and didn’t even snatch your face away.”
I scratched my head because Khane was particular about who he allowed to touch him. Aside from Desiree, Mecca was the only person I had witnessed touching him that way.
“The only person whose opinion I care about is at home, probably burning down my kitchen trying to figure out how to cook me a meal. She accepted me this way, so I don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks or says.”
“What kind of fucking spells do these Evans women have on us?” I asked the question more to myself than to Khane as my gaze cast in the direction Mecca had walked.
“Last I checked, I was the one they called ‘the Kannibal,’” Khane stated, a hint of laughter in his tone.
My focus fell back on him.