Not a bad idea. Kai had to make a conscious effort to recall what they were talking about. Pool, Sawyer, Pippa...back on track. Marginally.
Flick rolled her shoulders, clearly trying to loosen the tension in those taut muscles. “Anyway, they’re fun to watch.”
Flick took a sip of wine and waited for Kai to pick up the conversational ball and run with it. She’d have to wait a while, because he was fully at ease, happy to drink his beer and just look at her. He was obviously far more comfortable with silence than her and, after a minute of his hot-eyed gaze, she looked like she was about to jump out of her skin. Or about to jump him... which he knew Jack wouldn’t appreciate.
Jack, as Sawyer told him earlier, had been known to toss a bucket of ice over a couple who got too touchy-feely. And if that someone was his sister?
It wouldn’t be pretty.
After a minute of silence, Flick shifted in her seat and broke the tension. “So, did you enjoy the pastries what’s-her-name bought?”
He heard the tart note in her voice and hid his smile. Was that jealousy? And why did he like hearing it on her lips when he hated it from other women?
“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious as to who ReAnn is and how she fits into the Caswallawn picture,” Flick said, lifting her nose in the air. What a little liar.
Are you sleeping with her?Kai heard the silent question as loudly as if she’d spoken it.
“Her name is Reagan and no, I didn’t get a chance to eat the pastries. The bastards ate them before I got back to the office. There will be retribution,” Kai added, frowning. “Maybe I’ll wake them both up extra early tomorrow morning for a very long run.”
“Where is she tonight?” Flick asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“That’s one of your tells,” Kai said, keeping his tone conversational.
“My what?”
“You try to sound casual but you tuck your hair behind your ear every time you feel uneasy.” He touched her earlobe with the tip of his finger and he felt her quick shudder. “You did it when we met, and when you asked me to take you to bed.”
Flick started to tuck her hair back, glared at his amused grin, and lifted her wine glass to her mouth. After another very healthy sip, she spoke again. “We were talking about your friend.”
“Reags? She was tired and opted for bed.”
“Yours?” Flick asked, as forthright as ever. Kai liked forthright people. He liked the fact that if she wanted an answer, she asked the question.
“Reagan is like our little sister. She’s in my guest room, Green Eyes. She’s—”
He opened his mouth to tell her that she was Mike’s sister, but shook his head instead, dismayed. Just like he never discussed his mother and his childhood, he never spoke about Mike, even to Sawyer and Axl. Like so many others, Mike was an off-limits subject. Besides, he couldn’t change the past, so what was the point in talking about it? Kai straightened his back and pulled in a harsh breath. The fact that she had the ability to loosen his tongue was just another reason why he needed to stay the hell away from her. Except that he was having difficulty getting up and off his barstool to walk away.
When her friends came back, he lied to himself. It would be rude to leave her sitting on her own. Even if she grew up in this town and knew practically everyone in here and her brother was behind the bar...still rude.
Liar, liar, Mogadishu’s on fire, he mocked himself.You just don’t wanna go.Not just yet.
Flick’s low laugh brought him back from his internal monologue. “Well, that was a hell of a side trip. I was asking whether you liked my baking and you went on a mental hike.”
Kai rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry.” Kai rubbed the back of his neck.
“Getting back to the subject, you’ve got to be fast when there’s a box of my cakes or pastries in the room. Haven’t you learned that yet? And it was your fault for leaving without your coffee or cupcakes the other day. Didn’t Sawyer save you any of those either?” Flick asked, amused.
“Have you met Sawyer?” Kai demanded. “Though, to be fair, I probably wouldn’t have saved him any either.” He looked her in the eye. “So, how much of an idiot did you think I was for thinking that your dog was your boyfriend?”
Flick’s eyes bubbled with mischief as she waved her hand in the air. “Actually, it was sweet, you jumping to my defense. And six months ago, it was highly possible that I would’ve been talking about a boyfriend and not a dog.”
Flick stared at her wine glass and tapped her nail against the stem. The laughter faded from her eyes and her mouth and jaw tightened. Playtime was over. When she looked up at him, through long lashes, her expression was serious and a little sad. “I have terrible taste in men,” she admitted reluctantly.
What was he supposed to say to that? “Okay.”
“And dogs,” Flick added. “I will always pick the man or a dog who will give me the maximum amount of grief in the shortest time possible.”
Ah, not exactly subtle, Ms Sturgiss. “And you think I’m that type of guy?”