Page 45 of To Curse A Knight

“Icooked this meal,” Cam said, matching Logan’s challenging stare. “You prepped the carrots and potatoes. A monkey can do that.”

Drew, Cam, and Winter joined in, and the six of them were soon chattering back and forth over who in the family contributed the most brains to their operation, and whatactuallyclassified as cooking. Lucky and I watched on with amusement; the overwhelming feeling of having dinner in a happy home settled contentedly in my gut.

Shane broke off from the chatter and reached across the table for another helping of glazed carrots, tossing a wink at my smug companion. “You’re in now, man. You’ve just made her day.”

Myheart sunk a little into my chest at the way Winter had grinned at Lucky, the lie sitting heavy in my stomach. I hated concealing yet another thing from her, but the clusterfuck that was my life was far too complicated to get into right now. One day, I hoped to confess all of my sins, knowing she would forgive me for every one of them; I would never forgive myself if her family was harmed in my crossfire.

I understood Kellan’s motives for keeping his distance from his family, even when I knew how much they meant to him. But I had a seat at his table. And we drank from the same cup of poison made from the blood of our enemies. His distance from me wasn’t warranted, and I wouldn’t put up with that bullshit narrative much longer.

The rest of dinner continued and the usual chatter and banter of Winter’s crew was a balm to my heart. They’d just gotten back from their Christmas vacation abroad—the annual gift I’d given them since they’d gotten married a few years ago. I loved hearing about their adventures in the Costa Rican jungle or in the outback of Australia; it was a treat to give Winter something where she could make lasting memories surrounded by the people she loved.

These men took such good care of her, and tonight, my beautiful best friend radiated contentment.

I swatted at the zing of jealousy that shot up my spine, wondering what being content would feel like. Would I find it pleasantly peaceful, or debilitating and boring? Would I even recognize the emotion, or would I unwittingly destroy it with more chaos, not understanding what it was?

Controlled chaos was my nature. Contented calm was as foreign to me as ancient Aramaic.

“How old is this little man this weekend?” Lucky asked, playing dumb as Travis and Shane stood to clear our plates from the table.

“Almost a year.” Drew ruffled the baby’s butter-crusted hair affectionately. Noble spit a drooly wad of potato at him, and giggled at the sound. The goopy slop landed with a squelching plop.

“Alright, little man,” Lucky bent down to eye level in front of the highchair, risking a potato spit kiss in the eye to speak to the devil. He held up the brightly colored plastic spoon. “Now yeh see it”—with a flash of his hands, the spoon disappeared from view—“now you don’t!”

Noble shrieked with glee and clapped his hands wildly at the amateur trick, a fit of giggles erupting from his little belly.

“Ah, you like that one, do yeh?” The redheaded magician caught me staring at him and flashed me a thousand-watt smile. “Looks like I impressed your auntie, too. Want to see it again?”

Snorting, I shook my head and stood to help clean the pots. Lucky continued his antics, and loud cackles erupted from the little boy’s lips every few minutes.

“He’s great with kids,” Winter murmured as we stood side by side at the sink, her washing, me drying, satisfied to simply be in each other’s company. “Is he—you know—a serious contender?”

“Are you asking if he’s a contender as my second husband, or to have children with?” I snagged a sip of my wine in between dries, arching a brow at her. “Because the answer to both of them is no.”

“No?” Her lips quirked up at the corners as if choking off a smirk.

“No,” I repeated, downing the last gulp of Sauvignon Blanc and returning to my task. “Lucky is fun, but that’s the extent of it—and I’m never having children.”

“She’s right, love.” The heat of Lucky’s chest pressed against my back as he circled his arms around me in a loose hold.

Eavesdropping bastard. The guys must have taken Noble away to get cleaned up. “I am alotof fun, but that’s reallyall I’m good for. And I had a vasectomy at 20, so I’m not champing at the bit for a redo.”

Huh. That was an interesting nugget of information. When I mentioned I had no interest in being a mother, most men tried to mansplain all the reasons I’d regret it, even going so far as to tell me I’d change my mind in a few years.

I wouldn’t. I loved being an Auntie, but that was where my maternal instinct ended. To hear Lucky felt the same? The acknowledgment shouldn’t stiranyreaction from me, but I felt a tug of something in my belly regardless.

Indigestion from the pound of butter I’d just consumed. The only logical explanation.

Winter’s expression was curious, but she didn’t push it. Lucky gently released me to nudge her out of the way from the sink, taking her place beside me.

“I’ll earn my keep, love.”

Rolling up his shirt sleeves, he dropped his hands into the hot soapy water and started scrubbing. Winter shot me another weighted look of approval and I made a face of exasperation before grabbing the sudsy plate from Lucky’s hand.

“You never told me she had five husbands,” he mused quietly while we finished our menial task. I waited for him to continue, but he just let the statement linger in the air between us.

“I didn’t,” I acknowledged and placed the last batch of cutlery back in the drawer. “Does it matter?”

Drying his hands on the dish towel, he turned around to lean against the sink and folded his arms across his chest. His brows arched in interest.

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