Page 43 of Lure

I was almost humming as I collected the supplies together. I made bread enough that the guys enjoyed it, but no one had a sweet tooth. Not really. So cinnamon rolls, which I loved, were something I rarely indulged in. I’d make them daily if necessary to keep feeding the sudden light that had appeared in her eyes at the mention of them.

“What are we doing?” Voodoo asked as he made his way through the kitchen. Hair still damp from the shower, he was already armed and had my list for the supply run he was about to do.

“Making cinnamon rolls,” I told him. “I have a few more items to add to the list. I’ll text you once I get these ready to go.”

Eyebrows lifted, Voodoo studied me for a moment. “She gave you a favorite?”

“Not directly.” Because she really hadn’t. “But when I mentioned them…” I spread my hands and he nodded. “How is she sleeping?”

“Still badly.” Voodoo sighed. “I thought last night was the best one she’s had in a while. The nightmares worry me.”

“We can’t help her until she talks about it or is willing to.” That advice still sounded as shitty now as it had when the doctors informed us of that for both DocandAlphabet.

Fucking bullshit. There had to be a way to help someone even when they weren’t there yet. Watching her suffer sucked.

“I’m not a fan of that advice any more than you are.” Voodoo ducked into the mudroom and returned with a suede duster. “Unfortunately, we can’t make her trust us.”

No, but I thought she trusted us more than she was willing to admit. Unsurprisingly, Bones appeared, also ready to go. We had some leads on the group that hired us and sold us out. They were trying to hide.

It wasn’t going to last long.

“We’ll be back later this afternoon,” he informed me. “Keep an eye on Alphabet.”

“Always have one eye on him.” I was working the dough slowly. I needed to get it folded together before I rolled it out. Not that Bones waited for the answer so much as just strode out.

“Today is going to be fun.” The dry as a desert deadpan comment from Voodoo made me grin.

“Happy hunting.”

He answered with a middle finger before following Bones out. Snorting, I made swift work of the dough and getting it rolled out. My hum returned as I spread the butter over the flattened dough then the brown sugar and cinnamon.

With care, I rolled it up before slicing each section. I set the first rounds into a glass baking dish then set it aside to rise before starting on the next one. Better to make a couple dozen, maybe more. I’d make sure Gracie got hers. I doubted the guys would have a problem with letting her have hers, but better to be safer than sorry.

The only bad plan was not having one. I kept one eye on the stairs while I rolled out the next. I had three glass baking dishes set up to rise by the time Grace descended the stairs. She’d showered. Her thick, dark hair fell in a straight line. The damp strands seemed even darker than usual but there was already the hint of waves appearing at the ends.

She slowed on the last step and gave the area a slow glance. Checking for the others? The hesitation put her right between a shadow from the hallway and a faint trail of light beaming down from one of the skylights above. The gritty, raw woman dripping with sweat and panting from the gym was gone, leaving behind a far more ethereal one.

When she turned those brilliant blue eyes in my direction they seemed to shimmer. The contrast seemed to frame her, trapped in a moment between vulnerability and strength.

Just like that, it was over. Her eyes shuttered and her expression smoothed to something more neutral. The imaginary snap of shutters closing echoed through me. Right.

She was protecting herself. How could I possibly fault her? No matter how much it pissed me off that she saw us as something she needed protection from. No matter how far down we managed to get the walls, she’d shore them up and they’d be high again.

I summoned up a smile. “Feel better?” It was a weak ass fucking question but we had to start somewhere. Voodoo had been working on her. Goblin too. I was pretty sure somewherein there, she and Alphabet were fighting to form some kind of friendship.

That meant I could damn well do my part.

“Oddly,” she said, folding her arms to cross the living room toward the kitchen. “I kind of do. I mean, I’m tired but I’m also… energized? Not sure that’s the right word.”

She’d dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, leggings that made her seem even younger and smaller somehow, and a pair of huge fluffy socks that climbed almost to her knees.

“Sounds good,” I told her and then glanced at the glass dishes before checking the time on my watch. At this altitude, the yeast rose faster, which meant these fast-rising rolls would be ready for the oven in half the time they would elsewhere.

Useful.

“Are the others off on some mission?” The quiet question pulled my attention as I shifted to the espresso machine. She liked flat whites. I could do that.

“Sort of,” I told her. “Voodoo and Bones went on a supply run. Alphabet’s sleeping in.”

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