Page 29 of Thunder with a Chance of Lovestruck

Henry grinned. “Anyone up for a game? Cards maybe?”

“Did he just ask me to join him in a game?” asked Drest, shock coating his deep voice.

I nodded, doing my best to hide the swell of emotions in me. “He’s probably scared if he doesn’t come up with something to entertain us, Amice and I will make him put on roller skates.”

“I’d pay money to see that,” said Drest.

“You’d demand a refund,” returned Henry, his tone light. “I’d be on my backside too fast to get anything close to your money’s worth.”

Drest laughed more and sipped his wine again. “I’m not about to judge you. I’d fall on them too, Henry.”

I stared between them, shocked to my very core to see them getting along.

“What?” asked Drest with a wink.

“I’m kind of speechless,” I confessed.

“First time for everything,” said Henry, earning him a laugh from us all.

Amice stood.

Drest and Henry did as well.

She started to clear plates, but Henry shook his head.

“I’ll get the plates,” he said. “Go check in on Astria. I know you like to look in on her around this time every night.”

Amice went right for him, went to her tiptoes, and whispered something to him.

Whatever she said left Henry looking pained and like he couldn’t wait to get her upstairs and alone.

I rose to my feet, hoping my roast stayed down. The thought of my brother getting anything close to laid left my dinner threatening to revolt.

I noticed the bottle of wine on the table was nearly empty and jumped on the chance to excuse myself in the event a spontaneous make-out session happened. “I’ll grab more wine.”

Henry laughed at something else Amice said before nodding to me. “Excellent. Bring up two bottles, please.”

Drest’s hand found the swell of my back. “I’ll help.”

I didn’t require help but didn’t mind the idea of having one-on-one time with him.

ChapterEleven

Drest

Drest leanedagainst the archway of the entrance to the Frankenstein family’s wine cellar. He’d seen it once before when he’d been given his initial tour of the house. It reminded him greatly of the home Victor had in Europe.

The Frankensteins were into the finer things in life. The sanctions made it hard for them to go too far overboard. There were only so many things that could be run successfully off the old wiring they were forced to live with. They somehow managed to make the best of a bad situation.

Rachael walked up and down the rows of wine racks, skimming her fingers over the bottles. “Are you sure you don’t want to pick one?”

“I’m good with whatever you decide,” he said, leaning back, his gaze going to the oversize metal door that was there, just outside of the entrance to the wine cellar. Behind the door was Nile’s workshop, where the man tinkered with whatever project he was working on.

The last time Drest had checked the room, Nile had been restoring a vintage radio. Harmless enough, and it didn’t go against the guidelines set forth by the higher-ups. Nile had bored Drest with long, drawn-out talks of radios of old and how they were far superior to anything on the market today. Having no desire to sit through another long discussion on the history of radio, Drest had been putting off doing another spot check of the entire house.

He didn’t want to think about that tonight. All he wanted to do was enjoy his time with Rachael.

As if reading his thoughts, she picked then to bend over and examine a bottle on the lower rack. Her fingers slid over the glass of the bottle and Drest imagined them moving over him, sliding lower and lower. She bent more, and her luscious backside was left aimed at him like an offering.

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