Page 68 of Love, Hate, Love

“How did you manage to get your hands on such an old and valuable painting like that?”

I stiffened for a split second before catching myself and falling into calm movements again. “It just fell into my lap.”

It was one of the first times I’d openly discussed the painting with him, and his focus narrowed in. Kade’s antenna went up way too fast and accurately. I felt like I’d just stepped out on a frozen lake on a sunny spring day.

“Come on, you have to give me more than that. It’s not like you can get tried again.”

“I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t want to discuss it when I’ve got bigger issues coming, like looking like a hussy at this wedding.”

“No one is going to think you’re a hussy.” He brushed a loose hair away from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear.

“What was that?” I asked.

“What?” he asked, shrugging. “You had hair about to go in your eye.”

I wasn’t going to fall for this man, not again. Last time I’d caught feelings for him he’d crushed them under his heel like a dirty cigarette butt.

“You don’t have to lay the act on quite so thick,” I said.

“What act?” There was pure innocence in his eyes.

“The nice act. I can’t take it anymore. I’d rather you just be an asshole. It’s easier.”

“What if I don’t want to be?” he asked, smirking.

“You’ll get the urge again.” I grabbed the tin of cookies that had come with the dress off the mantel. This was a day that definitely called for cookies.

“What do you have?” He tilted his head back, as if the butter in the shortbread cookies was luring him like a candy-crazed bloodhound.

“They’re mine,” I said.

“But what are they?”

“You know what they are. They’re cookies from Cassie, and I’m not sharing,” I said, hugging the tin to my chest.

“You know how I feel about shortbread cookies. You’re really going to eat that entire container yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Give me a cookie.”

“No. The note explicitly said not to share with you.”

“Cassie wrote a note telling you not to share with me?”

“Technically the note said ‘eat the whole tin yourself,’ but that means the same thing.”

I put the lid on the tin, keeping it close.

“We’re supposed to have a truce.Thisis not truce-like behavior. I told you there would be consequences if you broke the truce.”

“You are not getting my cookies,” I said, backing up.

“Then you suffer the consequences.”

I took off around the couch, but he lunged over it. He grabbed me around the waist, bringing me to the floor with him as he straddled me and started tickling me.

“Stop,” I said in between laughing. “I’ll give you cookies.”

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