Page 110 of Keep Him Like Secrets

“I know,” I agreed, giving Soren a small smile as he filled my mug.

“I guess you do,” Renzo said, nodding.

“Are we really doing this now? It’s, like six in the morning.”

To that, the two men shared a look, then almost matching chuckles.

“Darlin’, it’s eleven,” Soren informed me.

“Oh. Well… yesterday was a lot.”

“Hence why I am here,” Renzo said.

“I will talk to you about—”

“No need. We already talked it all out—me and your man here.”

“You… talked it all out? Without me?”

“Everything we discussed last night,” Soren said, tone calming. “And he may or may not have thrown in a speech about not hurting you… or else. I get the feeling ‘or else’ might involve cement shoes and the bottom of the bay.”

“Nah. We don’t throw bodies in the bay,” Renzo said. Then, with a smirk, added, “Anymore.”

“So, what’s the consensus?” I asked, wondering if the idea that sounded so promising the day before was too crazy after all.

“I think it has merit. If your stubborn ass would be willing to go legit.”

“I went legit for this job,” I reminded him.

“Barely. You didn’t even dye your hair.”

“Sure I did. Almost weekly.”

He shook his head at that.

“You sure this is what you want to sign up for a lifetime of?” he asked, shooting me a smile as he spoke to Soren.

“Pretty sure,” Soren said.

“Alright. Well, I’m gonna cut out. We will talk in the coming days,” he said to me. “You should lock this shit down,” he said, pointing his thumb toward Soren. “He cooks.”

With that, he was gone, leaving me to turn to Soren.

“Speaking of cooking. I don’t own anything to cookwith, so what is all of this?” I asked, waving a hand toward the island and the stove, which featured fancy pots, pans, and even a big mixing bowl.

“This is the result of waking up at five while knowing you wouldn’t drag your pretty ass out of bed until nine, so I ordered some things to get delivered.”

“Some?” I asked, glancing around. “It looks like the entire home goods section.”

“You only had… three spoons. Three spoons. Three forks. Three knives.”

“They were sold in three packs.”

“In three packs? Where is silverware sold in three packs?” he asked, brows pinched.

“The dollar store,” I admitted. “I was there buying gift bags because there’s no way I’m spending ten bucks on those at the normal store. And I saw them, realized I needed them, and got them.”

“Did you also happen to buy these there?” he asked, opening the cabinet where I kept my bowls.

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