Page 76 of Renegade Rift

“No. The prick won’t answer mine either.” Soph crosses her arms over her chest, and I know damn well she’s more than a little irritated, because I feel the same way. “Though I know he’s enjoying the takeout I send regularly from the Chicago restaurant to make sure he’s eating something other than those damn sour worms.”

“Well, he won’t be able to avoid us once we’re all in the same city.”

Juliet tenses in my arms, and I could kick myself for my choice of words. Because even though it’s a different situation entirely, Juliet did exactly that for the better part of a year.

Soph scoffs. “If he tries to hide, I’ll find him. Probably with the pointy end of my carving knife.”

Juliet snorts a laugh, and I shoot Soph an appreciative smile over her head for easing the tension.

She gives me a subtle nod of understanding.

I think Sophia and Sydney could be the perfect addition to Juliet and Paige’s duo. Then again, together Paige and Soph might actually convince Juliet to commit murder, and I think I’d like to keep her out of prison.

Soph looks down at her watch and sighs. “Well, I better get back to my duties.” She reaches out and takes Juliet’s hand between her own, offering her a pointed stare. “Promise me you’ll think about my offer, Etta.”

“Thank you so much.I will.”

The second Soph is gone, Juliet slips from between my legs and slides onto the mushroom barstool next to me.

“Were you uncomfortable in my arms?” I ask, not only because I’d very much like her back there, but I need to know if I pushed her too far.

“No I…I just…” Her voice trails off and she concentrates on the wall of liquor behind the bar. “I don’t know how to do this. It’s been a long time since anyone held me like that.”

“Do you not want to be held?”

“I do.” She chews her lower lip, and I watch the war behind her eyes. “It’s just—can I hold you back?”

“That’s your hesitation?”

“I didn’t—I don’t know what’s okay anymore. This all feels foreign to me.”

I could argue that not even three hours ago she found comfort in my arms after the disaster at the door and knew exactly what to do. But this is different. This is a date and as my mom would say: Touching leads to spooning, and spooning leads to forking so be sure with your touches and don’t share your utensils unless you mean it.

It’s such a stupid saying, but I’ve never forgotten it or the sentiment.

And now all I can think about is Juliet forking someone other than me.

Over my dead body.

And yet, I’m still committed to teaching her even if it means breaking my own heart when she walks away.

But before I can move forward, I need to know. “Is it because it’s me that it feels foreign or uncomfortable?”

“No.” Relief floods through me at her immediate response. “I like that it’s you. It’s just I don’t know what to do with my hands or how to gauge if a man wants me to touch him.”

Oh my sweet innocent, Juliet.

I almost feel bad being the one to corrupt her.

Almost.

I open my arms and the space between my thighs. “Come here.”

Juliet eyes the space before she slips from her stool and steps into me. We’re almost eye to eye at this height, and I keep mine locked on hers, willing her to understand she’s got the lead on this. She has to, because there is no way I can think clearly. Not with her this close and those red lips parted like she’s debating whether she should voice all the wants dancing in that pretty little head of hers.

“Like this?”

“Yup.” My voice strains and I swallow hard.

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