Page 59 of The Biker and the Baker
“Yeah, but if he’s the same ‘freckle-faced asshat’ that you’ve been bitching about sincebeforeyou started at the pastry shop, then I’d say you two have been hate-dating for about a year and change,” she points out. “You know, in an ‘I hate you but I wanna fuck you’ kind of way.”
That makes me scoff. “You’re way,wayoff.” Another scoff. “I hated that bastard so much that lust was thefurthestthing from my mind.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Her grin widens. “But remembering how you used to bitch about him nonstop, and seeing how you look at him now…? Trust me, this thing isn’t new. It’s been a long time in the making.”
“Facts!” Kim calls from the living room again.
“Both of you piss off!”
They cackle like hyenas at my expense.
With an evil smirk, I arch a brow at Mira and ask, “What’s the beef with you and Mom this time?”
That shuts her up, because whatever it is, she doesn’t want me to know, or she would’ve told me about it. “You’re such a jerk, P.”
“No more than you, sis.”
She flips me the bird before heading back out to the living room, leaving me to pack my overnight bag in peace.
Twenty minutes later, I’m kicking back on the couch with Mira and Kim, all packed and ready, when Onyx returns bearing bags of store-bought cookies.
“Whoa,” Mira says through a giggle. “You mustreallylike cookies.” She jabs a thumb at me. “This one’s ‘cookie’ isn’t satisfying enough?”
I throw a pillow at her and she shields herself with her girlfriend.
“Felt guilty that you weren’t able to bake cookies with your nieces today because of me,” Onyx tells me with a shrug. “So I figured I’d get enough to last ’em ‘til next Sunday.”
“Oh, wow. You’re perfect,” Kim murmurs, voice all dreamy.
Now it’s Mira who’s pelting a pillow at her. “Cool your loins, missy.”
“That’s…” I clear my throat. “That’s very thoughtful of you Onyx.” I get up and take the bags of cookies from him. “I really appreciate it. Thank you.”
“No big deal.”
As I’m passing Mira, she tries to grab one of the cookie bags, but I yank it out of her reach. “No.”
“Bitch,” she grumbles.
When I return from stacking the cookies in my pantry, Mira is munching on a Jack Daniel’s chocolate bar, smug as ever.
“Where did you get that?”
She bites into the middle of one of the squares and slurps out the liqueur. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
I look to Onyx. “You gave her that?”
His attempt to beat back a grin is telling. “Was I not allowed to?”
“No. My misbehaving sister is on time out.”
“Because of the gay thing?”
“Yes. She was out of line.”
“Babe, c’mon. My friends grilled the skin off your bones last week. Next to that, Mira’s question was nothing.”
“So unjust. So,sounjust,” Mira comments around her chocolate treat, the mischievous wench.
