Page 19 of Secrets and S'mores
Eyeing her figure, I can’t see where she would have tucked a knife or other weapon, but after several battles and serious injuries, I know to trust my instincts. “Are you lying?”
Her face brightens into a true smile, although it’s more a devious grin than something joyful. I’m still shocked by the difference. She’s stunning. “Come find out.”
It takes all my self-control to not launch myself at her. But the possibility of injury lingers in the back of my mind. “Ember, I don’t want to get stabbed again. You’re looking a little stabby right now.”
That smile reappears, like a punch in the gut. It’ll be impossible to fight her when I’m distracted by it. “Look, I promise I won’t stab you.”
I hold out my hand, the littlest finger extended in a childhood ritual.
“Really? A pinkie promise?” she asks, but she takes my finger with her own. With a light shake, weseal the vow.
The second my hand leaves hers, she attacks. Considering the girl comes up to my collarbone, she is shockingly aggressive.
Her hands grab my shoulder, jerking me forward while her knee comes up to hit the inside of my thigh. Too close to my balls for comfort. Between the pain and the instinct to curl up protectively, my body goes down hard. She shoves me to the floor at her feet, and I roll over to look up at her smug smile with that enticing dimple.
Struggling to draw in breath, I push myself into a seated position. “Damn, I did not expect that.”
Ember gives a little shrug and offers her hand. The need for revenge pulses through me. Instead of allowing her to help me up, I yank her down, hooking my foot behind her ankle and drawing my knees up to pull her feet out from under her as she tries to compensate for the pull of my grip.
With a snarl, she lands on her ass, hands catching her before she falls entirely flat. “Dick,” she growls.
“You didn’t fight fair. Why should I?”
“How was that unfair?”
We sit facing each other, our glares more playful than malevolent. After a few deep breaths, I push up to my feet and offer my own hand. She swats it away and rises gracefully.
“You really think you can handle me?” she taunts, beginning to circle me. My feet move without thought. I may not have the discipline or skill that comes from daily effort, but I was raised by the pack’s Delta, and the basics are built into my blood. When we were kids, Icould best Slate easily, though he outpaced me somewhere around age twelve. In the last year, I’ve taken my training seriously now that I hold a pack ranking.
Ember darts in, swinging with a closed fist. My arms are longer than hers and I hold her back with a hand to her chest, right below her neck. Her wide eyes blink at me for a second, and I use the pause to slide my hand up to her throat with a soft grip.
Her mouth opens, eyes dilated. Her expression is distracting, and I run my thumb along her skin. In that instant, Ember leans back and kicks forward, the bottom of her foot connecting with my stomach. Stumbling back, I struggle to find my footing. She doesn’t wait for me to recover.
Teeth bared, she leaps at me. Twirling out of my grasp, she slams a fist into my ribs. Instead of letting her get enough distance for another hard strike, I grab her waist and drop to the mat.
On the ground, I use my size to pin her, carefully restraining her wrists. She growls up at me. “That would never work in a real fight.”
“Maybe,” I reply. “What’s this?”
Gingerly, I slide a small knife from her waistband.
“That’s just for emergencies,” she snaps. “Give it back!”
My brows pinch at the fear in her voice. “Ember, you don’t need it here.”
“I don’t trust anyone here. Don’t you dare,” she snarls.
My grip on her weapon tightens. “After all this time we’ve spent together, you don’t trust me?” I mean it as a joke, but some part of me is actually hurt.
“Why would I?” she spits.
“You said you didn’t have a weapon.”
“I told you to find out.”
“Well, I did. And I think I’ll hold on to this for now. You can have it back afterward. I wouldn’t want you to slip and hurt yourself. Or me.” Her eyes blaze as I set it to the side of the mat. Considering how angry she looks, it’s not safe to let her keep it. I like my body without knives embedded in it, thank you very much.
Ember rolls to get her feet under her and I move with her to stay close, my head dipped toward her’s. The second we are further apart, she will punch me in the face. I can sense that truth with every bit of my intuition. The result is that we stand chest to chest, her dark hazel eyes looking up at me in surprise.
