Page 24 of From Ice to Grace
Her breath hitches, whether from anger or hurt, I don’t know. She clearly bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head.
“You know what, Murphy, I don’t have to stand here and listen to this,” she says before shoving past me.
“Wait.” The word is out before I can stop myself. I reach for her wrist, holding her light enough that she can pull away if she wants to. My gaze travels over her once again, she’s clearly rattled—something even the jerk in me can recognize. “Are you okay?”
Maybe teasing her wasn’t the best option. It’s just that it’s the first thing that comes to mind when I’m in her presence. Her eyes turn soft for a second.
I’ve sparred with her, seen her blue eyes turn glacial when she tells me how bad I treat women, but I’ve never seen her look at me like that. I latch onto it, unable to let it go. It’s a distraction from the rest of the chaos ensuing in my mind. It’s different, it’s new, and I want more of it.
I have no idea why.
Before I know it, she lifts her chin, defiance flickering in her gaze once again.
“Why do you care?” she asks, ripping her hand from my grasp. “I’m perfect, remember? Perfect people don’t cry.”
With that she turns away from me, leaving me alone with a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. She might be upset, but the fire in her is still burning and I’m drawn to the warmth of it. Maybe it’s because arguing with her, baiting her and challenging her, is safer for me and my game than any of the other activities I’ve had to distract myself with.
It’s safer than getting too entangled with Melissa, and it’s definitely safer than the contents of a bottle of bourbon.
I can’t get an Avah hangover.
After finishing up in the bathroom, I head to the dining room. Avah’s presence is unavoidable as she adds the finishing touches to a few napkins before taking her seat.
With a small chuckle, I take in the large table that’s set with plates, napkins, glasses…the works if you ask me. I don’t know when was the last time I had dinner around a table.
Maybe a few times when I grew up, but definitely not since I’ve gone pro.
And now? Now, Lindgren and I eat over the sink, or on the couch. Like men.
“This looks so good, Hannah,” EJ says, taking a seat next to his sister.
I do the wise thing…and sit directly across from her.
Since we’re in season, Hannah made sure to add a giant salad and roast vegetables to the menu, along with a decent steak for each of us. The garlic bread on the other side of the table is undoubtedly for her and Avah…and those of us who struggle with self-control.
Lindgren eyes the hot bread with longing eyes.
“None for you,” I tell him. “Rookies don’t get cheat days on their diet.”
“You suck,” he mumbles, adding another spoon of vegetables to his already full plate.
Adjusting my legs beneath the table, I come into contact with something. Judging by the look on Avah’s face, it must be her feet. I linger a while, wondering if she’ll move hers first or…
A sharp kick gives me the answer before she moves her feet away from mine.
The cold stare from opposite the table is a few degrees icier than a few minutes ago. The slight warmth vanished and I give her my signature smile, the one that makes most women forget the rules they’ve set for themselves. Avah rolls her eyes before almost violently depositing some vegetables into EJ’s plate.
“What’s up, Murphy?” EJ asks, his eyes dancing between me and his sister.
“Nothing at all,” I say with a smile, picking up my knife and fork. “Let’s eat.”
“Let’s say grace first,” Lucas says from the head of the table, taking his wife’s hand, and holding the other hand out to Nikolai on his left.
Great.
I wipe my hands on my sweats, aware of the fact that I’ll have to hold hands with Lindgren and Hannah. Hannah I’m good with…it’s Lindgren that I don’t particularly want to be holding hands with. Say what you want, it’s a guy thing.
“Thank you for the food we’re about to receive, Father. We ask that you bless it to our bodies, and that you will keep Your Hand over each and every one of us through the night ahead. Amen.”
