Page 33 of Indulge
And that’s when the front door slams. Heavy footsteps cut through the silence.
Reggie.
He steps into the kitchen, shoulders broad, expression unreadable. His dark eyes flick from Rowan standing too close to me sitting there with syrup smeared across my shirt.
The air drops ten degrees.
Rowan mutters under his breath, “Ah, fuck.”
And I just smile sweetly at Reggie, batting my lashes like I’ve done nothing at all.
“I met your brother.”
16
REGGIE
I push through the door, boots heavy against the polished floor, and head straight for the kitchen.
I’ve been up since the ass crack of dawn, discussing our plans to take down The Preacher, now their latest find has given us two solid leads to torture.
The first thing I see is Rowan. Too close. The second thing I see is Bella sitting there on a stool, her tank top smeared with caramel, cheeks flushed, smiling at me like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
And I know. I fucking know.
Rowan’s hair is still damp, his shirt clinging. He looks like he’s been caught stealing, but he schools his features too quickly. Bella? She doesn’t even flinch. She just stares at me, wide green eyes daring me to say something.
I don’t.
Instead, I strip my jacket off, toss it over a chair, and mutter, “Smells like eggs.”
Rowan clears his throat. “Yeah. Breakfast. You want some?”
“No.” My voice is flat.
I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, unscrew the cap, and take a long swig. My jaw ticks the whole time, and I pray neither of them notices the way my hands tighten on the bottle.
Inside, rage claws through me. Bella is under my skin. But I can’t show that. Not yet. Not in front of Rowan.
So I lean against the counter, arms crossed, face carved into stone. “You two seem to be getting along.”
Rowan flashes that easy grin, the one that makes women melt. “Well, someone’s gotta show her around. You weren’t exactly playing tour guide.”
Bella smirks into her mug, sipping slowly like she’s enjoying the tension. She knows exactly what she’s doing, making me watch her with my brother.
Being the damn brat I know she is.
“Good,” I say, voice sharp enough to cut. “Glad you’re making yourself useful, Rowan.”
His grin falters for just a second. Bella raises a brow at me, like she’s testing how far she can push.
Those green eyes of hers dare me to react, like she wants me to snap.
I don’t.
Instead, I swallow it down, let my face go blank, and lean against the counter. “Rowan,” I say evenly, “get ready for work. You’ll enjoy today's task.”
He freezes for a fraction of a second, then masks it with a shrug. “Yeah, alright.” He wipes his hands on a dish towel, but his eyes flick between me and Bella. Testing. Always testing.
