Page 26 of Don't Bait Me (Nora Jacobs 3)

I bite my lip, and Parker steps back with a sigh. “Get some rest, and we’ll figure out a game plan for finding this killer as soon as I get here tomorrow.”

My heart lifts. “You really think there’s something we can do?”

He nods. “We’ll figure something out. You’ll see.”

Between my failure atthe fey crime scene, my mind-blowing kiss with Parker, and the anticipation of him and Oliver moving in, I have a restless night and spend my entire afternoon pacing the den. After one too many trips from my bedroom to the living room and back, Terrance calls out to me from his office. “Nora, if you don’t relax, I’m going to duct tape your ass to the couch.”

It’s not wise to annoy a troll, even one who loves you like family, so I plop down on the couch with a sigh and reach for the remote. After a few minutes aimlessly browsing Netflix, the doorbell rings. Excitement explodes through my entire body. Finally! “I got it!”

I hustle up the stairs, and a smile splits my face when I open the door to find Oliver standing there with a box in his arms. I feel warm despite the frigid winter air. Oliver has that effect on me. He’s my sunshine. “Hey,” he says a little shyly.

His cheeks are red, and I can’t tell if it’s from a blush or the cold weather. He hasn’t been shy around me in a long time, but he’s here to move in with me. Even if it’s not a boyfriend/girlfriend type of moving in together, it’s still huge. I understand his nerves, because I’m a little anxious myself. “Hi,” I say. I grin at the random snowflakes stuck to his beanie. “It’s really coming down out there, huh?”

Oliver nods. “At least I don’t have a whole lot of stuff to bring in.”

“Good. Let’s get it done fast.”

I reach for the box he’s holding. He hands it over without protest and heads back to his car for more stuff. I hurry downstairs and catch Terrance coming out of his office as I drop the box off on Oliver’s bed. Between the three of us, it only takes one trip to get all of Oliver’s stuff inside. “That’s it?” I ask, looking at the two boxes, laundry basket, duffle bag, and a pile of work suits lying out on his bed. Since he didn’t need to bring any household items, he’s got as little things as I did when I moved in.

I point to the stuff piled on his bed. “Do you want some help unpacking, or do you need to go?”

He glances at his watch. “I have a few minutes before I have to go.”

“Have you eaten?” Terrance asks. Oliver shakes his head. “I’ll make you a sandwich.”

Oliver, surprised by the offer, shakes his head again. “That’s all right. I can just grab something on my way to work.”

I smirk because I know what’s coming, and sure enough, Terrance gives Oliver his no-nonsense stare. “I’ll make you a sandwich,” he demands, leaving no room for arguments. “You want turkey or roast beef?”

Poor Oliver is completely tongue-tied. “Um…”

“He likes roast beef,” I tell Terrance and then chuckle when Oliver watches Terrance leave the room, still completely flustered.

“You’re clan now,” I say softly. “Family. Terrance is the head of this clan, and he takes it very seriously. He’s going to take care of you whether you let him or not. Arguing with him on it is futile. Believe me, I know.”

Oliver swallows and blinks his eyes a few times. I don’t need to hear his thoughts to know he’s fighting some serious emotions.

“You get used to it,” I say, squeezing his shoulder once before reaching for the suits on his bed. I know exactly how overwhelming it is to have someone care for you when you’ve been on your own for so long.

Oliver pulls himself together and wordlessly reaches for his duffle bag. I hang up his suits in his closet while he starts putting clothes in his dresser. When I’m done, I open one of the boxes. Inside is a random collection of items, one of which is a framed photo of Oliver with a cute woman with curly blonde hair who’s maybe a couple of years younger than him. The picture was taken selfie style with the woman holding the camera. She has her arm around Oliver and is squeezing him tight while she smiles brilliantly for the camera. Oliver’s smile is more hesitant, almost chagrined, and his cheeks are slightly pink. He looks adorably uncomfortable and yet happy at the same time.

Something ignites inside me, sweeping through my entire body, filling me with anger. It takes me a moment to recognize it as jealousy. I have absolutely no right to feel that way considering I’m currently sort-of dating three men at once, but the thought of Oliver being with another woman makes me sick to my stomach. “Who’s this?” I ask, trying my best to sound nonchalant.

Oliver’s face brightens when he sees the photo I’m holding up. “That’s Elle.”

Surprise replaces my jealousy along with an immense sense of relief. “Your little sister, Elle?”

Oliver nods, grinning. “In all her crazy glory.”

That makes me smile. “She looks fun. And she’s almost as adorable as you.”

Oliver rolls his eyes and goes back to unpacking his clothes.

Looking closer, I can see a subtle resemblance. They’re so cute together. I’m glad Oliver has at least a picture of her.

Oliver was kicked out of the house when he turned eighteen. He was disowned and disinherited by his parents. The sorcerer community shunned him because he’s the strongest sorcerer in practically all of the Midwest but refuses to use his magic. They think he’s a disgrace, and his parents think he’s an embarrassment. He never cared much about losing his parents—he’s never had anything nice to say about them—but he talks about his little sister often.

“I thought you haven’t seen your family since you were eighteen,” I say as I place the photo on top of his dresser. Oliver and Elle are a lot older than fifteen and eighteen in this picture. “This photo is recent.”

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