Page 36 of Love Him Like Water

“Oh, I’m wearing her down,” he said, his easy confidence an aura he wore around him all the time.

“Sure. Sure you are,” I agreed, shaking my head at him.

“Food!” Rico called, coming in with his arms piled high with boxes of pizza, and one box on top that likely had subs or meals inside.

“That yours?” I asked as he pulled one of the foil-wrapped hot subs out of the top box, and placed it on the top of the microwave.

“No,” Rico said, rummaging for paper plates. “Elian caught up with me and told me to order an eggplant parm,” he said. “For your wife,” he added in a way that suggested he thought that I’d given the order for Elian to talk to Rico about what she wanted.

But I hadn’t.

Elian, it seemed, knew my wife better than I did.

Something bubbled up inside me, a sick, swirling sensation it took a long moment to recognize as fucking jealousy.

The fuck was that about?

Elian was as loyal as they came.

There was no way he was being inappropriate with Lore.

But, still, he knew shit about her that I didn’t.

And, apparently, I didn’t like that.

“Right. Yeah, thanks for grabbing that,” I said, my gaze slipping toward the bedroom door, wondering if she was going to show her face.

She didn’t seem like the partying type.

She was so fucking shy and quiet.

I didn’t see her happily joining a party full of strangers.

“When am I going to get to use my charms on that wife of yours?” Dav asked.

“Never,” I declared, getting a smile out of him.

“Hey, you picking up reading?” another of my men asked, waving a thick fucking hardcover book around.

A book.

Lord knew I didn’t enjoy reading.

But, clearly, Lore did.

I was surprised by the joy I felt at seeing something of hers sitting around in the common area, evidence of her existence outside of the bedroom.

“Don’t touch her shit,” I said, voice casual, but he brought the book over to me, setting it on the island.

“It’ll get spilled on over there,” he said, shrugging, and walking off.

I reached for the book, a fucking solid tome with the book page edges painted to make a scene featuring some sort of castle.

I didn’t know shit about book genres, but the art on the cover gave me fantasy vibes as I moved it out of the kitchen, setting it on the table just inside the door.

Had she brought the book with her, I wondered as I joined the party, but found myself too distracted to focus. Or had she gone out shopping?

The thought felt strange.

---