Page 192 of Moon's Promise

“What’s wrong?” Larissa asked.

“You want to tell me how you left with your family yet ended up coming home with Jesus?”

Stunned that he was showing her a high and mighty attitude after she had caught him riding with Saffron today sent her blood simmering.

“They weren’t ready to leave, and when Killyama saw Jesus and Keller were leaving, she asked them if they would bring me home so Mom and my sisters could stay.”

“You should have called me, and I would have come and got you.”

Her hands went to her hips. “Why on earth would I have you take the baby out to pick me up”—Larissa pointed at the baby monitor in his hand—“rather than me accepting a ride from Jesus?”

“Because he has the morals of a fucking alley cat, and he knows you’re my old lady. Your ass has no business being on any motorcycle except mine.”

She gaped at him. “You big hypocrite!” She angrily whacked him on his arrogant chest with her purse. “You’re making a big deal of me riding with Jesus, yet you were all kissy face with Saffron!” she screeched at him.

“Yeah, I am!” he snarled. “And I was not all kissy face with Saffron!”

Her anger reached a boiling point. Normally, she would run a mile to keep from having an argument, but Moon being so blatantly unreasonable was more than her pacifist soul could take.

Spinning around, she faced Jesus. “Does this look kissy face to you?” Before Jesus could jerk his face away, she pressed her cheek to his.

“What the fuck!”

Feeling Moon’s hand on her forearm, she whacked him with her purse again as she stepped away from Jesus.

“Ouch! That fucking hurts,” Moon complained, moving out of her reach.

“Good.” Giving him a look of pure satisfaction, she turned back to the two men on their motorcycles. “Well?” she snapped.

Confusion filled their faces.

“Well what?”

“Did that look kissy-kissy to you?”

Jesus seemed unsure about the best way to reply, while Keller burst into laughter.

“Totally kissy-kissy,” he agreed.

“See! I told you!” Turning, she went to walk past Moon, only to stop mid-stride to whack him again.

“Give me that.” Snatching the small purse out of her hand, he raised it over his head, out of reach.

She refused to give him the pleasure of jumping for it, so she kicked him instead. “Keep it.” Relishing the way he warily moved to the side when she continued on past him was the best part of her stinking day. “Why don’t you shove it where the sun doesn’t shine, you”—there were several names she could have used to describe what she thought of Moon, but she settled on the most appropriate one—“prick.”

She stormed inside the house but caught herself before she slammed the door shut, not wanting to wake Jace.

Leaving the door ajar, she flounced angrily into her bedroom, coming to a stop when she saw Jace’s crib was empty. Was he in the crib in the living room?

She was about to head to the living room when a thought entered her mind as she passed the nursey. Opening the door to Jace’s room, she saw the small lamp on his bureau was on. The room was dim, but she could easily see Jace sleeping in his crib.

Crossing the room, she smiled lovingly at her son. As he slept with a crunched-up face, he looked so much like Moon that she felt tears swimming in her eyes. She wanted to pick him up for a cuddle but restrained herself, turning instead to tiptoe quietly from the room, only to come to a stop at seeing Moon in the doorway.

Brushing past him, she went into their room and pulled a nightgown out of her dresser.

“Are you planning to ignore me for the rest of the night?”

He was standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest as if waiting for an apology. It blew her mind.

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