Page 22 of Betrayed By the Wolf

She didn’t stop moving, her hips shaking back and forth to the rhythm, in those silk pajamas she insisted on wearing. He couldn’t see her face, but her tone was enough to tell him to tread carefully.

“Uh, no, I mean, of course you could. It’s just—“

She snorted and turned around, a shit-eating grin on her face. “I called her up and made her walk me through every step. Pretty sure they’re not going to taste anything like Moira’s, but hey, I tried. You can call me Martha Stewart.”

With Jessa against her chest, she did a little curtsy, then twirled around and kept dancing. Rami forced his gaze away from the way her ass jiggled when she moved and snatched one of the muffins from the tray. They looked like a real muffin. He sniffed one. Smelled like a real muffin. How bad could they be? He took a bite.

It took a moment for the flavor to hit. Vera was watching him, expectant, hips cocked to one side.

“Well? How are they?”

He choked it down. The lump got stuck in his throat, and his eyes watered before, finally, it slid free. “Just a little dry, maybe.”

Her eyes flashed.

“Actually, I think they’d be perfect with a cup of coffee. Is there any coffee left in there?” He grabbed the pot and poured himself a mug of Vera’s industrial-strength brew. It’d scour the taste out of his mouth, at least. “Mmm. Perfect.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Come on, Rami, you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met. They can’t be that bad. I did everything she told me to do.”

He kept his mouth shut and let her try a bite for herself. She didn’t last half as long as he did, spitting the bite out into the sink and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“See?” He laughed. “They’re horrible.”

“Awful,” she agreed. “I have no idea what I did wrong; I swear I did everything Moira told me to. Give me that.” She took his mug and drank half of it down, shaking her head.

“I don’t understand how you can be so bad at cooking.” Rami took Jessa into his arms, cradling the baby against him. “And good morning to you, baby girl. Aren’t you lucky you’re too young for solid food? Yes, you are.”

“Oh, stop it,” Vera said, laughing. “She’s been an angel this morning but it’s coming up on nap time, so we’re about to get the other side of things.”

Vera looked so happy that Rami almost didn’t want to bring up the schedule, but he had to. That smile, the sound of her laughter, made him wish for impossible things.

“So, did you check the schedule for today? It’s my day at the house with Jessa so that means you should be heading out soon. How long do you think it’ll take you to get ready to go?” He felt the temperature in the room drop ten degrees the moment the words left his mouth.

She dumped the muffins into the compost bin and slid the tray into the sink, not looking at him when she replied. “I think if you check the schedule again, you’ll find that you’re wrong.”

He’d made the schedule himself, so he damn well knew it wasn’t wrong. Still, he went over to the calendar on the wall.It was color-coded. Perfectly straight. Vera’s neat handwriting. And it had them together every single day when he wasn’t at work. Frustration flared inside of him. Couldn’t she see that he was doing this for her? Yet she insisted on fighting him every step of the way.

“That isnotthe schedule I made.” He jabbed a finger at the wall.

She turned around, arms crossed. “Because the schedule you made was idiotic. I’m not going to live like that, like I told you. This is the schedule, or I’m out.”

He took three deep breaths. It would be so easy to yell, to let out all the frustration he was carrying, but he couldn’t shake the image of his parents fighting just like that, shouting at each other in the kitchen while he hid in his bedroom. Rami forced down his emotions.

“Do you know how freaky it is when you do that? I can see all of these feelings flash across your face, and then, poof, gone. You close up like a safe. It’s not healthy.”

Rami arched an eyebrow. “You know you do pretty much the same thing, right? You just slip on that emotionless mask whenever you might have to be vulnerable.”

“At least I can talk about things. You refuse. Like the hint of me being upset sends you running for the hills because you can’t handle it.”

“You don’t want to talk about things,” he argued. “You just want to fight.”

“So I could maybe see you have an emotion for once!”

Jessa let out a stream of babbling like she was making her own contribution to the conversation and they both looked at her, ashamed. Vera’s cheeks were pink. Rami’s pulse raced,his frustration coursing just beneath the surface no matter how hard he tried to bury it.

Vera was just bad for him. When she was around, he couldn’t keep level, couldn’t fight the emotions that roiled through him.

“You’re right, Jessa.” Vera ran her fingers through her hair and gave her head a little shake. “It’s nap time for you. Come on, I’ll help.”

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