Page 81 of Calamity Rayne Knocked Up

“Last night she talked to me for twenty-five minutes about cuticle care.”

I had a hard time judging what self-care topics were green-lit and blackballed in Seraphina’s world, so I just nodded like I understood why cuticle care was bad. “I just bite my nails.”

“That’s disgusting, Rayne.”

“Bear,” McKinsley mewled,tugging Barrett’s hand like a child. “Let’s ride into town and see what shops are open.”

“Nothing’s going to be open this late in the day.”

“You don’t know that. I saw a few jewelers on the way in.”

Both Phina and I rolled our eyes.

I sniffed her head. “What kind of shampoo do you use? Your hair smells like a lollipop.”

“It’s custom made. I order it from a boutique in Paris.”

“So, not something I can pick up at Target?”

“No.”

Barrett turned McKinsley’s back to the wall, and they kissed. “Well, that’s one way to shut her up.”

“I’d say.”

“Holy crap.” I knew I shouldn’t be watching but I also couldn’t look away. It was like fresh, red district porn. I glanced at Phina. “How are you not grossed out by this?”

“They’re just kissing.”

No. That was a lot more than a kiss. This was old school, hip gyrating, dry-humping, bump-n-grinding. “Looks French.”

“He kisses every woman like that.”

McKinsley let out a low, sexual moan.

“That’s it.” I flushed the toilet and turned the faucet on full blast, alerting the couple that someone was in the bathroom. “I’m out of here.”

Barrett sprung away from McKinsley the moment I opened the door. “Meyers.”

“Davenport.” I kept my head down. “I was just…you know.” I left Phina in the bathroom to figure her own way out.

Back in the kitchen, Elara was preoccupied with her father as he took direction from Penny and molded the pie crust onto a beveled pie plate. Xander was still there, standing at Hale’s back, bird-dogging the whole display. They both looked up and smiled when I entered.

Weird.

“Hey.” I said, sidling up to my mother. The air smelled delicious, and the Christmas music was an instant mood-setter. I peeked at what Marta was concocting. “That smells divine, Marta.”

“You will love it, Niña. And I make extra so that you can freeze it for home.”

I kissed her sweethead. “Thank you.”

Hugo grimaced. “Too many people. You are all in my way.”

“Hugo,” I said, coming to peek at what he was cooking. “You know, for a guy who literally has the wordhugin his name, you’re about as cuddly as a cactus.”

He grumbled something in Dutch.

“A language barrier’s not going to stop us from being friends.”

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