Page 18 of Deadly Oath

She snorts, picking up a fry and dipping it into the ramekin of ketchup. “And I suppose you’re anamazingcook.”

“I get by, if I need to. But mostly, I go out for meals,” I admit. “Dinner, anyway. I can whip up bacon and eggs for breakfast, and throw together a sandwich for lunch. But cooking isn’t my forte.”

“But it should be mine?” Sabrina looks at me archly. “Why? Because I’m a woman?”

I chuckle at that. “No. But I did think you’d at least be able to make an attempt without setting a pan on fire. That’s an almost impressive level of failure. I can’t say I’ve ever had that happen.”

Sabrina flushes. “I don’t really know how I managed it, either. One second, I was trying to cook chicken, the next?—”

“Well, it’s just an excuse for me to take you out again.” I grin at her, reaching for my sandwich. “There’s one more perfectly good restaurant here and a diner, so that’s at least two more dates.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” Sabrina eyes the burger, reaching for it as if it might biteherinstead. “I haven’t even decided if I’m enjoying this one, yet.”

“No? I made you laugh.” I pause, my expression turning serious for a moment. “When I met you, I thought that you looked like it had been a while since you really laughed.”

Sabrina looks at me mid-bite, setting the burger down as she slowly chews and swallows. “You’re right,” she says finally. “And it was nice for someone to make me laugh again. I’ve been—struggling since I got here. I don’t really fit in. I try, but it’s a struggle. And everyone sees it. You see it.” She lets out a slow breath. “I know it takes time. But these six weeks have felt like alongtime.”

Her face softens, her expression turning a little sad, and once again I have the surprising urge to reach out and comfort her. I hesitate, but when that look in her eyes deepens, I reach over and touch the back of her hand.

“You said you were going to be here for the foreseeable future,” I tell her gently. “So just give it a little more. You’re clearly a fish out of water, Sabrina. Give yourself some time to get used to breathing differently.”

Her mouth quirks up on the side, and her fingers brush against my palm, just for a moment before she draws her hand away and reaches for another fry. “Thanks,” she says softly. “But don’t start calling mefishas a new nickname.”

I grin at that. “Alright, princess.”

She rolls her eyes, but this time, she doesn’t protest.

We finish our meal, and I pay the check. “I’ll drive you home,” I tell her, in a tone that lets her know I won’t accept any argument. “You’re not walking home alone in the dark, not even here.”

“Isn’t a small town like this supposed to be safe?” Sabrina raises an eyebrow as I unlock the truck. “No one even locks their doors.”

“Sure. But it still has police for a reason. And I’d be bad at my job if I let a woman walk home alone at night.”

“Your job. Of course.” Sabrina’s mouth twitches. “Alright,SheriffBrady. I’ll let you drive me home.”

God, she drives me insane.It’s the first thought that goes through my head as I close the door behind her and circle around to the driver’s side. But it feels good. Better than it should, considering the fact that I don’t want to let myself get too close to her.

Pleasure is one thing. Feelings are another. And feelings have no place in what I want from Sabrina Miller.

8

SABRINA

Kian drives me all the way up to my house, putting the truck in park. He gets out before I can say anything, walking around to my side and opening the door for me before I can tell him that it’s not necessary.

It’s what I’m used to, of course. Drivers opening the door for me, in and out of the car, anywhere I went. But something in me resists Kian’s impression of me as a spoiled princess. I don’t want him to see me that way. Especially not when he doesn’t know the truth of what kind of life I was born into.

It’s a truth I don’t want to tell him, either. Not now—maybe not ever. After all, I don’t know what kind of longevity this relationship has. If it’s going to be nothing more than a fling, then he doesn’t need to know. I don’t need to tell him about Sabrina Petrova. I can just be Sabrina Miller—this new woman that I’m trying to learn how to be. The woman who can choose her own lover, if she wants. Her own future, eventually.

I slide out of the truck, landing so close to Kian that I almost brush up against him. I suck in a breath without meaning to, and I see his gaze darken, his eyes fixed on mine as I look up at him. I halfexpect him to shift and pin me up against the door of the truck, crushing his mouth against mine the way he did earlier.

Instead, he reaches up, gently brushing one fingertip beneath my chin, tipping it up as he lowers his mouth to mine. And when he kisses me, it’s equally gentle—almost polite. A brush of lips, nothing more. Nothing hot or demanding or forceful.

It still sends shivers down my spine.

I feel my lips part, feel myself leaning in for more, but Kian pulls back. “I’ll see you around,” he says as he takes a step back, a glint of mischief in his eyes that both intrigues and irritates me all at once.

But then again, that seems to just be the effect he has on me.

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