Page 45 of No Promises, No Lies

Maybe he didn’t mean to leave this door open... or think I’d have the balls to leave it.

My stomach growls again, and either way, I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I step over the threshold and pull the door shut behind me, deciding just as my heart threatens to pound right through my chest.

Escape is on my mind, but my stomach growls again, and food becomes priority. My stomach—and a newfound defiance I didn’t have last night—propel me forward. As I tiptoe down the long hallway.

Should I stay in the room like a good little captive and wait to see what the Irish have planned for me?Probably. Was I going to?Nope.

The sight of Koen on the couch nearly sends me running straight back to Aidan’s room. Though smaller than his brother,something about Koen is far more terrifying. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m pretty sure it’s the complete lack of emotion he shows on his face. A sociopath if I’ve ever seen one..

I pull back so I’m out of sight, pressed against the wall, listening.

Nothing.

Before I can think better of it, I peek out again at the eldest O’Rourke. He’s sprawled out on the sectional—his attention solely focused on the phone in his hands. The TV flashes from above the fireplace, airing the latest hockey highlights.

There’s only a couple of feet I need to cross out in the open. If he doesn’t look up, I might pass through the room without being caught.But that’s a big if…

One foot after another, I’m staring so hard at Koen he might just look up from the invisible force of my gaze alone.I swing into the kitchen, nearly collapsing with relief, pressing my back against the wall separating the eldest O’Rourke from me. Clinging to it like it’s a lifeline. I don’t dare peek out to see if he saw me. Instead, I close my eyes and listen, trying to hear over the sound of my panicked heart’s beating for any movement in the living room.

When the sound of Koen storming across the room doesn’t come, I open my eyes. Nearly letting out a scream at the sight of the smiling redhead right in front of me.

I have to clasp a hand over my mouth to keep quiet.

Reagan.

My eyes dart around her, taking in the space. Momentarily relieved to find it empty, except for the youngest O’Rourke grinning at me.I can handle Reagan, I think.

She must see the fear in my eyes because she moves slowly, careful to keep her hands where I can see them. Like she’s interacting with a wild animal. She touches a single finger to herlips before motioning with the other hand for me to follow her deeper into the kitchen.

Green eyes, so much like her brother’s, sparkle with mischief.

I hesitate, stealing a glance behind me at where Koen still lounges out of sight.

Reagan shoots me a reassuring smile, and even though I’m still apprehensive, I follow.

Worst case scenario… She’s smaller than I am. I could probably take her if she tried anything…

Reagan leads me past the island, down a half stair and out a gorgeous set of French doors. Right out into the beautiful little garden I’ve only seen from my window. She shuts the doors behind us carefully before speaking.

“Hungry?” She points to a long wooden table. Nestled in a little grove of climbing roses and set full of delicious looking breakfast options.

My mouth waters at the sight.

“C’mon.” She motions me over and I follow obediently. “Help yourself.” She takes a seat at the middle of the table and hands me an empty plate.

I take it and plop my ass in the seat across from her, wasting no time loading up on delectable looking French toast and eggs. There’s also bacon, hash browns, a few large crumbly muffins and a pitcher of juice, along with a large carafe of coffee.

The first bite of the fluffy French toast nearly sends me sliding out of my chair. It’s so damn good. Reagan smiles knowingly, taking a bite of her own.

“Oh my God, this is amazing!” I get out between bites, practically shoving it in. Afraid someone might take it away before I can get enough of it. “Did you make this?”

She grins at me.“Me? God no, I’d sooner burn the house down trying...” She laughs like it’s the most ludicrous thing in the world.

Recovering, she tucks a red strand behind her ear before schooling her face. “No, I’m not the domestic type, this—” She gestures to the food, “—this is all Koen.”

I freeze mid bite, nearly choking on what’s already halfway down my throat.

“Koencooked this?” I stare at the piece of egg on my fork with newfound suspicion.

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