As soon as he’d left and Sin had been taken downstairs, everybody broke into laughter. I was a little confused.
“Even a vasectomy hasn’t stopped him. We should rent Jett out, we’d make a fortune,” the third brother said, whose name was Savage.
“Speak to Drake about it,” Mac teased, and everyone laughed again.
Now the drama was finished, the shop returned to normal.
“Fucking love this place. Good food, coffee, and drama,” a woman muttered as she headed for the counter.
I merged into the shadows. Would Slate think I was stalking him? He headed for the food displays, and as soon as his back was to me, I darted down between the bookshelves. I started browsing when I found the cosy witch mystery stories. To my delight, I saw two of my favourite authors had released a couple of books. I grabbed them and kept searching until I guessed Slate had left.
When I checked, the coast was clear, so I paid and headed for a thrift shop that often had nice clothing but was reasonable.
I picked up several pairs of jeans, five tops with labels still attached, a new pair of boots that had never been worn and some other items. I spent one hundred and fifty bucks and couldn’t begrudge what I’d bought. There had been some real bargains today. I treated myself to a coffee and headed back to the car.
Slate
He knocked, opened the door, and called out.
Jaelynn replied from the kitchen, and as he entered, Slate sniffed. Something smelt wonderful, fuckin’ amazing, actually. He walked into the kitchen, and Jaelynn turned to greet him with a wary smile. Slate saw the shadows in her eyes and realised she was on guard. He noted the sharp knife close by and noticed the rear door was ajar.
“Hey, I brought you these,” Slate said, and slowly brought his gift out from behind his back.
Jaelynn cocked her head and smiled uncertainly.
“What are they?” she asked, seeing the bag.
“Come and find out,” Slate ordered and placed it on the island, careful to keep it between them. Despite her smile, Slate recognised a woman who’d been abused when he saw one. Clearly, dinner had been a trigger for her abuser. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine and a beer for himself.
“Would you like a glass?” he asked, tipping the bottle of wine towards her.
“Please,” Jaelynn muttered, confusion warring with the trepidation in her eyes.
“Food smells fuckin’ amazing. Can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal. I tend to scrounge off my brothers, so this is awesome. When I mentioned dinner tonight, I’d meant I’d order takeout. You’d had a long day,” Slate said calmly. He deliberately turned his back on her.
By doing so, it showed Jaelynn he trusted her; he just hoped she realised that. When he pivoted back, holding the glass of wine, Jaelynn appeared more relaxed.
She opened the bag and let out a delighted gasp. “These are amazing!”
Slate took a stool at the island as Jaelynn emptied the gift bag of candles, wax melts, incense sticks, and two burners. One for the candles and one for the wax melts. There was also a stick holder included.
“Wasn’t sure what scents you liked, so I chose a selection,” Slate said.
“I love all of these. Those Stamford Mystical Variety ones are amazing! And they do them in incense sticks, too!” Jaelynn squealed.
Slate smiled. Who the hell knew Mystical smelling incense sticks would make a woman go gaga?
“Do you need any help with dinner?” Slate offered, and Jaelynn jolted and stiffened.
“No. Everything’s under control,” she said and hastened to the oven, where she checked some trays.
“Is it in danger of burning?” Slate questioned and hated the way Jaelynn’s shoulders scrunched up.
“No,” she replied in a small voice.
“Then can you come and sit your ass down, drink your wine, and enjoy your gift?” he asked.
Jaelynn jolted again and looked surprised.