Page 593 of Lodestar

“I wish I’d known. I’d never have introduced them if I had even a hint…” Regret settled heavily in my soul for that miscalculation.

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, Star. The bastard would have died sooner or later.”

With a final squeeze, I clambered off him and then stood beside the bed. Grabbing his hand and knotting our fingers together, I asked, “Shower?”

“How could I refuse an invitation like that?”

An hour later, I retreated to the kitchen and found Aoife organizing things with the expertise of a general in the middle of a siege.

Moving toward one of the three islands in the kitchen, I stood there and muttered, “It’s disturbing how good you are at this.”

She arched a brow at me. “Disturbing good seeing as I’m arranging all this and you didn’t need to talk to a stranger to get it done?”

“That is very sound logic. Disturbinggreat. I need to get you a gift. What do you want?”

“You already gave me a gift.”

“I did?” My brow furrowed. “Oh. Dagda.”

“Yes, the fact he’s still alive,” she drawled as she iced Lyra’s birthday cake. “And… Dad.”

I hummed. “I didn’t know if he was going to step down. I’ve cursed him a couple times?—”

“A day. For the past six months,” Conor tacked on as he drifted into the kitchen, squeezing my waist with one hand before heading for the fridge.

Along the way, he kissed Aoife on the cheek then withdrew a bottle of juice which he tossed at me.

“You make me sound obsessive,” I teased.

He winked at me as he got some water for himself. “Nah. That’s not possible.”

Whistling as he left the kitchen, I watched him go, muttering under my breath, “It’s not fair to be that hot all the time.”

Aoife snorted. “I’d like to tell you that you get used to it, but you don’t.”

“What? Them being hot?”

She nodded then glanced at our sister-in-law who’d just shown up. “Camille, am I right?”

Camille patted down her hair. “Excuse me?”

Aoife stared at her knowingly. “You don’t get used to them being hot.”

“I’d say your agreement is non-verbal from the state of your lipstick,” I joked.

Her eyes flared wide before she walked over to the stove, grabbed one of the copper pots dangling from above it, and stared at her mouth in the reflection. She shot me a glower. “There’s nothing wrong with my lipstick.”

I smirked. “Made you look.”

She huffed but began patting her hair again. “And no, you don’t get used to them being hot.” She licked her lips. “Or the things they do.”

“Fan Camille down, Aoife. She’s overheated.”

Aoife chuckled. “Leave her alone. She’s young and in love.”

“And we aren’t?”

“We’re in love but we’re not young.”

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