Page 58 of All's Fair in Love and Blackmail

“No one is going anywhere until this kitchen is clean,” Cyrus says firmly, and I nod, looking at Juliet.

“Let’s get started,” I say.

Her faintly hurt expression is still aimed at where Luca Slater disappeared from the room, but now she turns to me. “Yeah,” she says with a little sigh. “All right.”

“You have…fifteen minutes,” Felix says, turning to look at the clock on the wall. “Then you and I are out of here, Sunshine, whether you’re done or not.”

Cyrus blinks at him, his brow furrowed behind his glasses. “Wrong,” he says in a flat voice. “She’s staying here until?—”

“Until fifteen minutes from now,” Felix cuts in smoothly. “When I will be taking her.”

“Taking me where?” I say. To the store? To dinner? To the police station? To a therapist?

“It’s a surprise,” Felix says instead of giving me a real answer. Then he waves his hand at the kitchen floor, grinning. “Better hurry. Clock’s ticking.”

FELIX

Cyrus is not thrilledwith me for whisking his sister away against his express wishes.

In my defense, the kitchen is almost totally clean by the time I remove the rag from India’s grip and steer her out the door. Many hands make light work and whatnot. But Cyrus still scowls at me while Poppy looks on with interest.

She can take that look right off her face. There’s nothing to see here, and I don’t like the knowing glint in her eye.

“I won’t lie to you, Sunshine,” I say to India, glancing over at her in the passenger seat as we get buckled. “You look pretty rough.”

“Youlook pretty rough,” she mutters.

She’s not wrong. I probably don’t look good. I didn’t run to her parents’ place after the phone call that cut off with a scream, but it sort of feels like I did.

I was on my way to the gym when she called, only here in Lucky it’s not a gym, it’s a rec center. All thoughts of exercise flew out of my mind the second the line went dead. I pulled a definitely illegal U-turn, drove over in record time, and sprinted up the lawn because I had to park on the street.

Do thirty-one-year-old men have heart attacks? Would I know if I’d had one?

Yeah. I’d probably know.

“Where are we going?” India says with a sigh. “I’m not in the mood to visit any romantic spots or whatever.”

“I know,” I say. I could tell the second I bolted into that kitchen that she was in a bad way; even now, when the panic in her eyes has abated, her features are still tense and drawn. “I’m taking you for a run. I know some people don’t like running,” I add quickly in case she protests, “but there’s nothing like it if you need to unwind. Just trust me.” I pause. “Unless there’s something else you’d rather do?”

Her lips tug into a private little smile, one I don’t understand. “No,” she says, her gaze darting to me and then down at her hands in her lap. “I’ll trust you. A run would be great, actually.”

I nod, starting the car. “It will, you’ll see. Let’s go.” I hesitate, trying to remember what she said she was baking this weekend. “Why were you over there in the first place?” Then it hits me—“Were you doing your carrot cake?”

“Yeah,” she says sadly. “Juliet was going to help me. We wanted to use our parents’ kitchen. I guess we won’t be able to now.”

“And why carrot cake?” I say.

“Because it’s delicious,” she says, “and I want to learn how to make it. And I thought—there’s no reason not to bake my favorite cake justbecause.”

“No reason at all,” I murmur, forcing myself not to smile. I don’t want her to think I’m teasing.

“So where are we going running?” India says, and I’m relieved to hear a little more pep in her voice. “Can we swing by my place and grab some tennis shoes?”

“Sure can,” I say. “You’re in charge today, Sunshine, darling?—”

“Darling?” she cuts me off, her ponytail flicking as her head whips toward me.

“I debated for half a millisecond, but it rolled off the tongue so nicely,” I say with a grin.

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