Page 89 of Beautiful Secrets
Mika dusts her hands, but she doesn’t step away from the dough she and Maddie are rolling out. “But I make lunch,” she says.
And that’s when the smell hits me. Something fucking heavenly. Onions and spices and meat.
“No, you make splashy-splashy,” I tell her, pointing to the basin. “Or I’ll do it for you.”
Her eyes flare, and her mouth thins, but she backs up with a glare and washes her hands like I instruct her to.
Maddie crosses her arms over her chest.
Wonder where the fuck she got that little gesture from? Meisie must have passed it down in the genes.
“What?” I snap, having had just about enough of women glaring at me for one fucking day.
“Why are you so mean?” Maddie demands. “Did my dad get all the good stuff, and you got all the bad or something?”
You could have heard a mote of flour hitting the ground in the silence that follows.
“Mika.”
She turns to me, looking a shade paler than usual, and no wonder. I don’t think she’s ever heard this tone to my voice.
I’m about a second away from nuclear fission.
“Get in the fu—” I cut off. “Get. In. The. Car.”
When I turn to head out the door, there’s a Sarah in front of me. I look at her face, but my eyes are inevitably drawn to her protruding belly. Because it means I can’t shove past her, and she fucking knows it.
Why are women so damn manipulative all the time?
“Move,” I growl.
“You’ll mess this up if you take her now,” Sarah says. “That guy postponed for a reason.”
“Dimitri postponed because he’s a fu—” I clench my jaw. “Because he likes to mess around with people. I know where he lives. I’m taking her back.”
Sarah’s face softens from its scowl. “Just…can we talk?”
I frown at her. “Little busy, Sarah.”
“Cole, please—”
“We’ve had years to talk,” I tell her. “If it hasn’t happened yet, it’s sure as shit not happening now.”
“Not about us.” She grimaces. “About Mika.”
My frown deepens. “Nothing you can say will—”
Sarah grabs the sleeve of my suit jacket and tries to drag me across the room. I don’t move of course, but that doesn’t stop her trying.
“I am ready,” Mika says, wiping her hands on the seat of the pink yoga pants Sarah loaned her. It had to be pink, didn’t it? And the shirt she’s wearing isn’t long enough to cover her ass, which means every glorious inch of it is visible for my leering pleasure.
“Mika, watch the kids.” Sarah grabs my other arm too, then slides her hands down and grabs hold of my wrists. Her grip is hesitant, but when I turn and narrow my eyes at her, she tightens it. “Cole, please. You owe me this much.”
When she pulls, I let her lead me away from the door. But only for two steps before I pull out of her grip. She glances back, but I wave toward the hallway. “Go.”
I grind my teeth together as I follow her down the hall and into her bedroom.
Her and Derek’s.
