Page 143 of Broken Breath
Luc’s shoulders shake with quiet laughter beside me.
“Come, you must be starving!” Élise smiles, motioning me toward the table. “I kept a plate warm for you.”
Luc doesn’t let go of my hand until I sit, and even then,it’s only because he’s grabbing the underside of my chair and dragging me closer to him. The legs scrape against the floor before his arm slings easily over the back, like we’ve done this a million times.
I shoot him a look, but he just keeps grinning.
“Al.” Dane looks between Luc and me. “You good?”
I nod back at Dane, giving him the smallest smile. “I’m good.”
My eyes flick to Piper, who’s seated right beside him, her cheeks flushed, but I hold back my smirk. She avoids my gaze anyway. She probably knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Élise sets the plate down in front of me, the aroma of garlic and roasted vegetables filling the air, making my stomach growl.
I’m starving.
“Ratatouille,” Luc explains proudly, tapping the edge of the plate like he helped make it.
My eyes flick to his shoulder instinctively, searching for a flash of fur.
Luc catches me, huffing a soft laugh. “Toulouse is with Otis.” He leans in, conspiratorial. “No rats in the kitchen.”
“Eat!” Élise urges with a smile, and I don’t need telling twice.
The first bite is heaven, the kind of flavor that makes your eyes roll back. I groan softly, the sound slipping out before I can stop it.
When I glance up, Luc’s gaze is locked onto my face, watching me like I’m dessert as he presses his thigh firmly into mine.
Élise leans against the counter, folding a towel over her arm like she’s holding court. “I saw you dethroning Luc yesterday on TV.” She grins, her eyes sparkling. “Very impressive. You’re in the lead now for the overall.”
I freeze for a beat, blinking as my sluggish brain translates her words and performs the calculation. But no,she’s right.
Leogang pushed me up, and now I’m at 625 points, whereas Luc and Raine are on 600. Mason has 500. Finn, 390.
Somehow, I’m ahead, even if it’s by a breath.
And for the first time, it hits me. I’m not just holding my own out here. I’m in this.
I’mactuallyin this.
I might really do what I came here to do.
“Wow.” Luc huffs, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Merci,Maman.”
She waves him off. “Oh, you win enough. You need some real competition.” Her eyes swing back to me. “He was gettingtoococky.”
Luc groans. “Rub it in.”
“You know…” she tells me, “… it’s good for him. Someone to keep him on his toes and challenge him inallaspects of life.”
“Maman!”
She just smiles, innocent as sin. “It’s true! You tend to get a littlefullof yourself,mon soleil.”
Luc scrubs a hand down his face, grumbling in French, but Élise turns back to me, utterly unfazed. “Where are you from?”
I swallow another bite, amused at the whole exchange. “The States. Snowshoe.”
