Page 29 of Stealthy Seduction
Izzy wasn’t totally losing her shit, but she wasn’t totally okay either. She seemed to be holding it together with the kind of brittle composure that made him think she was about two seconds away from shattering.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
Setting his tea aside, he crossed the patio with purposeful strides, the heaters warming his face as he passed them. The conversation at Izzy’s table quieted as he approached, and he caught Alyssa’s knowing look before she and Sophie found excuses to drift away.
“Hey.” He settled into the chair across from Izzy. “How are you holding up?”
She blinked, as if coming back from somewhere far away. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.” The word came out gentler than usual, tinged with concern rather than challenge. “You’ve been staring at nothing for the past twenty minutes.”
Izzy’s fingers tightened around her mug, and for a moment he thought she might actually talk to him. Tell him what was going on in that sharp mind of hers.
Instead, she stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the pavers.
“I can’t do this anymore.” Her voice was tight with frustration.
Steele’s stomach dropped. What the hell? Was she talking about leaving? Or about the thin thread that connected them? Had he pushed too hard, moved too fast, made her feel trapped when she was already dealing with—
She marched across the patio with determined steps, heading straight for Sinner, who was in the process of adding what looked like an entire bag of cheese to his latest creation. Then he realized she was staring at the pizza station with the kind of horrified expression usually reserved for natural disasters.
She stopped directly in front of the big man. “Hi, I’m Izzy,” she announced.
Sinner looked up from his pizza, blinking in mild confusion. “Hi, Izzy.”
“No,” Izzy said with the patience of someone addressing a particularly slow child. “This is the part where you say your name.”
“Hi, I’m Sinner.”
She looked him over. “I bet you are.”
Sinner’s massive hands paused in their cheese distribution efforts.
“The real sin is how you’re making that pizza.”
He gave her an amused glance. “I know how to make pizza.”
“I bet you put pineapple on it, don’t you?”
Sinner’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Steele’s amusement deepened. Izzy had just unknowingly stepped into one of the team’s longest-running debates.
“What’s your role on the team?” Izzy tilted her head in the most charming gesture Steele had ever seen in his life. She was also clearly oblivious to the building tension.
“I make the pizza,” Sinner replied with the kind of straight-faced delivery that suggested he was either completely serious or the world’s best comedian.
“What’s your real role?”
“Told you. I’m the pizza maker.”
Izzy stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to determine whether he was messing with her. Finally, she sighed in defeat.
“Okay then. Pizza maker.”
Steele found himself grinning as Izzy crowded in so Sinner had to step aside.
Watching Izzy take charge, even over something as mundane as dinner prep, was like seeing her come back to life. The hollow look was gone, replaced by the fierce determination he was beginning to recognize as pure Izzy.
He loved watching her don a pair of food prep gloves and then roll out the dough on a pizza stone with the skill of a master. Clearly, she’d done this a time or a thousand.
