Page 98 of Sawyer
He bit back a frustrated exhale. “They wouldn’t want that. We’re family. Look, I’m texting Brooke.”
“I can do it, Kyle!”
He had to fight a strong sigh since it would only piss her off. “Okay, so you do it.” He held out his phone to her. “The password is?—”
“Don’t tell me your password!” Her panicked eyes flew to him. “Are you crazy?”
“No,” he said quietly. “You know I trust you. My password is?—”
She put her hands over her ears and started humming some spicy Latin beat. He wished he could laugh. This scene was ridiculous.Theywere ridiculous. All he wanted to do was stalk toward the door in anger and take off. Then he realized that would make her happy, so he gritted out a smile, punched in his password, and handed the phone to her.
Her hands slowly lowered as her musical humming stopped. She took the phone, tense and wary as a cornered animal. “You’re smiling. Why?”
“Because you’re intentionally pushing my buttons to make me leave.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not going. Text Brooke while I grab a bottle of champagne.”
Her heated glare made his heart give arat-ta-tat-tat.He strode from the room before he did something stupid. Like grab her and kiss her senseless.
When he returned, his phone was resting by her side. She was lacing up her black combat boots in quick motions, a little out of breath from her run up the stairs. Ready for battle, he thought.
“Brooke wants me to bring another dozen eggs, a baguette, and another package of smoked salmon,” she told him with a smug expression.
He nearly goggled. “All right… We have eggs here, but we can stop for the rest.”
Her smile spread and lit her amused face. “Gotcha.”
This time he glared at her, even though he was cheering on the inside. Her teasing him always made him feel more balanced, but he knew better than to let it show.
God, walking this tightrope with her was agonizing. One fall and he feared where they would end up.
“Nice. Grab your coat. It’s cold out.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she quipped.
He paused as he picked up his phone. That little nickname had never worked for him, but with her? He locked his mind down when he saw her falter a little as she strode to the closet. She wasn’t unaffected by it either.
He didn’t help her put on her coat although he wanted to. Close up, she smelled like fire and sex. He couldn’t take that right now.
They didn’t talk in the car the whole way over. He didn’t try to make conversation. Madison had to come out of her shell with him voluntarily.
When they arrived at Brooke and Axel’s, he found himself thinking how effortless their friends made being partners look. In the rare moment Axel needed something, Brooke handed it to him without being asked.
That unspoken sense of knowing that came with true intimacy.
Both Brooke and Axel were strong people. Independent. Protective of their centers. Loners, he might even say. But the way they touched or smiled at each other as they passed the other on the way to grab something from the fridge or the like touched him.
He could see himself doing the same with Madison as he watched her from the kitchen table Brooke had insisted they make themselves comfortable at.
Madison was tapping her foot on the floor, sidelined in someone else’s kitchen because Brooke had insisted they had breakfast in hand, with Axel manning the stove and Brooke preparing fruit and a breadbasket.
After arranging everything to her satisfaction, Brooke popped the champagne and started pouring mimosas, setting one beside Axel as he made the eggs before taking the remaining flutes over like a pro and sitting down with them at the rough Nordic kitchen table in the corner.“Santè.”
“Skål,”Axel boomed from the stove, lifting his glass in one hand as he stirred eggs.
“Santè,”he and Madison repeated as they clicked glasses with Brooke before briefly tapping their glasses together. She didn’t meet his eyes, which had Brooke giving a near eye roll before she caught it.
Yeah, she knew they were uncomfortable around each other. So far, she hadn’t brought it up. He hoped she wouldn’t, because he still wasn’t sure he had a solution.
Kicking back in her chair, Brooke looked like a business exec on holiday in her cream cashmere tunic and matching pants. “So what did you want to talk about?”
