Page 29 of Cuffed By Love

"Devin!"

"What?!"

"Stop pulling my bloody arm!' I glance over at Mira when she jabs her elbow into my ribs. We stood side by side. She was attempting to chop a tomato and then stops to look at my roughly chopped green pepper sitting on the wooden chopping board in front of me. "I kind of need both hands to do this."

"And I don't? What am I supposed to use to chop the rest of this pepper? My—"

Mira turns her big golden orbs to look up at me swiftly. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. I swear, King, I will gut you." She growls at me adorably, her cheeks flushing. I bite back the urge to laugh and look at the knife she was pointing at me. I've been annoying her all day, and I can't lie—loving every damn minute of it. I do enjoy watching her get all flustered and angry, just like the good old days.

I've noticed that Mira's been on edge since we shared that little moment between us earlier back in the car, and I truthfully can't blame her. It affected me too, more than I would have liked to admit. I'm playing with fire—I know that, but I'm honestly struggling to control myself around her. I'm in a relationship, and I love my girlfriend so much, but fuck if I don't want her. I'm craving Mira like a man starved. If that car didn't honk his horn at us, interrupting our moment, I would have caved and kissed her. I blame her perfume. She smells so fucking good it makes my brain turn to mush. Her scent is a mixture of something citrusy and intoxicatingly sweet all at the same time, and I want to drown myself in it.

"Racking up those threats, Tinks." I smile, observing her when she returns to chopping up her tomato while muttering profanities under her breath. "We both know you adore me too much to actually hurt me." I laugh and annoy her by jabbing her with my elbow.

"Bloody hell, could you think any more highly of yourself?" She utters grumpily, keeping her eyes down.

I grin gleefully and push aside the urge to reach over and brush her hair over her shoulder so I can see her pretty face. "Can always try for you, Tinks. I've always loved a good challenge, you know this." Mira rolls her eyes and tugs me closer when she reaches over to drop the chopped tomatoes in a pan.

"Shut up and pass me the peppers, idiot." I laugh and pick up the chopping board and pass it to her.

"What are we cooking, by the way?" I question, leaning over her shoulder to look at the pan when she drops the peppers in and stirs.

"Mexican style chicken fried rice."

My stomach growls at the thought of food. I'm freaking starving. "Sounds a delight. Anything else you need me to do?" I ask, leaning against the island and looking down at her.

"Yes, would you pass me that chicken I diced earlier?" I lean over and grab the plate of chicken she was pointing to and hand it to her. "Thanks."

While she's busy cooking, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, so I pull it out and see messages from Megan.

Megs:

"Baby, you've been quiet all day. Facetime later? I miss you."

Me:

"I miss you too, but I can't tonight, babe. Got a lot going on here at the moment. I'll callyou tomorrow?"

Megs:

"Oh, sure, baby. Is everything okay? How's your Dad?"

I stare at my phone for a while, unsure of what to say back to her. How am I supposed to explain that I'm handcuffed to another woman and that I'll be forced into sleeping in the same bed as her tonight? She'll be on the red eye to London before I could finish explaining. I love the girl, but she does have her moments of jealousy, and in this case, it would be absolutely justified. If the roles were reversed and Megan was handcuffed to another man, I would most certainly be bothered by it. My mind was running amuck again when Mira's sudden pain-filled whimper pulls me right out of my thoughts. I drop my phone on the side and look over at her.

"Ahh, shit!"

"Are you okay?" I step closer to her while she shakes her head, holding her hand. "What have you done?"

"Burnt my hand," She hisses, blowing on it.

"Let me see." I tug her closer to me and take hold of her wrist, lifting her hand so I could take a closer look. She's got a red mark forming along the side of her thumb. "How did you burn yourself?"

Mira winces, "I didn't realise the handle on the spoon was so hot." I shake my head and pull her with me to the sink and run the cold water. Drawing her in front of me, I hold her hand under the cold water to ease the stinging.

"Does that hurt?" I lean close to her ear to ask quietly and feel her shake her head, her bottom lip between her teeth.

"No," She sighs, closing her eyes and relaxing against me. I clench my jaw tight when her smell surrounds me again and stare at my hand curled around hers, keeping her wound under the tap.

"Is it still burning?" I ask, brushing the pad of my thumb in soothing circling in the centre of her palm—an old habit, something I would do back when we were teens. I study her closely, waiting for a reaction but she only stares at our hands clasped together, her face blank, giving nothing away. I recall doing it in the office earlier when she fell into my lap. Mira all but jumped out of her skin, but now, she doesn't seem all that bothered, or she's just really damn good at hiding it—I can't tell.

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