Page 43 of Unforgivable

He growls back but smiles when I giggle at him.

"You are like a bear," Inuit slaps a plate of food down for Thjis and one for himself. "He has that shit, what's it called?"

"Don't curse," I tell him mildly.

Inuit rolls his eyes. "That thing, when you get all depressed during the winter?"

"Seasonal Affective Disorder, and I do not," Thjis argues. He waves a hand at the weather outside the windows, "who the fuck likes this? I'm supposed to be happy about two feet of snow?"

I follow Thjis's motion to look outside. The storm shows no sign of stopping.

"You don't tell him not to curse."

I smile at Inuit. "He's a grown bear."

"Stop it," Thjis huffs, as both Inuit and I smirk at him.

I hear the door in the mudroom open, then slam shut.

"Motherfucker, this storm is the worst one this year so far," Ezra comes stomping into the kitchen a few minutes later. His cheeks are red from the cold, which is worrying considering they wear full, insulated face masks in this weather.

"Shit, at least you cooked, In." Ezra ruffles Inuit's hair before kissing me.

"Lyri cooked it," Inuit says casually.

Ezra pauses as he fills his plate at the stove. "Oh?" I can see the trepidation on his face as he looks at his plate doubtfully.

"I did the eggs," I tell him, "sort of."

"Stove was off," Inuit throws me under the bus.

All of the males laugh at me.

"That reminds me. I got you something," Ezra says with a devious twinkle in his eyes. He races from the room. Coming back, he presents me with a paper gift bag with a flourish just as Rhet stomps into the room.

"Heat is going good. Hopefully, we don't lose power."

He doesn't come and kiss me.

I distract myself from Rhet by opening the gift bag. It's some sort of clothing, and I hesitate to open it with Inuit in the room.

"It's PG," Ezra assures me.

I pull it out and start to laugh. Chuckling himself, Ezra eagerly helps me pull it on. "Here, stand up," he helps me to my feet.

The apron falls into place. 'Domestic Goddess' is written in purple cursive across the front. The bottom of the apron has little frills, making it look like a naughty housewife's costume.

"Nice," Thjis smirks, his eyes caressing me.

I twirl slowly, mindful of the twinges in my body.

"Can we get one for Ez?" Thjis asks.

"Asshole," Ezra shoots back.

"Thank you, Ez," I kiss his cheek, hoping to cut off the argument I can see happening. "I love it."

"I love you," he responds.

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