Page 30 of Charmed

"Do you seriously need to ask? Let's see." Fiona ticked off points on her fingers with sarcastic flair. "He's a Meath. Cracks jokes in time of crisis. Is a Meath. Argues with me constantly. Is a Meath. Has charm in spades. Is a Meath. Enjoys his playboy status. Is a Meath. Has given me no real impression he actually likes me. Is a—"

"Meath. Yeah, yeah. I'm picking up on your subtlety," Ceara drolled. "Dissection time, little sister. His sense of humor is his most admirable trait. He's gotten you to genuinely laugh several times. No small feat. The constant banter between you two is the most twisted form of foreplay I've ever seen, but it works in your case. No one else on the planet riles you like him, and it gets you hot. Not mad. Hot. Because, for once, someone stands up to you. That you used the word 'charm' in the same sentence as him is revealing altogether. You don't find any male charming. As for the playboy status, did it ever occur to you that's a defense mechanism? Neither of our families have been able to find or keep love in centuries. He's probably protecting himself." She leaned forward as if to punctuate her point. "Lastly, he's done nothing but prove he likes you."

Leave it to Ceara to put Fiona in place. Stupid sisters. Even if Ceara was a little—okay, a lot—right, Fiona tossing out her reasons for not getting romantically involved with Riley would only begin to crumble her own wall of protection she'd erected. Admitting her growing feelings was an act of courage she couldn't take back.

She sniffed as if uninterested. "He's done no such thing. He's here because he has to be."

Ceara offered a pitying look. "That might be partially true, but nothing's forced him to be this involved or to stay. He's been all in and then some." She pursed her lips. "Remember when I was in second grade and that kid Zane pulled my hair at recess? He taunted me for months, then colored me the largest Valentine's card known to mankind."

Fiona considered adding Bailey's to her coffee just to get through the morning. "Totally understand. I should expect a macaroni necklace for my birthday. Check."

"Oh, for crying out loud." Ceara glanced heavenward. "The bickering? The jokes? The taunting? Riley's been metaphorically pulling your hair since our destiny kicked in. Standing up for you? The white knight complex? Spending the night to watch over you? There's your homemade Valentine's card." She grinned. "And the kindergarten approach was obviously effective because he's got you in a tizzy seven days a week."

Make that a whole bottle of Bailey's. Skip the coffee. "Me thinkst someone sniffed too much glue as a child."

Ceara opened her mouth, but Riley strode into the room and she quickly shut it again. "Good morning."

"Great morning, I'd say." He grinned and leaned his forearms on the island, looking sexily rumpled and completely lickable. Hunched, he crossed one bare foot over the other and looked at home in her kitchen. "One could do worse than finding a gorgeous redhead and brunette standing by the coffeepot first thing. All we need is a blonde, and my life's complete."

Fiona scooted off the island, tightened her robe belt, and moved to the counter. "The blonde in question is at your house, sleeping with your brother." She poured him a cup of coffee, adding one spoonful of sugar, then passed it to him.

"Eh, can't have everything." He blinked at the mug. "You know how I take my coffee?"

"Sure. I can read minds."

He choked on his first swallow, coughing violently. "You better be kidding." Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he eyed Ceara in horror. "She can't, can she?"

Ceara patted his arm. "Worry not. Though I think you could do with that particular skill yourself having to be paired with her."

"Amen." He rubbed the scruff on his jaw. The coiled muscles of his forearms flexed and veins popped and biceps bulged.

Fiona clenched her thighs and checked the clock. Two minutes he'd been awake, and she was already sorry she'd left him in bed alone. "If you could read my mind, you'd either be turned on or traumatized. Both if you're worth my time."

"Done and done," he muttered under his breath.

Ceara gave Fiona a told-you-so look. "Riley, would you like something to eat?"

"Don't feed the animals."

He met Fiona's gaze and lazily grinned with a wave of his impossibly thick lashes. "You haven't seen my animalistic side yet, babe." He shifted focus to Ceara. "That would be nice. Thank you."

Ceara rolled her lips over her teeth and turned her back on Riley. She leaned closer to Fiona. "Props for not saying ouch at that hair yank." She dropped a bagel in the toaster and removed cream cheese from the fridge. "Did you sleep well, Riley?"

"Actually, yeah. I'm usually pretty restless, but I zonked out cold. Must've been a stress fallout." He winked at Fiona. "Or the company."

While Fiona fought internal combustion and feigned disinterest by rinsing her cup, Ceara chuckled. "Give it up and say ouch already."

Confused, he darted his gaze between them. "Huh?"

"Nothing." Ceara handed him a small plate with a bagel. "What's on the agenda today?"

He took a healthy bite and spoke around his food. "Don't know. Anything we gotta do, Fi? World domination? Hostile takeovers?"

Besides a cold shower and killing her sister? "Nothing comes to mind, but the caffeine hasn't fully kicked in yet."

"Note to self. Engage the middle witch pre-coffee. Got it."

"Speaking of..." Ceara abruptly faced Fiona. "How are your powers? Have they returned?"

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