Page 70 of Sweet Lies

“I wish they hadn’t seen that,” she mutters.

My lips brush the top of her head. “I know.” My hand gently strokes her hair as I wait for her breathing to slow and sleep to overwhelm her.

I don’t have long to wait. While she sleeps—a far more peaceful sleep now—I stay awake. What the hell am I going to tell her siblings in the morning?

ChapterTwenty-Two

REBECCA

I’m flipping an egg in the pan when Andre enters the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says before breaking into a yawn.

I’m surprised he’s awake already. He’d been up early for a lookout shift then headed back to bed—his own bed this time. I’m still upset over last night and hope no one brings it up.

“You could put on a shirt,” I answer in lieu of a greeting. I glance over quickly to get one more look before becoming very interested in my omelet.

“I normally sleep naked—be happy I even remembered to put on pants.”

I hear the smile in his voice but don’t dare look up. “I’m sure E appreciates that fact.”

“It’s a hardship, I’ll have you know,” he says, stepping closer. “Am I making you nervous?”

“No.”

“Really?” His hand brushes my lower back, and I shiver. “Because you’re burning your breakfast.” He laughs softly.

“Shit,” I mutter. He’s correct—the bottom is burning. I take it off the stove and reach for a plate to slide it onto. I’ll eat around the burned parts.

Andre pulls open the cutlery drawer and takes out a fork, then scoops up a piece of the darker end of the omelet and pops it into his mouth.

“Get your own breakfast,” I mutter, pulling the plate from him. He takes hold of the edge, stopping me.

“It’s good because you cooked it.”

“Flattery at its finest.”

Adding salt and pepper, I cut it in half and slide his section over. “How did you sleep?”

He shrugs. “Fine, once I got back to bed. I stayed up to go over some contingency plans after my shift.”

“Do you not think E’s plan will work?”

“I always like to have a few other options in place. How did you sleep?”

That was a complicated question, between my nightmare and what happened afterwards.

“Like a baby,” I finally reply, thankful for the time the bite of the egg has given me.

He laughs and raises an eyebrow. “Really? Because the circles under your eyes tell a different story.”

“You have such a way with words. It’s amazing you’ve ever convinced anyone to get into bed with you.”

“Words have very little to do with that. There are so many other ways to use my lips.”

“And you’re mediocre at all of them,” I bite out, pushing away from the counter. Grabbing the plate, I throw out the rest of the egg before he can call my bluff.

“Hey, I was eating that,” he groans.

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