Page 92 of Say I Do

“Bring a lot of milk and sugar,” I said.

Lorelei stared at me strangely. “You hate sugar in your tea.”

Yeah, but my husband hated anything bitter unless it was alcohol. “Just bring it.”

“Okay, okay.”

Lorelei was busy in the kitchen. It felt odd having her in my space. It wasmykitchen, and sure, I didn’t use it, and neither did Benito, but I felt oddly possessive over it.

It was meant to be hers first.

I groaned at the thought.

“You two having fun?” Quincy asked. His gaze swept over us and around the penthouse. “It’s a nice place.”

I elbowed Benito. He was the silent kind, but even this was a stretch. I’d seen him make better conversation with a reporter.

“Thanks.”

Really, that’s it?I wanted to punch Benito. He was being a bigger asshole than normal.

Quincy’s head tilted. I knew the moment he opened his mouth, he would start some shit. He had that look about him as if he was searching for a way to cause chaos. I knew that face and even enjoyed it on occasion, but right now wasn’t exactly the best time.

“Don’t worry. Harlow and I are old news,” Quincy said.

Everything moved in slow motion. Quincy pulled his gun out, and I moved without thought. I had a blade pressed against his throat and one hovering over his ribcage.

I didn’t know who was more surprised; me, Benito, or Quincy. That was when I realized Benito had drawn his gun on Quincy first.I should really get them to calm down.The tension in the air was so thick it was damn near impossible to swallow.

One wrong move, and I’d have to kill Quincy. He was my best friend. Yet there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in me. If he even looked like he was going to shoot Benito, I would drive my knife into his flesh. I’d grieve later.

“Fuck,” Quincy groaned.

Our eyes met briefly, and there was nothing. I could slice into Quincy as if he was nothing more than a corpse for me to play with. Maybe he saw it in my face because his shoulders relaxed. He still hadn’t lowered his gun, but it was a start.

“Avete messo il mio amico contro di me,” Quincy said.

“Parla italiano?”

“Che cosa hai fatto alla mia Harlow?”

If it was possible, the tension grew. I hadn’t caught anything in their conversation except my name. Fuck, Quincy was probably riling Benito up. His face was void of any emotion. But all this time I’d spent with Benito, I knew when he was ready to murder someone.

“Hey, Har, your tea selection is low. Where is the sugar?” Lorelei called.

Shit. I’d nearly forgotten my sister was visiting too.

“Top right cabinet closest to the coffee maker. And I’ll add more tea to the grocery list.” As if I fucking grocery shopped. Benito had someone else handle that. I was shit at anything that had to do with the house.

Quincy choked back a laugh. “You grocery shop? I must have died and gone to hell.”

I put my knives away, making sure to hide them once more. I reached for both of their guns. Someone had to be the sane person here.

“Don’t start your shit, Quincy,” I said as I pushed down their weapons.

My best friend laughed. “All right, fine.” He flipped the safety on his gun and put it away. He showed his hands in good faith. “I couldn’t help myself, Har. Why don’t you give me a big hug?”

What the hell is wrong with him?

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