The microwave dinged. She pulled out the container and noticed the steaks were already starting to get cooked around the edges. “Hmm, what’s the point in dirtying up the oven? Might as well let ’em keep roasting in here.” She scanned the buttons on the display, looking for the one that said steak. No dice. What the hell was up with that? There was one for popcorn. Shouldn’t steak have some precedence over freakin’ popcorn?
Frustrated, she punched forty-five minutes into the timer and brushed her hands of the matter. Snagging a knife from the drawer, she picked up the celery and chopped off the top leafy part before rinsing the rest of the stalks in the sink. That done, she carefully diced the celery and sprinkled the portions evenly between three bowls. As far as salads went, it looked pathetic.
Perfect.
Balancing one bowl in the crook of her arm and the other two in her hands, she carried them to the kitchen table and plopped each in front of a seat. She opted for using cloth napkins rather than paper. Hey, nobody would accuse her of being a total heathen. With the table set and the steaks sizzling in the microwave, she journeyed into the living room. Yanking the entertainment section from the Sunday paper, she settled on the couch. The second she spread the paper in her lap, Ms. Whiskers pounced in the middle and stretched out in a lazy sprawl.
Before she knew it, the microwave dinged again. “Okay, show time.” Shooing the cat down, she walked to the door and swung it open. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Jace was the first to pop his head out of the tent. “Mm, I can taste it already.”
More than likely he’d be tasting it for the next week. Ignoring the guilt trying to insinuate its way inside her, she wedged the door open wider. Jace bounded up the steps. He stopped and tucked his hands deep in his pants pockets in a way that was boyish and oddly endearing.
No, I will not find him gorgeous and freakin’ adorable. Understood? Hopefully her libido would get the point. “Come on in.”
He scraped his boots on the mat before stepping inside. “Nice place. I didn’t have a chance to tell you so last night.”
Her heart filled with a warm glow. Her house might not be palatial or luxurious, but it was home. The only one she’d known. Out of nowhere, an icy sliver of realization slid down her spine. If she accepted the sacrificial bond with Aiden and Jace, she’d be forced to give up not only her freedom but this house as well.
“Are you all right? You look a little pale.”
She swallowed past the bitter lump congealing in her windpipe. “I’m fine. Why don’t you go wash your hands in the bathroom?” She probably sounded like his mother. Oh well.
Abandoning him for the kitchen, she grabbed three plates from the cupboard and removed the steaks from the microwave. They seemed considerably smaller than they were forty-five minutes ago. And sort of rubbery. Stabbing them with a fork, she dropped each onto a plate. “Hmm, are they supposed to bounce like that?” Uncertain, she sprinkled each steak with a healthy dash of La Luna’s signature five-pepper-blend seasoning and transported them to the table.
The tread of boots thumped on the linoleum behind her. She turned, the blood pumping faster in her veins when she spotted Aiden. Damn it, why couldn’t he be humpbacked and covered with warts? It’d go a long way toward fighting this urge to tackle him to the ground and lick him like a big ole lollipop.
To stop herself from stroking a finger over his bristly jaw, she fiddled with the hem of her sweater. “Jace is washing up. Feel free to do the same after he’s done.”
He nodded, his attention drifting to the table. She couldn’t be certain, but she swore he gulped when he saw the steaks. Whistling floated from the hallway and Aiden snapped out of the stupor the sight of his dinner had trapped him in. “Sounds like Jace is finished.” Granting the table one last wary glance, he pivoted and made tracks for the bathroom.
Pulling out her seat, she plopped down and stared at the unappetizing meal resting in front of her. “The things I do in the name of survival.”
Jace strode into the kitchen and flashed a grin. “Where should I sit?”
She pointed to the chair across from her. He scooted it away from the table, making room for his long legs. Enfolding his large frame into the seat, he lowered his focus to the plate. His smile slipped. She had to hand it to him, he made a valiant attempt at hiding his revulsion.
“Everything looks…ah…tasty.”
“Dig in.”
He actually looked slightly terrified. Displaying the speed of a tortoise, he reached for his fork. It wobbled in his grip. Bypassing the steak, he speared a couple of celery pieces instead and soon the sounds of monotonous crunching filled the kitchen. Her steak sat on her plate, mocking her. Dragging in a deep breath, she reached for her knife and sawed through the block of charcoal trying to pass itself off as meat. She looked up, found Jace watching her, and cocked an eyebrow in challenge. Squaring his jaw, he snatched his knife and chiseled a chunk of steak free. He popped it into his mouth just as Aiden walked into the kitchen.
Jace ground through two difficult chews before his face suddenly blazed fire-engine red. A weird rasp chuffed from his throat and he scrunched his nose.
“Shit.” The expletive shot from Aiden. “Did he just eat cayenne pepper?”
She frowned. “It’s in the steak seasoning. Why?”
“He’s allergic.”
Another of those ominous rumbles shook through Jace, and Aiden dove for Dana. He hauled her to the floor as a plume of fire erupted from Jace’s mouth, licking the air with blue-tipped flames. A nasty stench similar to burning plastic filled the room. Lifting her head, she stared at the melted remains of the silk flower arrangement sitting in the center of the table. She started to stand but Aiden pinned her leg.
“Coast might not be clear.”
As if to verify Aiden’s assessment, Jace’s nose twitched again. Aiden leapt to his feet and charged toward the living room. “Outside. Now.”
Clamping a hand over his mouth, Jace hurtled from the room.
“Try not to torch her yard or our tent,” Aiden yelled from the doorway.
Dana sat up and buried her head in her hands. This went miles beyond the disastrous meal she’d envisioned.
“Sweetheart, are you hurt?” Aiden stooped beside her. His trembling fingers stroked over her hair. “A stray spark didn’t land on you, did it?”
She’d triggered Jace’s allergies and almost gotten her house burned down in the process. It’d serve her right if she’d gotten caught in the crossfire. “No, I’m fine,” she croaked miserably.
“What’s this?” His voice ripe with concern, Aiden lifted her hand and inspected the black smudge running from her wrist to her thumb.
“I’m pretty sure it’s from my mascara.”
“Let’s clean it up and make sure it’s nothing more serious—like a singe mark.” Before she could balk, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the sink. Settling her on the counter, he turned on the faucet and checked the water temperature. Apparently satisfied he wasn’t about to scald her, he guided her hand beneath the spray. The black mark began to dissolve.
“Told you it was nothing.” She reached out and shut off the faucet.
“Shhh, let me see.” His fingers glided over her slippery skin and she shuddered at the gentle intimacy of his touch. He raised his head and their gazes collided.
Oh boy. The intensity in his eyes was hotter than Jace’s fiery sneeze. He dipped close enough his breath fanned her mouth. Then his lips were there. Pressing. Enticing. With minimal resistance she caved to the persuasive invasion of his tongue. Desire combusted within her, blanking out everything but the delicious sensations racing through her body and liquefying her bones. A kiss shouldn’t be this devastating—charged and all-consuming. Capable of incinerating your entire being into a smoking pile of ash.