Page 52 of Devil's Thirst
Amelie takesa quick shower after practice. She's wearing baggy sweats when she comes out to eat the food we picked up on the way home. Maybe that’s simply what she’s most comfortable in, though I doubt it because I know what she wears to bed, and that’s not it. Unfortunately for her, if she’s trying to be unappealing, she’s going to have to work a hell of a lot harder than that.
“What’s your schedule for tomorrow?” I dive into my food, having waited to eat with her.
“Why, you going to shadow my every movement?”
“Maybe,” I say in a clipped tone, still frustrated over our argument.
She sighs, making me want to turn her over my knee. “We have rehearsal from one to four, then a dinner break before meeting back up for a six to eight session.”
“That works. I can drop you off at the theater before meeting with my cousin.”
She fiddles with a napkin. “What are you meeting with him for?”
“We’re going to talk about transitioning me back into the family business.”
“That’s good.” Her tone lightens.
“Hoping I’ll stick around?” I raise a brow.
“I just meant it’s good there’s no bad blood between you. That’s all.”
“Mmm.” The noncommittal sound is full of doubt.
She chooses not to challenge me and instead takes a quick bite of her parmesan chicken. I like watching her eat. I’m not even sure why except she goes at her food with genuine pleasure. And she wasn’t lying when she said she eats plenty. The waif of a girl can put away some food, and I’m here for it. Maybe even more than I should be. I’m starting to worry I’ve unlocked some kind of new kink.
When she licks the butter from her fingertips after a bite of garlic bread, I literally moan.
Amelie stills, her eyes rounding when she sees the ravenous desire in mine. “I thought you were pissed at me.” As if being pissed has anything to do with my dick.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you.”
“Oh,” she breathes. And fuck if she doesn’t swipe her tongue over her lips. I bet she doesn’t even know she’s doing it.
She must realize she’s walking a fine line because she eats in record time and disappears to her room. I have to restrain myself from following her, which is even harder now that I’ve tasted her.
I set up camp on the sofa, but only after I’ve taken a shower that rivals a polar plunge. I’m not too worried, however, because I know Amelie won’t be able to resist me for long. She was already grappling with temptation. A couple more nights, and the sofa will be a thing of the past.
Six days.Six damn days, and we’re still locked in a contest of wills. The tension between us has built a little more each day, both of us holding our ground—she won’t give me a name, but I refuse to give up asking for it.
By the time Sunday rolls around, we’re both dangerously on edge. It’s not ideal, considering we have our first family function to attend together. Conner and Noemi’s twins are being baptized at evening Mass. I’m not looking forward to the attention, but at least it’s a distraction. And speaking of distractions, Amelie’s presence on my arm will help keep people from swooping in with questions about my time away and why I’ve returned. Overall, it’s a win.
When we arrive at the church, Noemi and Conner talk with family near the front of the church, each holding a swaddled infant.
“Sante!” Noemi’s face beams with happiness when she sees me. She excuses herself and comes over to greet us, Conner following her lead.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” She gives us both one-armed hugs. “Hey, Amelie. How are you?”
“Really well, thanks.”
I’m shaking Conner’s hand when he lets out a muttered expletive and then shoves his baby into my arms. “Hold this for a second.”
I feel like I’ve been handed a live grenade. When my bewildered stare follows his retreating form, hoping to understand what the hell just happened, I see a little girl scaling the confessional wall like a squirrel. My sister and her husband have a daredevil on their hands.
And identical twin boys.
Guess it’s a good thing she’s got the patience of Job. She’s going to need it.
I smirk and look down at the sleeping baby in my arms. I’ve never held a baby before. I adjust him a bit so that he feels more secure, and I’ll be goddamned if I don’t instinctively start to sway back and forth.