“No,” we all say unanimously.
Rose turns on Connor first. “This is important,” she complains, her hands going to her hips. She means business, but I have no intention of repeating this. I think one LVD is enough for a lifetime.
“She read it aloud. Isn’t that the point, Rose?” Connor asks.
“It’s bad luck.”
“Please tell me you’re not superstitious.” Connor tilts his head, scanning the length of her as though she’s morphed into a gypsy—the magical kind, not the gaudy ones you see on TLC. “Are you going to tell me you practice witchcraft and sorcery too?”
“This isn’t the seventeenth century, Richard,” Rose snaps. “If it was, I suppose you’d have me burned at the stake.”
“I wouldn’t have the chance. I’d already be dead.”
“For what? Being a smartass?”
He edges closer to Rose, only a couple feet away, and I’m surprised when she stands her ground, not taking one step back. His eyes flit across her porcelain cheeks, her pink nose from the cold, and her striking cat-colored eyes. “I would mention how the Earth revolves around the sun, and they’d cry heretic. You, of course, would be accused of heresy or witchcraft by eighteen.”
“I’d survive,” she declares.
“You would,” he nods. “You’d cut your beautiful hair in order to.” His fingers skim her brown glossy locks that stop at her chest.
“You think if I cut my hair I would look like a boy?” she retorts, defensive. I guess to protect herself back then, she would need to be a man. She jerks out of his grasp, eyes as cold as ice.
He doesn’t shrink back. He takes the challenge with a fervent smile. “I think you would make an effort to, and I’d keep my smart ass lips shut so I didn’t die.” He looks her over. “Then I’d pretend to be with a man just so I could do this.” One of his hands slides across her neck, the other cups her face, and he presses his lips to hers, drawing her closer as they kiss.
Her hands hang loose by her side, and as he melds his chest to her, closing every gap, she relaxes her arms around his shoulders. Internally, I’m waving Connor Cobalt and Rose Calloway flags, cheering them on.
When they part, their warm breath smokes the cold air. Rose’s eyes are surprisingly soft, but her words remain fiery. “And then we’d both be dead,” she reminds him. “We’d be hung for sodomy.”
“Then I’d die with you. Happily.” He grins, and her lips rise in an equally infatuated smile.
And then the doorbell rings, breaking their moment and successfully ruining Rose’s pleasant mood. “I still have to put out the fire,” she says in distress.
Connor squeezes her arms lightly, and her attention returns to him. “I’ll go mingle with your mother. Take your time, hun.” He kisses her softly on the cheek and disappears inside the sliding glass doors.
It’s in this moment that I realize how well Connor knows my sister. Most guys would choose to save the girl from manual labor. But Rose would rather delay any conversation with our mother. As she walks off to find something to smother the fire, Ryke approaches me with a stiff gait, his hands still firmly pocketed in his jacket.
I lick my chapped lips, as hesitant as him. “What?” I wonder if he’s going to chastise me for something I did with Lo. Maybe talking to him again. He’s never been on my team. Not really. He’s sided with Lo far more often.
“I’m sorry,” he says, the words sounding so sincere that I almost stumble back in shock.
“Huh?”
He rolls his eyes, his features darkening. “Don’t make me say it again.”
My brows crinkle, and I tug the flaps of my Wampa cap lower to shield my flush and the incoming gust of wind, not sure what else to say since he’s left me in a state of confusion.
He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you’d cheat on him and break the guy’s soul,” he admits. “I didn’t think you could do it. And I was wrong.” He pauses and then his eyes meet mine, and I see Lo in them. “I’m sorry for being an asshole, for not understanding…I think that he needs you as much as you need him.” He nods to himself, as though realizing how right those words are as he says them.
So, he may not be rooting for me exactly. But he’s supporting our relationship. That’s even better. I can’t help but smile.
Ryke actually smiles back. “You’re okay, Calloway.” With this he pats my shoulder and then turns around, heading for the warmth of the indoors.