Page 14

“Thank you,” I murmur.

Aiden’s response is the light kiss he presses into the side of my head.

We arrive at the big, yellow tent with the blue water barrels outside the flaps. The chatter immediately dies as all heads pivot in our direction with varying degrees of surprise.

“Hey there you two. Didn’t see you at lunch,” Eugene — Cook — calls out. “Hungry?”

For a man twice the size of any other, and twice as strong, I’m always startled by his grace as he pushes out of his seat and hurries to the fryer.

“Come sit!” Nakusha waves her long slender arm over her head. The tiny, razor blades sewn into her velvet cuffs glint with every motion.

Aiden propels me forward and only stops when we reach the single, empty seat across from the beautiful knife thrower.

Mags — our resident doctor — sits on Nakusha’s other side, her face a road map of age and kindness as she peers across the table at me with eyes the murky gray of dish water.

“I was wondering if you would be joining us tonight.” Her voice is the gravely rasp of sandpaper over granite, yet oddly soothing.

Aiden nudges me into the vacant seat and takes his familiar place at my back. It’s a habit he’s had since we were children and a group of townie kids dumped their sticky drink over my head in a dare. Aiden punched the kid in the mouth, busting his lip and sending him wailing to his mother. Since then, he always puts himself at my back. I should tell him he doesn’t need to anymore, but I like it.

“We were just talking about the townies,” Nakusha says, flipping a butter knife over the backs of her slender knuckles. “They sure are a loud bunch.”

A lot of the attendees the last two days of opening have been teenagers with high opinions and a hatred for everything. They have been flooding the apothecary, buying out all the love potions and beauty elixirs.

“I’m going to stab the next one who shoves their phone in my face,” Nakusha mutters, driving her point home by burying her knife into the table. “It’s so rude.”

Mags sets a withered hand on the younger girl’s arm. “They’re young. Let them enjoy their time.”

Nakusha yanks the blade free, leaving a new notch in the wood to match all the other scuffs and scratches. “Only two more days and we can leave this shit hole for a new shit hole.”

“It’s not so bad here,” Landon speaks up from my right. “The girls are certainly friendly.”

Nakusha grunts in disgust but her response fades with the first brush of Aiden’s fingers across the back of my neck. The heat of his caress sends ripples of warmth showering down my spine, tightening my nipples. It pools in my belly. I’m acutely aware of the rough skin of his fingertips scratching my pulse as they drift across my jugular to cup the underside of my chin and force my head back.

My breath catches as Aiden’s face dips over mine. Upside down so his lips are all I can see.

“All of it,” he threatens with his words. With the subtle tightening of his fingers. With the way his darkened gaze lifts to my parted lips in warning, or maybe he, too, is remembering our kiss.

My body tries to swallow. I know he feels the rapid flex under his palm when his hold tightens and I moan without thinking.

My eyes widen as currents of heat snap through me to ignite the place between my legs with a familiar ache.

Aiden smirks in a way he never has before, a quirk of his lips that is more Warrick than Aiden, and I would have done anything he asks.

“Nod,” he commands, and I nod obediently.

With clear reluctance, Aiden unfurls his long fingers and frees me to lower my gaze to the table, to the fresh plate of burger and fries, and the eight sets of eyes staring at my hot complexion. But no one comments as I take a fry and bring it to my lips with shaky fingers.

I squeeze my thighs together and shift to ease the pressure. The hand that had closed around my throat rests on my shoulder, digs into my skin when my seat creaks. They force me to be still, which is torture in itself.

Between the lingering phantom sensation of his fingers cutting my air and the pulse between my thighs I’m so close to the edge, I don’t taste anything on my plate. I barely realize it’s empty until Aiden is taking my dishes to the makeshift washing station. He washes and dries them and sets them away. I stand to meet him when he returns and let him take my hand.

“No more skipping meals,” he says as we leave the kitchen.

“I wasn’t trying to. It just got away from me.”

He pauses to face me. His features are bathed in the soft blue of settling dusk, but I can feel him studying me. I can feel Warrick. It’s close enough to nightfall that he should be getting ready for his act soon.

“Don’t do it again.” The fingers on his free hand brush a lock of dark hair off my cheek. “I’ll be very upset if you do. Promise me.”