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“Are you shitting me?” I try to hide my amusement. “They’re not alive, babe.”

“I know, but they have these shiny eyes that are staring right at us.”

“Have you ever seen animals on walls before?”

Her body jolts, eyes narrowing. “Of course I have, but never in the main room of the house. Mom made Dad put his in the office.”

Several things come out of this statement. First, I need to make Emi comfortable in here because no way am I relocating my trophies. Second, her dad’s a hunter, which means we have something in common.

Did I just think that? Do I want to have something in common with her dad? Hell yeah, I do. It’s gonna make my life a lot easier.

I skim my hands from her ass up her back and along her arms until our hands cup together. “We’ll work on getting you used to it. But for now, let’s get started on dinner.”

She loses the attitude and grins, letting me lead her to the kitchen. This room is much the same as the rest: bland. I can see her eyeing it with curiosity.

“You’re really into the rustic vibe, huh?”

I scoot out a stool, help her sit, and lean down, trapping her in with arms. “This place was as rustic as you can get until about ten minutes ago when you walked in. Now, it has a certain brightness.”

Her expression turns into a happy glow, and she rewards me with a quick kiss.

“What would you like to drink?” I move out of her space.

“I’ll have what you’re having.”

“You want a beer?” Somehow, I don’t see Emi being a beer drinker.

“Sure, if that’s what you have.”

“How about I make you a lemon drop?”

“You know how?”

“Not saying I’m as good as the fancy stuff you had the other night, but I’ll try.”

“I’d love that.”

I go to the cabinet and take out all the items the man at the liquor store told me I’d need. He was extremely helpful when I explained I needed a lesson on making these fucking things.

I feel her eyes on my back as I fill the cocktail shaker exactly as directed, adding crushed ice and then running a slice of lemon along the rim of the glass before coating it with the citrus sugar concoction the man described as the absolute best.

She stares at me in appreciation when I serve her. I watch her take a sip, her eyes closing as she swallows.

“This is delicious.” She hums approvingly, licking the sugar on her upper lip.

Satisfaction streams through me as I grab myself a beer and take the ingredients for dinner out.

“Can I help?”

“Nope.”

“How about letting me do the salad?” She brings her drink and stands beside me.

“Because I asked you to dinner, you relax and talk to me.”

“Seems hardly fair, seeing as you had a much more demanding work day. I’m sure the gambling bust was a huge deal.”

I freeze. “How’d you hear about that?”