Page 34 of Just a Little Wicked (Wicked Sisters #2)
Connor
You should have told me earlier.
Erikson
It wasn’t my secret to tell.
Connor
And since when did you start keeping secrets for Winter?
W inter was staring at the blank phone, so he took it gently out of her hand. “You okay?”
“I’m great!”
The forced, high-pitched cheeriness he’d never once heard come out of her mouth before said otherwise. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”
“Did I make the right decision, Erikson?” she asked, standing and reaching for her coat.
“Yes.”
“What if they try to fight? What if . . .” she swallowed, “what if something happens to them because I selfishly opened my mouth?”
“What if we crash and die on the way to Atlantes’ house because your sisters didn’t insist you come home right now?”
“What?”
He shrugged. “I love the what-if game. Who else can we blame for life’s unpredictability? What if you trip on the beach and drown in the surf because I had to jog back to the truck for my coat?”
She huffed. “I get your stupid point.”
He tugged on her ponytail. “Good. Because now we’re all on the same page, and at least they’ll be on the lookout for anything that feels off or wrong.
What should we eat?” The words were innocent enough, but his baser brain immediately snagged on the potential innuendo and he knew exactly what he’d like for lunch, if only Winter didn’t look shell-shocked and half-worried to death.
“I don’t know. I’m not really that hungry.”
“Pizza, then. Pizza is always the right choice.”
They picked up a pie at Joe’s House of Pizza. Winter sniffed the box as they exited the store, then opened the lid to peek inside. She recoiled in disgust. “Did you order pineapple on your half? That should disqualify you from being my friend.”
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those anti-pineapple discriminators.”
“It’s wrong, Erikson. You don’t put apples or grapes on pizza. Why pineapple?”
Once they were settled in the truck with the warm pizza box on her lap, he said, “After some consideration, I’ve decided I would eat the shit out of apple pizza.”
“How do you have washboard abs when you eat like a garbage disposal?”
“Oh, noticed my abs, have you?”
“Hard not to when you walk out of the bathroom in only a towel.”
“Well, I’ll have you know I only eat like a garbage disposal half the time. The other half of the time I drink protein smoothies and eat unseasoned ground turkey.
“That’s . . . somehow worse.”
He grinned and pulled onto the road. “Want to eat on the shore?”
A few minutes later he parked at a little viewpoint spot, but since it was November and hovering just above freezing, they had the dirt path that led through the dunes and down to the ocean all to themselves.
They settled on cold rocks and ate their pizza in peace while the water frothed over the gravel.
“Kind of nice eating without those aggressive little seagull bastards around,” Erikson commented. “Glad they migrate. They can go steal a Floridian’s fries.”
“Do seagulls migrate to Florida?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been to Florida.”
“Really? I’m surprised. I’d assumed you’d been pretty much everywhere.”
“I’ve been to a lot of places. Most states. Over thirty countries. But I have not been to Florida.”
“Neither have I,” she mused, her delicate tongue lapping sauce off her thumb. Erikson did his best to keep his groan silent. “The only other country I’ve been to is Canada.”
“How come?”
She reached into the box for another slice. “I don’t know. I guess because I have responsibilities here. I help run an apple orchard and there’s a lot to do and . . .” at his look she rolled her eyes and gave up on the excuses. He knew her too well. “ Fine. It’s because I’m not adventurous.”
“Or maybe you’re just content where you are. Not everyone has to be a world-class traveler to live a good life.”
“I bet you love traveling.”
“I do. Or, I did. I’ve been getting a little tired of it lately, but it comes with the show, and I’m not ready to give that up. I’ve been traveling less on my time off, though. It might be nice to actually see the inside of my house one of these days.”
Winter’s hand lowered, the tip of her pizza almost touching her jeans. “You have a house ? Where?”
He leaned back on his hands, already finished with his half of the pizza. “I bought it a couple months ago when Connor decided to move to Maine.”
“You have a house here? In Maine?”
For some reason, hearing her say it with such disbelief made him feel a little self-conscious about the purchase, like houses were for serious adults who actually had the time to live in them.
“Yes, here. I still have my apartment in Boston, but I also wanted a place close enough to Connor and Holly that I could visit. What if they have a little Wicked girl? She’d need to see her Uncle Erikson sometimes. ”
Her expression softened. “That’s actually really sweet. Is it your first house?”
“Yes.” It was the first time he’d ever set down permanent roots, even if it was just in the form of signing some paperwork.
He’d had boxes shipped to the house, but he’d been working so much before the hiatus that he hadn’t done more than sleep on the couch a single night, surrounded by bare wood and cardboard.
Still, it was his , and it didn’t feel as suffocating as he’d once thought home ownership would.
It felt nice to have something permanent that he could call his own.
“Where is it?”
“Bath.”
“That’s less than an hour away from Wicked Good Apples.
” She pondered that as she chewed. “I’ve been wondering lately if I should move out and give Connor and Holly some privacy.
I know it’s the family home and Holly would never kick me out—in fact, she’d probably be furious if she even knew I was thinking about it—but what if they do have children? They’d need a room for the baby.”
“Connor has enough money to build an entirely new house on the property if that’s what they wanted. I wouldn’t worry about room for the baby. If they aren’t happy, they have options.”
She finished chewing and brushed her hands on her pants. “That’s true. I forget you Grimm boys are rich.”
He used his thumb to wipe a speck of sauce from her chin. “Is that the only reason you’re considering moving out?”
She hesitated, and he could practically see her internal battle about whether or not to share.
He was pleased when she chose to open up to him.
“Yes and no. Yes, I’ve been thinking about it recently because of them, but I’ve always wondered if maybe I’m not entirely fulfilled on the farm.
” Her eyes widened, and she appeared aghast at having admitted to such a traitorous thought.
“I mean I love it dearly, and it’s part of my heritage, and?—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Winter, it’s okay to have dreams and ambitions and still love your roots.”
She sighed. “Right. You’re right.”
“Where would you go, since you’re not big into traveling?”
She squirmed on the rock. “Nowhere. I don’t know why I even mentioned it. Are we ready to go? It’s getting chilly.”
It was just as chilly now as it was a minute ago when he’d asked the question, the wind ruffling the water and tearing at their clothing.
Another ten degrees cooler and it would have been slightly less bearable, but right now it was brisk enough to bring out the red of their cheeks without dropping their core body temperatures. Which meant she was deflecting.
“Uh-uh, my Wicked girl. I want to know what has you avoiding my question.”
“I’m not avoiding your question.” She sniffed. “Not every question needs an answer.”
“This one does.”
“No, it doesn’t. Drop it.”
“I don’t think I will.” He reached out and squeezed her ribcage just enough to tickle. She shrieked and sprang to her feet.
“Stop that!”
“Come on, Win,” he cajoled, standing and advancing, his blood humming as she danced back a step, a mischievous look in her eye. “Share with Daddy Erikson.”
“Oh my God, gross. Don’t ever call yourself that again.”
“I’ll admit it felt wrong coming out. Now get over here.” He added just enough command to his voice that her eyes widened and her breath caught. Now that was an unexpected reaction coming from his bossy little hellion, and one he was very interested in exploring further.
“No.” She turned her back on him, and he lunged, but she was expecting it and darted to the side and he missed her.
He reached for her again, and she let out a yelp and sprinted across the pebbly beach, the wind tearing a laugh from her lips and throwing it back to him as he chased after her.
He wasn’t sure he’d heard her laugh before, and it was the most beautiful thing to have ever kissed his ears; even better than her music.
She ran straight toward the water, her boots splashing across the damp rocks as she shouted over her shoulder. “This is not dignified! We have other things to do! Erikson Grimm, I swear if you don’t?—”
His legs were significantly longer than hers, and within seconds he was on her.
He grabbed her around the waist and swung her, her legs kicking out as she bucked against him, half-laughing, half-scolding, until he set her on the ground, his arms wrapped around her shoulders to keep her back pinned to his chest. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you go. ”
“How about you just let me go?” She elbowed him hard in the ribs, the shock of it loosening his arms just enough for her to squirm out and take off again.
“You’re playing dirty, Winter!” he called, letting her get a head start, but he was smiling and he could hear her laughing ahead, and for all his playboy reputation, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d played with someone.
He let her get just far enough away that it was a challenge, and he took off. By the time he reached the spot where she’d been, she was gone. His smiled disappeared. “Winter? Where are you? Winter!”
What if the Shadow Council was watching them? What if someone had grabbed her? What if?—
She leapt from behind a boulder and landed on his back, wrapping her forearm around his throat and putting him in a headlock that, had she been a little bit bigger, would have crushed his windpipe.
He reached behind him and palmed the backs of her thighs and gave her a little boost, jostling her up enough to knock her arm free, while still keeping her wrapped around him like a backpack.
He strode to the bank that rose ahead of them, a natural dirt barrier containing the sea at high tide. They were the only two creatures on this slice of shoreline, with nothing but black waves and pebbles stretching as far as he could see.
He let her slide down when they reached the bank, and he tugged her around so that she was standing in front of him, caught between his body and the bluff.
Her cheeks had a pink hue from the cool wind and exercise, and her eyes were sparkling.
This was the version of Winter he knew he was meant to see every day, not the version of her that was withdrawn and drowning under the weight of the world.
He advanced until she was pressed entirely into the dirt bank.
His eyes traced her soft lips. “Let’s make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
He was gratified to hear a breathless hitch to her voice. He caught one of her hands and pressed his thumb to her wrist, feeling her wild pulse. “You give me the information I want.”
“And in exchange?”
He leaned in and said softly, “In exchange, I’ll roleplay Viking Erik. I’ll bury my head between your thighs and make you come so hard you see stars.”