Page 75 of Kill for a Kiss

Stan lifts a big branch with both hands and waves it in the air. “This one’s gotta be useful, right?” He snaps it in half with a dramaticcrack. “Ah, shit.”

Sterling sighs, which is his version ofshut itat Stan’s antics. I bite back a smile.

Stan glances over his shoulder at me. “You sure you don’t wanna come help, Elle?”

Sterling shoots him a look before I can answer, but I simply shake my head, half-smiling. “You two seem to have it covered.”

Stan winks. “Right. Supervising us, huh?”

“Hmm, maybe.”

My fingers ghost over the watch on my wrist. It feels foreign and comforting at the same time, an anchor in a world where time stopped making sense. Maybe Stan knew I needed it. Maybe he remembers how tangled everything got. Probably more than I do.

Then Stan watches Sterling swing the axe. He winces audibly. “Are you serious right now?” Stan calls out.

Sterling pauses mid-swing.

Stan waves both arms as if he’s trying to stop traffic. “What is that? Some top-secret mercenary chopping style? Because whatever it is, it’s not working.”

Sterling stares. It’s one of those looks that says everything. A warning dressed as silence.

But Stan seems to be immune. He steps forward, taking over. “Alright, step aside. Let a professional handle this.”

He takes the axe, rolls his shoulders, like he’s about to do something impressive, then swings and misses entirely.

There’s silence for a little while until Sterling crosses his arms. He quips, “Aprofessional, huh?”

Stan clears his throat like that swing never happened, adjusts his grip, and tries again. This time, the axe lands clean, sending splinters flying. He steps back, looking proud. “See? That’s how you do it. Pay attention, big brother.” He says the title mockingly, making me smile and raise my knitted brows. “I already have the youth, the looks, and the muscles. Wouldn’t want you staggering too far behind. Not good for the family image.”

Sterling doesn’t give him a reaction. He simply picks up the next log.

Stan tosses the axe back. “While you’re at it, maybe make Elle some real tea? That last one tasted like boiled grass and regret.”

Sterling catches it one-handed. “It was for Elle. Not for you.”

Stan gasps. “Oh, so I just suffer while she gets treated like royalty?”

Sterling doesn’t respond. He keeps working, chopping more wood.

Stan trudges toward the porch. “You see that, Elle? He doesn’t even deny it. Probably thinks he’s doin’ ya a favor.”

“I think he is.”

Stan groans. “Unbelievable. First, he gets the fancy tea and the big bed—”

“The bed?”

“I haveeyes, Elle. This cabin isn’t exactly Versailles. He’s either sleeping in the bed with you or in the drawer under the sink.”

My laugh slips out before I can stop it.

Stan perks up instantly. “There it is! Sterling, you hear that? That’s calledjoy. You might want to try it sometime.”

Sterling glances over, only for a short second. But the expression on his smoldering face softens, just a little. It does something to me I don’t have the words for right now. But my chest feels so wonderfully warm.

Stan catches it too, which naturally means he keeps going. “Alright, alright. If I have to keep performing to keep that sound going, I will.I’m a man of the people.”

Sterling lifts another log, barely reacting. “You don’t have to do anything, Stanley. You never do.”