Page 97 of The Devil She Knows

“This time?” Daphne held a hand up to her chest in mock offense. “You say it like it’s habitual.”

“Because it is.” Sam grinned. “Lucky for you, I happen to like your brand of trouble.”

Daphne ducked her chin, trying and failing to hide the smile that stole across her face. “All right,” she relented. “I did a bad thing, but I believe it was deserved.”

“Go on.”

This was becoming a little ritual of theirs, one Sam looked forward to. At the end of the day, Daphne would come home, either from her job working as a barista or from the folklore and cultural studies classes she was taking, and confess hersinsto Sam.

Daphne stole an unglazed doughnut off the cooling rack and blew on it. “You know that one customer who always complains that we don’t make her lattes hot enough?”

“The one who then accused you of trying to maim her when you made it too hot?”

“That’s the one.” Daphne popped the doughnut in her mouth and moaned around the bite. “If I didn’t love you already—and I do so love you—I swear I’d love you for these alone.”

No matter how many times Daphne said those words, Sam had a feeling that hearing them would never get old. “I love you, too.” She reached out, thumbing away a crumb from the corner of Daphne’s mouth. “Now, finish the story. You’ve got me on tenterhooks over here.”

“Today she came in and asked for an upside-down flat white, but she didn’t tip, monster, so guess what I did.”

“No clue.” Sam smiled at how gleeful Daphne sounded. “Tell me.”

“I made her a latte macchiato instead.”

Daphne had explained that she found it oddly freeing, defying customers’ orders after so many years spent being maliciously compliant.

“A latte macchiato instead of an upside-down flat white?” Sam set her hands on Daphne’s hips, dragging her closer. She leaned in, meeting Sam halfway, brushing her lips against Sam’s mouth, a quick kiss and still it curled Sam’s toes. “You, Daphne Cooper, are downright evil.”

Daphne smiled into the kiss. “Duh.”