Own the Wind (Chaos #1)(43)



“Uh… how about I go home and give you guys some one-on-one reunion time,” I suggested, and Lan’s eyes cut to me, which was what I saw.

What I felt was Shy’s eyes come to me. I felt them so much, I turned my head to look up at him.

Uh-oh again.

“You’re comin’ with us,” he declared, his eyes intense, his demeanor stating his declaration brooked no argument.

Unfortunately, I needed to argue. I needed to give Shy time with his brother because Shy should have time with his brother. Selfishly, I also needed to give Shy time with his brother to explain how things were now, not however they were when he last spoke to him about me.

“Shy, darlin’, you haven’t seen Lan in a year. Maybe you two can have coffee, I’ll go out, get some stuff, and make you guys lunch,” I suggested.

Shy’s eyes cleared and his lips twitched. “He just survived Afghanistan, sugar, don’t think he needs to come home and have you kill him with your cooking.”

I forgot Lan’s reaction to me and the small fact I was wearing nothing but a sheet and only could think of Shy embarrassing me by announcing to his brother, of all people, the only real family he had outside of the Chaos family we shared, that I couldn’t cook.

“My lunch won’t kill him,” I snapped.

“Baby, I don’t know if garlic poisons anyone but vampires but the way you use it, I figure this is a possibility,” he returned.

“I’ll make sandwiches,” I told him. “You can’t screw up sandwiches.”

“That’s what you said about hamburgers before you screwed them up,” he told me.

“Well—” I started to huff but he kept going.

“And tuna casserole before you screwed that up too.”

“Shy!” I clipped.

“And those steaks, that roast chicken, and that soupy chocolate pie,” he went on.

“Shy—” I rolled up on my toes and got close—“shut up.”

He grinned.

I looked to Lan and announced, “You really need to take him for coffee so I have plenty of time to plot his murder. You can’t plot a murder distracted by hot guys, and now I have two of you on my hands.”

Lan was looking at me like the Tabby he met just minutes ago evaporated, a new Tabby took her place, and he’d never seen me before.

Then his eyes went to his brother, his face softened, they came back to me, he grinned a gentle, sweet grin and he informed me, “Honey, you do know you’re wearin’ nothin’ but a sheet.”

“I can’t think of that now,” I returned. “My biker boss hot guy just told his brother, the brother I just met, that I can’t cook. I have to focus on plotting murder, or at the very least revenge, and not on how I’m embarrassed I’m in a sheet which, might I add—” I turned angry eyes up to Shy “—is not my choice either. Just so you know, darlin’, I was headed to the bathroom when you plucked me out of bed, and it would have been nice to get there and put on at least a pair of panties before you hauled me across the room.”

“We went two feet,” he contradicted me.

“Two feet to you because you’re in jeans and you’ve known your brother since he was born. A football field to me because I’m”—I rolled up to my toes again—“in a sheet.”

“You’re more covered than most women walkin’ on the street, Tab,” he continued.

“The point right now is, I’d like to be more covered, Shy,” I retorted.

“And I’d like coffee, kids, so if you two can quit your bitchin’ and put some f**kin’ clothes on, we’ll go do that,” Lan cut in, laughter in his deep voice, and both Shy and I looked at him.

Shy grinned.

I snapped, “Fine, but one of you hotties needs to go out and get me a toothbrush. I have morning breath mixed with pizza breath and it’s not a good combination.”

I said this while pulling away from Shy, struggling with my sheet at the same time bending and swiping my stuff from the floor. I bundled it in my arms, pulled the sheet tighter, and stomped toward the bathroom but stopped, turning back to them and flipping the ends of my sheet out behind me like a Hollywood starlet threw back her train on the red carpet. I aimed a glare at Shy.

“Something to know about me, I use electric, always, but if I’m in a situation, say now, where you have to hit Walgreens, I want a pink toothbrush and whitening toothpaste.” I cut my gaze to Lan and stated, “I won’t take long and we’ll get you coffee. Really glad you’re home safe. Shy was superworried.”

Then I glared through Shy and finished stomping out of the room and into the bathroom.

I was dumping my stuff on the vanity when the door opened, Shy stalked in, pulled me in his arms, and whispered against my lips, “I don’t care about morning pizza breath.”

He went ahead and proved this by kissing me, deep, wet, and long.

When he broke his mouth from mine, he grinned down at me and, still whispering, said, “You’re the shit, Tabitha Allen.”

Oh my God, that felt really, freaking good and I wasn’t just referring to the kiss.

“And you’re a great kisser, Shy Cage,” I replied, my words breathy.

He grinned, gave me a squeeze, let me go, and sauntered out the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

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