Hooked (Viking Bastards MC #1)(23)

She pulls out her credit card, but I’m ready for that. “It’s already sorted.”

“I can’t let you pay for this.”

From the corner of my eye I see Cade smirk, but strangely I’m not irritated by Grace’s insistence on paying. “Not up to you, princess.” I take her hand because I can, and give Cade a warning glance. Not that he takes any notice, but at least he doesn’t make any comment.

We leave the shop, and even though I’m late opening the garage, I want to spend some more time with Grace. “Tell you what.” I pull her close and breathe in the flowery scent of her hair. “You can buy me breakfast as a thank-you.”

…

It’s almost six that evening, and I’m just about to call it a day, when Kat enters the garage. “Has Grace moved in or what?”

I wipe my hands and stroll over to her. “Of course she hasn’t.” But she hasn’t left, either. When I checked on her tat a few hours ago, to remove the dressing and apply some antibacterial ointment, it was like a nonverbal agreement that she’s staying another night, which suits me just fine. “What’s the matter, don’t you like her?”

Kat shrugs. “She’s okay. Not the usual type you go for.”

I lock up. “You’ve no idea of my usual type.”

“Sure I have. And they’re nothing like Grace.”

I grin, because she’s right, and don’t even care when she rolls her eyes and gives an exaggerated sigh. “It’s nothing serious,” I remind her as we make our way to the door of the apartment. My sister steps in front of me, and there’s a smile on her face I don’t trust at all.

“Just warning you. She’s cooked dinner.”

“What?”

“Dinner,” Kat repeats. “As in, real food and not frozen shit from the freezer.”

We live on frozen shit from the freezer, except for the times we get takeout. I’m not sure she’s just winding me up. But as soon as I open the door, the aroma of real food cooking makes my mouth water.

Grace is in the kitchen, her hair scraped up into a ponytail, and I wrap my arms around her and nuzzle her neck. “Something smells good.”

She wriggles her butt and turns her head to kiss me. “It’s only lasagna. Just a thank-you for having me and for pushing me to finally get my tattoo.”

There’s no reason to keep on holding her, except I don’t want to let her go. “You bought me breakfast, remember? And I have plenty of ideas on how you can thank me later.”

Kat makes a gagging sound behind me. “Now I’m really gonna hurl.”

I ignore her as I eye all the fresh herbs and jars of spices spread out over the counter. “Thought you were into baking.”

“I enjoy cooking other food sometimes.” She twists around and loops her arms over my shoulders. “When the mood takes me.”

“You could teach Kat.”

“Fuck you, Zach,” my sister says as she leaves the kitchen. “Maybe Grace can show you how to do more than stick something in the microwave.”

“Nothing wrong with the microwave.” I grin at Grace and she smiles back, and it’s crazy how good I feel right now. “Might have to keep you around for another day or so.”

“Hmm,” she says, as though she’s thinking about it. “I guess I could stay another day. I’m on vacation this week.”

Her cell rings. She pulls it from her pocket and frowns.

“What’s up?” I pull back and she gives an impatient sigh.

“Nothing. Just my ex. I’m not picking up.”

“He knows it’s over, right?” Not sure why that’s so important, but it is.

“Oh yes. I think it was clear enough when I dropped the ring in his soufflé and told him to—well, stuff it, basically.”

“How long were you together?” Why do I want to know that?

Guilt flashes over her face although I have no idea why. “Four years. Engaged for two. Biggest mistake of my life.”

Four years? “At least you’re rid of him now.”

Her cell beeps. She checks it and shakes her head before tossing it onto the counter.

“So now he’s texting you?” I’m pissed, and don’t even bother trying to figure out why. “Want me to speak with him?”

“He’ll get the message when I don’t answer him. It’s only his pride, anyway. He doesn’t really want to try again. Well, not unless I agree to do everything he wants, and that’s not going to happen.”

She looks real mad. If it wasn’t for the fact it’s her jerk of an ex that’s got her like this, she’d look cute with that fierce expression on her face. “What did he want you to do? Kinky shit?”

At least that makes her laugh. “You’ve got a one track mind. No, it was nothing to do with sex. I wouldn’t have minded doing some…well, anyway. No, it was more his objection to my obsession with the kitchen.”

I’m more interested in what she wouldn’t mind doing when it comes to sex. Now probably isn’t the best time to ask her about that. “He didn’t want you to open your cupcake shop?”

“That’s right.” She looks amazed that I guessed. “Obviously, he never took my dream seriously, but the final straw was on Friday night.” She checks on the lasagna while I’m trying to figure out why her ex never took her dream seriously. “He informed me once we were married he didn’t want me messing about in the kitchen at all, because that’s what the staff were for.”