Page 122 of Bad Girl
“Cheddar is safe. There are only two ingredients.Pasteurisedmilk and smoke flavouring.”
Less suspicious.
He raised his phone to investigate my claim.
While he was occupied I snuck several pieces of salty cheese into my mouth, then reached for a grape to chase the salt with sugar.
“Hm,” he hummed.
“When are you going back to work?” I asked, slipping another grape in.“Kilcullen Tech needs its CEO.”
The bond was a blessing and a curse. He knew I didn’t mean a word of it.
His frown melted away. He smiled—those green eyes catching the early afternoon light—and said four words that hit me square in the chest like a physical thing.
“How can I be away from my heart?”
I swallowed the grape.
He crossed the room, handed me a tissue, and climbed onto the bed—not to steal my food but to pull me into him. I moved the bowl to safety and leaned in.
Nothing said I love you like kissing your mate’s cheesy mouth.
When I lay on his chest I stroked his neck, and every so often ran my thumb along the dark stubble at his jaw. His scent and the rasp of his whiskers always had a soothing effect on me.
“Cuán said he’d come over to work in your office,” I murmured.“Something about saving energy costs.”
You should take his blood pressure reading after you tell him, Bad Girl muttered.
“Absolutely not. No way. He has his own home office,” Conrí snapped.
Then a heavy sigh.
His hand settled over the twins.
One son. One daughter.
“Fine.”
I patted his cheek. Such a good boy.
Cuán would keep him occupied. That was the plan.
Even I’m sensing the irony, Bad Girl snickered.
I smiled.
“He’ll make a fine uncle-dad.”
“I suppose so,” he muttered.
I thought of Cuán and wondered where his mate was. I wanted my children to grow up with the same bond around them that Lorcán and Croía had built. That steady, certain thing between all of them.
Sara was still distant—even after learning the family was expanding. That quiet loneliness I’d carried since eighteen hadn’t fully gone. Just changed shape.
My parents on the other hand were completely delighted with Conrí. After Finley, the bar had been on the floor. Anyone who didn’t bring a pocket knife to a first meeting was an improvement. I could argue that we hadn't begun our relationship like that, but so could millions of other women.
No. I couldn’t blame my parents for their enthusiasm.
