Page 52 of A Shade of Myself
“It’s too early for this much chatter.” Laurent sounded pained.
“Whose fault is that?” I planted my hands on my hips.
“Seriously,” Sadie muttered.
Laurent pointed at my daughter. “It wouldn’t hurt you to train either.”
She stopped, brightening. “Like punching? Can I bring Phoebe?”
“Who’s Phoebe?” He frowned.
“My mini flamethrower,” Sadie said in a “duh” voice.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You let your child play with fire?”
I crossed my arms, aware that I wasn’t wearing a bra and the T-shirt I’d slept in was very thin. “It was only supposed to be a prop.”
“No weapons, no punching,” he said. “Not yet. First you run.”
“Get real.” Sadie laughed and shuffled into the kitchen.
I yawned again. “What she said. Come back in two hours. Or preferably never with that offer.”
“I heard all about your adventures yesterday.” Laurent spoke softly, an edge to his voice.
I pretended to knight him. “I now dub thee Town Square.”
“Quoi?”
“You and Nav are the worst gossips ever.”
“What are you going to do the next time you can’t access your magic and someone or something wants to hurt you?”
“Try and get away. I’ve taken self-defense classes, thanks.”
“How far can you go before you become winded? How fast are you? You are going to build up your stamina and speed until I deem them acceptable. Then you’ll learn fight moves.”
Good thing I hadn’t told him about that stranger and my magic test. He’d probably make me do a ropes course or something. “Why can’t I punch you now?” I said sweetly.
He braced a hand against the door frame and leaned in, his eyes glinting. “Because I can’t touch you platonically. Alors, we are both going to run until the only thing we want is a cold shower.”
Did someone have blue balls? All because of little ol’ me? “Well, when you put it that way…”
I shut and locked the door on him.
“Mitzi,” he purred from the other side. “Do you need me to drag you out?”
Tamping down a grin, I placed a hand against the door as if physically connecting with him. “Try it,” I said and went into the kitchen. Like hell I was running at the ass-crack of dawn.
Sadie set the espresso pot on the hissing gas burner. “What happened to the wolf?”
“His name is Laurent.” I scrounged in the fridge for the milk and a package of banana chocolate chip muffins.
“Emmett calls him the wolf.” She got mugs out of the cupboard.
“Emmett is not a role model. Use your manners.” I poured us both milk, heating it in the microwave.
“Even when Laurent wakes us up at 6AM?”
