The Witch's Quest. Michele HaufЧитать онлайн книгу.
bits of roast beef she’d dug out of the gravy. He’d not said anything, though.
“Why are you so nice?” she asked.
He paused, a forkload of cake suspended before his mouth. With a shrug, he offered, “It’s a Minnesota thing.”
“Sure, but that’s surface. And I’m from Minnesota.” She pointed to her chest. “Not so nice. Mostly. People are always nice to one another, but are they kind nice? Nice is doing so because you think it’s expected of you. Or because your mommy always told you ‘be nice.’ Kind nice is an innate calling to understand others and be accepting of them. That’s you.”
“I get that. I’ll cop to kind nice eighty percent of the time. But flattery will not get you a piece of this cake. I’m eating it all myself.” He forked in an appealing bite of layered chocolate frosting and cake. “See? Not so nice now, am I?”
She pouted about that. She’d wolfed down her dry cinnamon crumble so fast she hadn’t even tasted it. So she enjoyed a good meal. And this first-class stuff? Not too shabby, if sparse on the meat.
“I’m no nicer than the next guy, Valor. I’m just trying to walk through this life and world respectful of all those who have as many trials and tribulations as myself.”
“Yeah? What’s it take to piss off a guy like you?”
“Why do you want to piss me off?”
“I don’t. I’m just wondering what it takes. You can’t be nice all the time. Seriously. Be honest about the remaining twenty percent. If you had one day in Trouble’s shoes and could punch whoever or whatever because your temper flared as easily as his, what would it take to set you off?”
Kelyn set down the fork beside the half-eaten cake and rubbed the heel of his palm across his brow. “I guess it would have to be someone who harms another for malicious reasons.”
“Like a bully?”
“Maybe.”
“A murderer?”
“For sure.”
“So you’d take the law into your own hands, then?”
“That’s not what you asked me.”
“Right.” She sighed and turned toward him, nudging her shoulder into the seat. She’d already gone too far by sprawling across him while she slept. Best to be more careful about his personal space now. “Tell me what’s up between you and your brother and me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you think something about the two of us. I can sense it every time his name comes up.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does. Because every time I mention Trouble, your fingers curl into fists. See? You just did it.”
He sighed and relaxed his fingers.
“Do you think me and your brother got it on?”
He didn’t answer and instead shoved in another bite of cake. The force with which he stabbed the helpless dessert said all she needed to know.
“We didn’t, Kelyn. I don’t know what Trouble has told you, but we are just friends. Always have been, always—well, the dude has been avoiding me since...you know.”
“He’s protective of me. Of all his siblings. If someone does us wrong, he’s going to retaliate.” His attention focused on her. His irises gleamed like gemstones. Faery eyes were gorgeous. She’d never seen anything so intense and precious. “So you’re telling me nothing has ever happened between the two of you? Be honest, I know you two do the Netflix-and-chill thing.”
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