Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
I want to ask more. I want to know exactly what Serafina has over her, what she’s really doing here. But before I can say anything, the distant sound of the neighbors’ party grows louder. Laughter. Music. Someone shouting about another round of burgers.
Orchid glances toward the window, jaw tight. “They’re never going to stop, are they?”
I stand up too, moving closer but not touching her. “We could go over for a minute. Just to keep up appearances. I’ll behave. I promise.”
She looks at me for a long beat, eyes searching mine. Then she sighs. “Fine. But only for a little while. And if Tammy tries to set us up for another double date, I’m shooting her with a water gun. Or maybe my real gun.”
I laugh, the sound surprising both of us. “Deal.”
We get ready quickly and then head outside together, stepping through the back gate into the chaos of the neighbors’ yard. Tammy spots us immediately and waves us over like we’re long-lost family. Mark’s at the grill, flipping burgers and shouting jokes. Kids run everywhere. The music is loud and cheerful.
For the next hour we play the part. I keep my hand on Orchid’s lower back, thumb brushing her spine in small circles. She leans into the touch more than she has to. We laugh at the right moments, tell fake stories about our “work,” and steal glances at each other when no one’s looking. Every time her eyes meet mine, something warm and dangerous sparks between us.
But underneath it all, my mind is still at the house with that rosary and her quiet admission.
Whenever I am around Serafina.
Those words keep echoing in my head.
Because if Orchid doesn’t feel safe around her own boss, then maybe she’s not the enemy I thought she was.
Maybe she’s just as trapped as I am.
And maybe we’re both fighting on the same side without realizing it. Or maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part.
The party noise swirls around us, but all I can think about is the woman beside me, the weight of her secrets, and the terrifying possibility that I’m falling for her in the middle of the worst possible situation.
I squeeze her waist gently, and when she looks up at me, I don’t hide the way I feel.
Not anymore.
TWENTY-FOUR
ORCHID
The party carries on into the late afternoon, the sun dipping lower and painting everything in warm gold and orange. I’m on my third glass of wine, maybe fourth. I lost count somewhere between Tammy’s third story about her honeymoon and Mark’s terrible dad jokes. The alcohol is warm in my veins, loosening the tight knot of tension that’s been living in my chest for weeks. For the first time in a long time I feel… light. Fuzzy around the edges. Not thinking about Serafina’s warning, not thinking about the hack, not thinking about the secrets I’m carrying.
Poe stays close the whole time. His hand is on my lower back, thumb tracing slow circles through my shirt. Every touch sends little sparks across my skin. He laughs at the right moments, tells the neighbors funny stories about “our” fake life, and keeps refilling my glass when it gets low. I know I should slow down. I know I should stay sharp. But right now I don’t want to be sharp. I want to be soft. I want to forget.
Tammy leans in, cheeks flushed from her own drinks. “You two are so cute together. The way he looks at you? Swoon. When are you going to give us some neighborhood babies?”
I laugh, the sound a little too loud, a little too free. “Not anytime soon. We’re still enjoying being just us.”
Poe’s hand slides lower, squeezing my hip possessively. He leans in and presses a kiss to my temple. “She’s right. We’re still in the honeymoon phase.”
The word “honeymoon” makes heat pool low in my belly. I lean into him, letting my body press against his side. The wine makes everything feel warmer, softer, more immediate. His scent is all around me, clean and masculine, mixed with the faint smell of the grill and summer air. I turn my head and catch his eye, and the heat in his gaze makes my breath catch.
The afternoon slips by in a blur of laughter and stories. I drink more than I should. The world tilts a little, soft and pleasant. Poe keeps me steady, his arm around my waist, his voice low in my ear when he checks in.
“You good, baby?” he murmurs at one point, lips brushing my ear.
I nod, smiling up at him. “Better than good.”
When the sun starts to set and the party shows no signs of slowing, Poe gently steers me toward the gate. “Time to get you home,” he says softly. “You’ve had enough fun for one day.”
I don’t argue. My head’s fuzzy, my body warm and loose, and the thought of being alone with him again makes my pulse quicken.