Chapter 27 Peter
PETER
“Shit!” Faye barked as she burned her hand on the milk steamer.
“Run it under the cold,” Peter said, grabbing her hand and holding it under the cold tap.
“It’s just a minor burn,” Faye snapped, snatching her hand away from him.
“What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting strange since the other night,” Peter fretted, wondering what the hell had got into her.
She hadn’t come to bed last night, and he’d found her asleep on the couch.
When he’d come back from a dawn collection, she was already prepping the kitchen, which was normal, but she hadn’t been singing along to her favourite tunes; instead, she was muttering curses under her breath and otherwise working in absolute silence.
“Just tired. I got up early to prep the pie bases for today’s special.
Stupidly, I forgot to add the weights, so it was a waste of time and pastry,” she explained, not meeting his gaze as she served the coffee and pecan pie to a waiting customer.
He knew her well enough to know she wasn’t mad about the pies or wasted pastry.
“Everyone out!” Peter suddenly announced.
“What are you doing?” Faye asked, flushed with embarrassment as the customers stared at them behind the till.
“We’re closing for the rest of the day.”
“Well, I never,” Mr Lark grumbled, with a mouth full of pie.
“Sorry for the inconvenience, but there’s an emergency.” Peter started handing out take-out boxes.
“There’s no emergency,” Faye countered, and the customers who’d already started to get up stood frozen, unsure of what to do.
“Unless you want to meet death, I suggest you all pack up.” Peter winked at Faye, who looked ready to kill. She crossed her arms over her chest, but didn’t argue, starting to clear the empty tables as the last customer left.
“Why did you do that?” she asked, not looking at him. “It’s just a small burn. Nothing to get your scythe in a knot about.”
Peter walked around the counter and took the plates and cups from her hands, then put them down on the counter.
“What do you want now?” Faye huffed, staring up at him. The last time he had seen her this riled up, she’d removed Ian’s fangs, and he didn’t want to be on the wrong side of her pliers.
“Someone needs a nap and a snack.” Peter tossed her over his shoulder and carried her into the kitchen.
“I’m not a child.” She squirmed, but he held her firmly.
“Then don’t act like one.”
“Peter! PUT ME DOWN!”
Scarlett flew down from the apartment and circled the air above them, blowing little puffballs of smoke and fire around Peter. He swatted the flames away and grabbed a tub of icing from the shelf to distract the creature from attacking him and setting off the fire alarm.
“If only you were as easy to placate,” Peter said, as Scarlett took the tub of icing back up to the apartment. Faye muttered something under her breath.
“What on earth has got into you?” Peter plonked her down on the steel-top counter and held her hips when she tried to squirm away from him. “I can sense when you’re hiding something from me.” Was it just her anxiety about the competition next week?
“Don’t use your Reaper emotional trickery on me! That’s not fair,” Faye said, tears welling in her eyes.
“I didn’t, and I wouldn’t.” Had he been too harsh? He reached up to brush away her tears, but she swatted him away. “But I know you well enough to know that something is going on in that gorgeous big brain of yours.”
“Stop being so nice to me,” Faye whispered.
“Have I done something?” he asked, trying to think if he’d left any damp towels in the bathroom or dishes in the sink. She really hated when he did that.
“No!” she barked, but the fear in her eyes scared the life out of him.
Before he could ask why she was so upset, she crushed her lips to his mercilessly.
Desire, fear and caution all collided in a frenzy.
He gripped her shoulders and tried to pull her away, but she only pulled him closer and reached for his belt.
He gripped her wrists and held them by her sides.
Faye pouted up at him and wrapped her legs around him.
“What’s got into you?” he panted as she rolled her hips against him, making him regret getting this close to her.
“You, if you’re lucky.”
“Did you drink some of Luisa’s weird tea?” He was trying to hold her still and stop himself from taking her right there on the kitchen counter.
She shook her head. “I know exactly what I’m doing and what I want.”
“W-we need to talk—” he stammered, struggling to keep his focus as she trailed her lips along his jawline.
“We can talk after,” she countered, untying his apron and slipping her hands under the back of his T-shirt. “Please, Peter, I just want to be with you.”
Who am I to argue with her logic?
“That got you to smile,” he rasped, catching his breath as they lay on the couch, exhausted and satisfied. She went to smack him playfully on the chest, but he caught her hand and kissed her palm.
“You can’t sex me into a good mood,” she mock-grumbled, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch to cover them.
“Seems I can,” he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “Can you tell me what’s going on now?”
“I don’t know. I keep thinking that I’m going to lose you. That one day this happiness will end, and that something terrible will happen to you,” she confessed, running her fingers over his chest.
“I’m not going anywhere! You don’t have to worry about me.” He didn’t know what had prompted such feelings, but given her history and how well things had been going between them, he understood her fears.
She stared up at him with those big eyes. “I want to believe you, but nothing good lasts.”
Peter’s heart ached. He didn’t want her to spend what time they had left together worried and afraid. Could she somehow sense what was coming?
“Then we should make this moment last. Today, right now, you and me – it’s all that matters.”
Faye snuggled into him on the couch and fell asleep. He pressed his lips to her forehead, wishing he could erase her fears and anxiety.