Chapter Thirty-Four
TOMMY
Lily remained quiet for the rest of the day, sleeping or with her nose in a book. I’m hardly surprised if the sounds of last night’s and this morning’s activities were anything to go by. But I’m glad she was worshipped in the way she deserves. With everything else going on, I think it was their way of showing her how they feel. Jax told me they’d likely be out of contact other than to check in to let us know they’ve arrived and update us when they can. I just hope I can do everything possible to keep Lily somewhat occupied until we have news that Mia is safe.
Jax and I spoke at length about the best recourse for getting her away from Richard, which will be the real test. In the end, we had Lily record a video message, hoping it would be enough to understand the gravity of the situation without traumatising her. The worry is if she gets caught in the crosshairs, who knows what someone like Richard will be capable of under duress? So far, his actions have proven the lengths he will go to, and that’s what worries us the most.
Deep down, I have to believe that if anyone is safe around him, it’s her, but then again, Mia is a lot like Lily in many ways. That’s what worries me. It’s something I brought up with Jax. But I didn’t have the heart to address it with Lily. She already has enough to worry about. I saw the way she looked at the guys before they left. I’d do anything to take away her pain and her worries.
“Lily, are you hungry?” I ask, joining her on the sofa.
She shakes her head, and I let out a heavy sigh.
“You need to eat something. You’ve not eaten since breakfast.”
Her stormy eyes lift from her e-reader and meet mine. “I know, I just don’t have an appetite,” she admits.
I reach for her wrist, gently tug the e-reader away from her, and place it on the small coffee table.
“Do you want to know what my mum used to do with me and my sister whenever we were feeling low and didn’t want to eat?”
Her eyebrows rise, and I can see my question has intrigued her by how she tilts her head and her eyes lose the grey swirls of melancholy.
“Yes.”
I stand and hold out my hand and tug her gently to her feet as I lead her towards the kitchen. I almost trip over my feet when I realise I didn’t need to brace myself before reaching for her hand, and the moment feels good. It’s really good.
“Up you go,” I say, nudging my chin towards the counter as I let go of her hand.
“What?”
Gripping her hips, I lift her off her feet. She gasps, her hands automatically going to my shoulders for balance until I rest her arse on the top of the counter.
I pull a bottle of Brut Rosé from the wine fridge, pop the cork, and pour her a glass. She raises it to me in a silent cheers before taking a couple of sips.
“Hmm, is this?” She reaches for the bottle and turns it to read the label, a smile forming.
“You remembered?” she whispers.
“Of course.” I made sure to have as many of her favourites delivered with our shopping, and I’m glad I did, by the smile gracing her lips.
“Thank you,” she says before taking another sip.
I reach for the medium-sized frying pan hanging from the rack and place it on the hob before lighting the ring and adding some oil. While it begins to heat, I grab a mixing bowl, measuring scoops, and some ingredients. Without looking up, I feel Lily’s eyes on me.
I add the plain flour and a pinch of salt before making a well in the centre and crack two eggs into the middle.
“Are you making pancakes?” she asks, and I swear I hear faint excitement in her voice.
“I am.”
I add milk and sunflower oil before I begin whisking from the centre until the flour is incorporated with the milk, eggs, and oil. Leaning my hip against the counter, I turn to face Lily. Her lips pulled into a smile.
“My mum used to make us pancakes every Sunday for brunch,” she says wistfully.
I smile. “It’s the only thing our mum could entice me and my sister with when we were little,” I reply, feeling a sense of nostalgia fill me as I beat the ingredients together into a smooth, thick paste.
When I’m happy with the consistency, I ladle some batter into the pan, tilting the mixture until I have a thick and even layer. After about thirty seconds, I flip the pancake.
“Show off, I still can’t flip a pancake to save my life,” she says, her ankles crossed as she swings her legs back and forth.
Once it’s ready I turn it onto a plate and then immediately throw it into the food waste bin.
Lily lets out a soft chuckle. “My mum used to do that too,” she says, tilting her chin towards the bin. “She’d always throw away the first one. Said it’s the best way to get the heat right.”
“It’s true. Come on, your turn. I’ll have you flipping pancakes like a MasterChef professional.”
She shakes her head. “Very doubtful. I think I’ll pass. I’d like to eat one that hasn’t landed on the floor.”
I remove the pan from the heat and stand in front of her. “But how much more satisfying will it be to eat one you tossed,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows.
She gently swats my shoulder, and my breath catches from the unexpected contact.Her eyes widen as soon as she realises, an apology already forming on her pretty mouth.
Determined to salvagethe moment, Iquickly lift her off the counter and turn her back to my chest, walking us in front of the hob. I briefly inhale her opulent scent, a gentle combination of citrus and floral notes, so much like her personality.
Taking a deep, measured breath, I reach around her, my front flush with her back as I grab the pan handle and place it back on the stove.
I glance down at the mark on her neck from one of the guys taking their claim. It catches my attention, and I want to do the same on the other side to match.
The thought has my dick growing harder, and before I have a chance to pull away, it’s pressing against Lily’s lower back. Her pulse beats wildly in her throat, and her breathing noticeably increases, but she makes no move to step away. Instead, she reaches for the ladle with a slight shake of her wrist and adds some batter to the pan.
“Good girl,” I whisper against the shell of her ear, earning myself a full-body shiver from her that vibrates against my dick.
“Okay, take the handle,” I say before covering her hands with mine, and then I show her the motion once.
“Ready, and flip.” I coax the movement with my hands over the top of hers as the pancake flies into the air before landing back in the pan.
She squeals, her excitement palpable, and glances over her shoulder, her lips close to mine.
“Want to do it again,” I say, moving the pancake to the warm plate beside the hob.
“Yes.”
Her focus returns to the batter mixture, and we repeat this a few times. On the fifth flip, I remove my hands from on top of hers, and she does it all by herself.
“See, what did I tell you?” My lips graze her ear, and her breath catches. “You’re practically a pro already.”
She turns her face towards mine, and I lower my gaze to her lips.
So tempting. I reach out and grip her jaw softly as I tilt her head, and I lower my mouth to hers, teasing her lips with my tongue. She responds in kind and opens up to me. I’m met with the bright, fruity aftertaste of the wine still fresh on her tongue.
Everything about her is addictive, and for the briefest moment, I can lose myself to Lily in a searing kiss, connecting us on a deeper level. But the smell of burning has us pulling apart. I quickly spin her around to lean over, remove the pan from the hob, and turn off the stove. The moment’s broken—just like me.