Games of Fire (6 page)

“Well, it’s your fault I’m wearing these in the first place!”
She regretted opening her mouth almost instantly.

Those long,
tattooed arms folded across his chest and he tilted his head to the side. “My fault for saving your life? Well that’s gratitude. I’ll just let you get turned into a pancake next time.”

She tossed the napkin down on the tray, wishing she could erase her remark as easily as she had the cheese.
So she wasn’t being fair and he was right, he had saved her life, a fact she would no doubt never live down. She would have liked to think she was overreacting and he was really a nice guy and just misjudged, but that didn’t explain his inexplicable ability to suck all rational thought from her brain. He was the only person on the planet who could infuriate her while simultaneously turning all her bones to jelly and her brain to wispy tendrils of fog, which only managed to piss her off all the more.

“Thank you!” she muttered, unable to meet his eyes or move her stiff lips.

He leaned
a tad closer. “What was that?”

Her gaze snapped up to his,
her cheeks red at the humor twinkling in his eyes. “I said, thank you for saving me.”

His bottom lip slipped between his teeth in a very wrong, very sexy way that made all her
nerve endings tingle. Her attention fixated on the firm fold with longing. “Maybe one more time so I can really enjoy it.”

Against her w
ill, completely out of the blue and fully unwelcomed, her lips twitched. “Shut up!” she muttered, pulling her knees up to her chin. “Are you going to sit down or stand there like a statue?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

Slanting him an odd glance, she turned her attention to the eyes drilling unblinkingly into her very soul.

Suzy
was tiny, barely coming to Sophie’s chest with wary blue eyes and a sharp little nose. Her hair was cut into a severe bob that grazed her pointy jawline, very
Village of the Damned,
Sophie thought. She was all bony arms and legs, which looked even thinner in the khaki pants and red t-shirt. She was unusually pale, like she never saw the sunlight and very blonde, right down to her eyelashes and eyebrows. Combined with her ability to sit statue-still and not blink, she reminded Sophie of a doll she wanted to stick at the back of her closet and forget.

“Suzy, right?” she ventured carefully.

The girl nodded.

“I’m Sophie.”

“I know who you are,” the girl said sternly, like Sophie was an idiot. “You’re all
Mom talks about.”

Sophie blinked, surprised. “Really? Why?”

There was sheer disgust on the girl’s face now. “Do you really need an ego boost?”

Sophie gave a start, not expecting such hostilities from such a small person. “Excuse me?”

“I suppose you’re kind of pretty,” Suzy continued. “If you like the whole long legs and big boobs—”

“Hey!”

Suzy ignored the shout of protest. “But Spencer won’t fall for that, right, Spencer?”

Doing a very bad job of concealing his laughter, Spencer nodded. “So not into long legs and big boobs.”

Appalled, Sophie stared between the two. “I do not have … that’s just so … how old are you?”

“Twelve, but I’m very advance
d for my age. I can read at a university level.”

Definitely
Children of the Corn
.

“I bet you thought I was just some dumb kid.”

Sophie forced a smile. “Nope. Not dumb.” Creepy? Hell. Yes!

“But back on topic, I personally don’t see anything special about you.”

It was quickly becoming apparent that the ass gene did not stray far in this family. “I keep my special locked in a box, along with my patience and my conscience. They keep each other company.”

It had been meant as a joke, but Suzy’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really think you’re funny?”

“Not on purpose,” she admitted and got a snicker from Spencer.

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of intelligence, did you know?”

“Suzy!” Spencer said finally, with a touch of warning.

“Well that sucks,” Sophie answered evenly. “Sarcasm is the only language I know.”

Suzy looked at her b
rother, her expression saying very clearly,
seriously?

Sophie
frowned. “Shouldn’t you be with your dad? I thought you only came to see your mom on weekends. It’s Monday,” she added in case the demon child couldn’t tell the days of the week.

Suzy scowled. “I had a dentist appointment. Mom took me. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Yeah, wow!
She was beginning to wish she hadn’t initiated conversation. She preferred the kid mute.

Sophie
turned her attention back to Spencer. “Going to sit?”

For a moment, he looked like he was content being a statue, standing there and watching her with that smug smirk on his face. But he pushed a hand through his hair and walked over to the armchair next to the sofa. He lowered himself carefully like he was afraid of
being eaten by the cushions and leaned back. He looked very
Dr. Evil
with his hands splayed on either armrest.

No sooner had he fully submerged himself into the chair when the phone rang. They heard her mother snatch it up in the kitchen. The soft murmur of her voice filled the silence. The next second her mother stuck her head around the corner, receiver in hand.

“It’s Jess and Lauren.”

“I’ll take it!” Sophie said, twisting her body and throwing herself on the opposite end of the sofa to snatch up the phone on the glass end table.
She heard her mother hang up in the kitchen. “Hello?”

“Oh my Lord, Sophie!” Jessie sniffled loudly. “We’ve been so worried!”

“We heard you were hit by a truck!” Lauren said at the same time through the three-way calling.

“Are you okay? Are you in a lot of pain?” Jessie went on, voice thick with barely suppressed emotion.

“Did Mr. Delicious seriously save your life?”

“Will you be at school tomorrow?”

“Want us to come hang with you tonight?”

“Whoa, guys, one at a time!” she tried to make it come off as a joke, but their combined rapid fire was pressing every pain nerve in her skull, making the goose egg thrum.

“Are you okay?” Jessie said at once.

“I’m fine,” Sophie repeated, prodding lightly at the throbbing in her temple with her fingertips.

“So it’s true then?” Lauren pressed. “Mr. Delicious saved you?”

Sophie spared Spencer a quick peek from the
corner of her eye. He was helping his sister polish off the nachos and cheese. “Yes.”

“So you admit he’s delicious.”

Sophie almost laughed. “Can’t answer that right now.”

“Ooooh! Why? Is he there? Is he feeding you peeled grapes and fanning you with giant leaves?” Lauren paused only a split second before adding. “Is he naked?”

“Oh my God, Lauren!” She did laugh this time. Spencer and Suzy were eyeing her when she stole a peek in their direction, trying to smother her fit of giggles behind her hand.

“He is! Nice.”

Shaking her head, Sophie replied, “You’re nuts. That will never happen.”

“Too bad. I’d ask for pictures.”

“So what happened?” Jessie cut in.

Sophie told them
, keeping her voice as low as she possibly could, hoping Spencer couldn’t hear. He wasn’t watching when she glanced up at him, but several times, she could have sworn he was grinning. It was always concealed with a chip though. She wished the living room phone was a cordless, but her parents were abnormally fond of cords. Every phone in the house, save for the cell phones, had a cord.

“Mr. Delicious?”

Sophie nearly jumped out of her skin. The receiver made a cluttering sound, narrowly missing the base when she dropped it too soon, having already said goodbye to her friends. She whipped her head around, a bad idea when sharp fingers carved into her brain.

“What?”

Sitting back, chewing slowly around a wide grin, Spencer studied her through his lashes. “Is that my nickname? Mr. Delicious?”

The pain was overruled quickly by the
hot flood of embarrassment that swelled behind her skin. “What … no! Who …”

“We heard you,” Suzy said helpfully.

“You were listening?” she gasped.

“We’re right here you know
?” Suzy said. “Not hard to miss.”

“So, is it true?”

Panicked, Sophie blurted, “We were talking about Lauren’s hamster!”

“No
you weren’t.”

Sophie ignored the demon child on the other end of the sofa by pulling the blanket out from beneath her and draping it over her curled legs.
What she wanted to do was pull it straight over her head, but she’d humiliated herself enough for one day.

Her head throbbed, pulsing like a second heartbeat between her ears. She wondered if it was possible for h
er brain to melt and ooze from her ears. It certainly seemed like it was going to try. The pain lanced behind her eyes, making them burn. She laid her head back, promising herself just a moment to stop the nausea building in her chest.

In the near distance, she was vaguely aware of rustling fabric. She peeled her eyes open just a slit to watch as Spencer scooped something from the tray, next to a glass of water and stepped over to her.

“Here.”

The aspirin and water made sense. It was to cure the angry little demons trying to burrow their way out of her skull. What eluded her was why
he
was offering them.

“Thanks,” she said nevertheless, accepting the offerings.

She eyed him carefully while he moved back to his seat. She swallowed the pills, never taking wary eyes off him.

“What?” he said.

“Who are you?” she muttered, bewildered by the presence of this new, nicer Spencer.

He just rolled his eyes, scrubbing a hand over his face and back into his hair, a gesture he did a lot, she noted.

“Were you abducted by aliens? Did they probe you?”

His hand dropped into his lap and he glowered at her. “Seriously?”

“Aliens don’t actually probe people,” Suzy began. “They—”

“Suzy!” Spencer’s quiet warning silenced the kid, much to Sophie’s eternal
gratitude.

She set the glass down on the coffee table and yawned loudly. She tried to stifle the sound with the back of her hand. The pain medication the nurse had given her at the hospital
was beginning to take effect, she realized groggily as her eyes slipped closed She was asleep in seconds.

Night sifted in a soft hum of silence and swaying shadows. One peeled away from the others and claimed shape as it drifted over carpet towards the sofa and the
lump cuddled beneath a weight of blankets. Hands encased in leather cut through the distance and gingerly swept a tendril of hair off a pink cheek. His carelessness had nearly cost him. Had he been there, she would never have done something so stupid. Had he not known all along that she was incapable of making her own decisions? She needed him to guide her and protect her. Her injuries were on his head.

Never again. He would make certain of that.

By Wednesday, Sophie was ready to chew her own leg off if it meant escaping the watchful eyes of her mother. The sofa had a permanent imprint of her butt and she was becoming disturbingly addicted to daytime television, especially
Days of Our Lives.
She knew it had become a problem when she began creating family trees for each character.

“What if you faint?”
her mother rationalized when Sophie told her the plans to return to school. Never mind the fact that it had been a full week since the incident and if Sophie was going to die, she would have already.

“Mom, if I see one more rerun of
Who’s My Baby’s Daddy
, I will kill myself,” she said, almost meaning it.