Shadow of Doubt - Hailey Edwards Page 0,69
seated at a table full of food and expect to come back to more than empty plates.
Ford cranked his head around to see who was calling on me, but he had to have known. He must have sensed it was Midas.
“I didn’t realize you had company.” Midas stood in the doorway, hand on the knob. “I can come back.”
“It’s just Ford,” I said too quickly, and regretted his flinch. “Hungry? We’ve got plenty.”
“Talk about swimming against the current,” Ford said on a sigh. “Hadley wanted to talk to you anyway.” He gave me a pointed look. “Remember?”
“I remember.” I didn’t miss the tension growing between the men. “I’ll text you when I’m ready to go.”
“I’ll be down in the lobby catching up with Roe and Giada,” Ford said. “Take your time.”
The names were unfamiliar, but it’s not like I had made an attempt to learn the pack roster. More than likely they were the two sisters who had given him their number. I warned him not to toss their note, that he would piece it back together at a low point, but men never listened.
That I found this scenario amusing told me I wasn’t serious about Ford.
Frak. Frak. Frak.
“You didn’t say if you were hungry.” I cleared Ford’s place and set another one for Midas. “Since you’re gwyllgi, I’ll assume the answer is yes.”
Midas didn’t move past the front door Ford shut behind him. “I came to apologize.”
“For the marking thing?” I waved it away. “Ford told me it was accidental.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t owe you an apology.”
“Sit.” I pulled out a chair. “Eat.”
He did as he was told, tucking a lock of golden hair behind his ear.
“You’re new to the heir gig, so I get it.” I sat back down and dumped mounds of food onto his plate when he made no move to select for himself. “There are a lot of things I’m still learning too. I’m not mad.”
He lifted his fork, studied his plate, turned it in his hand, speared the pulled pork, but still didn’t dig in.
I braced my elbow on the table then cupped my chin in my palm. “Please tell me this isn’t a caveman thing where Ford bought the food, and you can’t eat it because of man cooties or some silly thing.”
“Pack etiquette is not some silly thing.” His lips thinned. “Our instincts are what keep us alive.”
“What’s the deal with the food?”
He set down his fork. “I’m not sure.”
“I hope it’s not poisoned.” I sniffed the leftovers, praying the pixie girl didn’t take revenge on those who shunned her car services. “Ford and I ate enough to ensure we’ll both kick the bucket. Maybe even a few of them.” I shoved back from the table and opened my freezer since my fridge was empty. “I froze single servings of spaghetti last week for when I’m craving meatballs but too lazy to cook. I can heat one up for you?”
“You don’t mind?”
“Nah.” I selected one of the storage containers and popped it in the microwave. “Won’t take but a minute.” I mashed in the time. “Well, technically I guess it will take four minutes and forty-five seconds, but who’s counting?” I checked my fridge before asking about sides. “You want toast? I can do garlic butter or garlic butter and cheese?”
“Plain toast is fine.”
“You’re not putting me out.” I leaned my hip against the open door. “I offered.”
“Can I have the cheese version?”
“Sure.” I got out what I needed and set to work. “Who told you about the mark thing?”
“Mom.”
“Ouch.” I winced in sympathy. “I bet that went over like a lead balloon.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I saw you on your date, Goldilocks.” Yes, I made air quotes. Big ones. Really threw my whole body into it. “Your mom probably alphabetized the entire pack’s list of eligible females then checks them off as you burn through them.”
“Necromancers believe in arranged marriages,” he pointed out, sounding tired. “How is this any different?”
“From where I’m standing, it’s no different at all.” I might have slammed the oven door on the toast. The butter on my hands made it slip through my fingers. “I’m not saying they’re all bad. Some of them work out okay. Grier and Linus, for example. I’ve seen it go bad just as often. More often. My parents…”
I worried my bottom lip with my teeth until it bled, a habit from childhood, from the times when I had to bite down to keep from talking back, to keep from screaming,