Page 48 of Final Shift
“I'll remember that,” he said softly, those midnight eyes pinning me in place.
I tossed my keys onto the kitchen island. “Why are you here, Ethan? And how the hell did you get through Rowan's wards?”
“Rowan has given me a temporary pass.”
My eyebrows went up. Rowan wasn't the most trusting of Lords, and neither was Ethan. This temporary alliance they had going on surprised me. In fact, a lot about Ethan surprised me these days. When I first met him, I thought he was an asshole. He hadn't done much to change my mind, either, but everything had changed when I snuck into his territory.
I'd made a terrible mistake when I broke into his house all those months ago. The moment I did that, I realized Ethan was much more than he seemed. Every single one of the Lords was brutal and violent when they needed to be. But Ethan had an entire life before, a life where he seemed to be a different person.
A life that held love and laughter.
Time and grief had damaged him. His temples were edged in silver, a color almost unheard of in an immortal, and the edges of his eyes held the faintest of creases, as if the Lord used to laugh all the time and the memory had imprinted onto his skin and never let go—the last stubborn vestiges of the life he had before he became the hard vicious thing to sit before me today.
Except, he wasn't that man. Not all the time. And not right now in the incandescent light of my living room, sprawled on my couch like the room belonged to him.
I could give him no quarter. Ethan barely tolerated me, yet he kept coming around. I wasn't stupid enough to think it was formy cookies. The Lord wanted something from me—something he hadn't yet gotten around to asking me.
“You haven't answered my second question.”
I shrugged off my jacket and slung it on the back of my recliner. “Do you want a martini?”
Ethan blinked. “Uh. What kind?”
“Whatever kind you want.” I opened one of the upper cabinets and waved my hand around like a bikini girl on a game show. “I collect every liquor known to man.”
Ethan frowned. “What kind are you having?”
“I made white chocolate macadamia cookies earlier. I thought I'd make a martini to match it.”
I hid my smile when I turned to see Ethan closing his eyes for a moment. The Lord had a serious sweet tooth and tried his best to hide it from me. I looked away before he spotted my attention.
“Sure,” he said after a moment. “Thank you.”
I turned my back to him and gathered the bottles I needed. “Do you want a couple of cookies, too?”
“Yes,” he said too quickly.
I grinned at the cabinet and reached over to turn the air fryer on. The cookies were excellent, if I did say so myself, but they were even better warmed and with crispy edges.
While he didn't move from his spot, Ethan still watched me intently as I made our drinks. When he saw me put on a pot holder and grab the cocktail shaker, he frowned. “What are you doing?”
“The shaker gets really cold and numbs my hand.” I confessed. Sensitivity to the cold was a new and odd side effect of the magic exposure I'd received on Caelan's Keep. Most of the time I was fine, but when the temperatures went too low, I had to bundle up or suffer the consequences. Using the steel cocktail shaker with ice sent the temperature plummeting and my hand went numb when I used the thing now.
Ethan rose, his form smooth like water, and came over. He slid his hand over mine and extricated the shaker from my grip. Setting it down, he grasped my wrist and tugged the potholder off.
I stared up at him, entranced by how dark his eyes were and how godsdamn sexy he was. My heart thumped in my ribcage, and I knew the bastard could hear it, but I didn't care.
Ethan slid his fingers down my wrist, his touch burning a trail of fire down my skin. “I'll do it.”
He picked up the shaker and turned away like he hadn't just set my pants on fire.
I tucked my trembling fingers into my pockets.Asshole.
Twenty seconds later, Ethan poured the martinis into two chilled glasses and handed me one.
I had to admit. Having a shifter shake your cocktails sent the perfect amount of ice slivers into the drink and made it so damn cold my lips felt frozen after I took the first sip. I should trademark that idea and start a bar with only shifter bartenders. I'd call it The Tipsy Claw.
“How long?” Ethan demanded. He took a sip of the martini, blinked, and took another one. His brow furrowed.
