Kylie scooped up the plates she’d been loading with French toast, watching Devon walk back to the living room with a giant, goofy smile on her face before turning back to Kellan. “Okay. Breakfast is served.”
He grabbed one of the forks that had been lying in wait on the table, his stomach going for a high-powered growl as he inhaled the spicy-sweet scents of cinnamon and maple syrup goodness. “Thanks. I’m starving.”
She laughed, handing over his plate and sitting next to him with her own. “It’s not cold pizza, but it’ll do.”
“Ha-ha,” Kellan said, digging into the edge of one golden-brown piece of French toast. A few seconds later, his taste buds damn near exploded. “Jeez, Ky.” In went another bite, then another, and screw manners. He’d lick the plate to get every last crumb into his cakehole. “Did you put crack in these? Because seriously. They’re off the chain.”
“Nope.” She popped a bite into her mouth, but it still didn’t hide her smile. “Just regular pantry ingredients. I can write down the recipe if you want to make them for Isabella.”
Kellan’s fork dropped to his plate with an inelegant clatter. “Uh,” he managed. “What makes you think I’d be cooking breakfast for her?”
Kylie arched a dark brown brow at him over the table. “Come on. You told Devon she’s staying with you while her apartment gets cleaned up, and any idiot can see that you two are into each other.”
“There’s a little more to it than that,” Kellan argued.
But Kylie just rolled her eyes. “Actually, there isn’t. You like her, she likes you. I hate to break it to you, but this is how relationships are supposed to work.”
“Okay, Isabella and I aren’t…” He broke off at his sister’s don’t-even-try-it stare, and jeez, she really was a barracuda. “We’ve only been, ah, spending time together for a couple of weeks.”
Mercifully, Kylie let his awkward semantics slide. “Yeah, but you’ve known her for months. Plus, you two have been through a lot together lately. This DuPree guy sounds awful.”
“He’s not a Boy Scout,” Kellan said, and left it at that. “But just because I helped Isabella work this case and she’s staying with me until her place is right side up doesn’t mean things are serious.”
Serious meant emotions, and emotions were dangerous. He needed to stay steady. He couldn’t lose control. Which meant everything he felt for Isabella needed to stay way down deep.
Didn’t it?
“Okay,” Kylie said. Rather than pin the word with a bunch of sass or sarcasm, though, she simply smiled and hopped up from the table. “At any rate, Devon mentioned that Isabella probably wouldn’t be able to take anything out of her apartment for at least a day, and knowing her, she’s not going to want to stop working on this case even to pee, let alone shop for toiletries and a change of clothes. So I ran out this morning to grab a few things for her.”
Surprise worked its way up Kellan’s spine as he looked inside one of the three plastic shopping bags Kylie had grabbed from the side table by the pantry. “That was really cool of you.”
“Well, you like her, so…” Kylie shrugged, but her smile was impossible to miss. “Plus, she did kind of go above and beyond to catch the crooked cop who nearly got me and Devon killed, so y’know. There’s that, too.”
Kellan’s gaze caught on something inside the bag, and wait. Was that...?
“Really, Ky?” he asked, the back of his neck heating as he lifted a silky, dark green thong from between a T-shirt and a toothbrush.
His sister, who seemed utterly unaffected, waggled her brows and popped a bite of French toast into her mouth. “Mmmkay,” she murmured between chews. “So you like her a lot. It’s fine to say so out loud, even if things aren’t serious.”
Whether it was Kylie’s unexpected generosity or the ease with which she spoke about such a potentially serious topic, Kellan couldn’t be sure. But something prompted him to ask, “How come you didn’t say anything? A couple of months ago, when Isabella told you she’d gone back to Chicago to nail Burton and seal up your case. How come you didn’t tell me?”