Island of Glass
Page 62

“You suck at groveling, too,” Riley commented.
“Apparently. Look, what I went to do was really important to me. I went about it wrong, and I’m sorry. Mea culpa squared, sincerely. That’s it.”
“Maybe we should all just cool off a little, then we can talk about this more reasonably.” Sasha moved over to stir the sauce. “And we still need those supplies.”
“You didn’t get the buggering supplies.”
“We got a little distracted,” Riley snapped back at Doyle. “We’ll go get the buggering supplies now.”
“No, Annika and I’ll go get them.”
“Yes.” Annika linked her arm through Doyle’s. “We will go, and I will get cool so we can talk again.”
She held her hand, palm up, to Sawyer. “You have the list of what we need to buy.”
He pulled it out of his back pocket, handed it to her. Said, “Balls,” when she sailed out beside Doyle.
“She’ll get over it. You’re all going to have to get over it,” Riley said. “We did what we did, copped to it. If you’re going to scold us some more, I want more wine.”
Sasha glanced back from the stove. “It was unnecessarily risky.”
“It didn’t feel like it.” Riley shrugged.
“Until you were waiting for the dark god to bring you beer nuts?” Bran suggested.
“Even then. It was clear intimidation, Irish. Did it give us a jolt? Sure. But what was she going to do? She doesn’t, or hasn’t, come to fight on her own. We should have told you guys—sans Anni. Not doing that was stupid, just stupid. I can only say I guess we were so into the secret mission we didn’t think of it.”
“Shortsighted, impulsive. And understandable.”
“Under—” Shocked nearly speechless, Sasha swung around, gaped at Bran.
“A ghrá. A man in love often thinks with heart instead of head.”
Sawyer tried a winning smile in Sasha’s direction, patted his hand over his heart.
She sniffed. “Riley’s not a man in love and should’ve known better.”
“For friendship one also does the foolish.”
“Foolish isn’t— I’ll shut up,” Riley decided. “Come on, Sash, all’s well that ends with everybody breathing. And you know you want to see the rocks. You really want to see the shinies Sawyer bought for the ring.”
“I really don’t— Damn it, of course I want to see them.”
Grasping the reprieve, Sawyer pulled the pouches from his pocket. “This one’s the big kahuna.”
He poured the stone into his hand. Perfectly round, beautifully blue, it gleamed there like a small pool.
“Aquamarine.” Smiling, Bran rubbed a hand on Sasha’s shoulder. “As legends say the mermaids once prized the stones.”
“Blue sea—the name means blue sea, so it fits,” Riley added.
“It’s lovely, Sawyer. Can I?” Sasha lifted it, held it up. “Oh, look how many shades of blue in the light. You couldn’t have chosen anything more right for her.”
“You think? I’ve got these little stones.” From the second pouch he poured a stream of tiny diamonds, pink sapphires, more aquamarines. “I was thinking you could come up with something, and I got these.” From a third pouch he took two bands of platinum. “And then maybe Bran could put it all together.”
“I’d be happy to.”
“And I’ve already got a couple of ideas.” Sasha took another study of the stone, handed it back. “That doesn’t mean I’m not still annoyed.”
“Down to annoyed’s progress.” Sawyer re-pouched the stones, the bands.
“In the name of progress, I’d like to add one thing. When the bitch said a storm’s coming, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.”
Sawyer looked at Riley. “You, too?”
“Oh, yeah. Something there, something big. That wasn’t just bluster. For me, it was slipped in out of pique, but it had weight. Maybe it’ll springboard something for you.”
“Not right now,” Sasha told her.
“Something to think on. I’m going to think on it while I hit the books. That’s my penance.”
“Researching isn’t penance for you. Making a salad, however—”
“I’m better at that; she’s better at the books.” Sawyer tried that winning smile again. “Let’s play to our strengths.”
“Good plan. I’m in my room, digging in if needed.” Riley escaped while she had the chance.
Maybe she didn’t like having Doyle and Annika still pissed, but she figured Annika wasn’t wired to stay mad for long. And she had a plan where Doyle was concerned.
As she had her balcony doors open, she heard them come back. Biding her time, she continued to work, take notes. It didn’t take him long.
When he walked in, she sat at her desk. Wearing nothing but his shirt.
He closed the door with a decisive snap. “That’s your research outfit?”
“This?” She swiveled in the chair. Yeah, still pissed, but . . . interested. “I figured you’d get around to wanting your shirt back. Just wanted to have it handy.”
“You think you can distract me with sex?”
“Sure.” She rose. “I get wanting your shirt back, but it seems a little redundant when you’re already wearing one.”