Page 77 of The Fire We Make

He leaned onto the island beside her, catching a whiff of her mouth-watering fragrance.

“Extra sugar in mine,” he requested, his mouth near Joy’s ear. She tried to suppress the shiver that went through her at his proximity but it was too late. Ace smirked.

He liked that he could elicit such reactions from her. Whenever people shivered around him it was usually out of well-informed fear. Joy’s body’s reaction to him wasn’t that of fear but need and he didn’t think he could ever get enough of that.

He watched as she dumped another spoonful of sugar into his cup, stirred it, then slid it over to him. Joy leaned her butt against the counter and shook her head. “Why don’t you just cut out the middle man and snort the shit instead.”

Ace chuckled around his cup of coffee then took a few sips. “You and that smart ass mouth.”

Returning to his position leaning onto the counter, Ace watched as she cut her bagel down the middle.

“Let me get that knife when you’re done,” he requested.

Joy completed the clean slice then without looking, flipped it in one swift motion to offer it to him, handle first.

Ace’s fingers closed around it.

Interesting, he thought.

She hadn’t even looked up, handling the knife with practiced ease and ensuring the blade never pointed at someone with the instinct of a soldier. Like she was accustomed to dealing with weapons beyond the little gold gun she always had on her.

Ace spread the cream cheese onto his bagel without taking his eyes off of her.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway as someone passed. Joy’s eyes flicked to the kitchen entrance for just a second before returning to her routine. The action was quick, a small moment of awareness. A few moments later, another set of steps passed and Joy tracked it with the same quick glance. She wasn’t startled or even assessing, just impeccably vigilant in a way that goes beyond nature, but is trained.

His grip tightened on his mug.

People who expect danger learned to account for every threat, staying ready in case they needed to become the danger.

Joy grabbed a mug from the cupboard and the brown sugar, then turned to retrieve the almond milk from the fridge.

Ace shifted slightly, his elbow nudging the ceramic mug to the edge of the counter.

When Joy turned back around, the mug wasn’t where she’d put it, and her miscalculation made her bump it with the carton of milk.

The mug tipped, tumbling towards the tile.

Before Ace could reach for it, Joy’s hand shot out, catching it just inches before it shattered.

Her movements were clean and swift. Smooth without an ounce of panic or fumbling. She righted it on the counter before returning to assembling her coffee like nothing happened.

Ace stared for a moment before he spoke. “Good reflexes,” he mused.

“I was an athlete,” Joy tried to explain without meeting Ace’s eyes.

“Yeah? What sport?” He eyed her.

“Tennis.”

“Hmm. Were you any good?”

“No Serena, but I did okay,” she shrugged.

Ace simply stared, a smirk creeping onto his face as he drummed his fingers against the counter.

“How did you feel after yesterday?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”she asked, turning to him after getting a spoon to stir her drink.