By then Kade was ready for a fight. Itching for one. Something was way wrong in Davey’s world, and hard as he tried not to go there, Kade imagined the worst. After sharing kitchen duty with Sophie to prepare a decent breakfast for Davey—an event he’d found pleasantly distracting—they’d settled at Ida June’s Chippendale coffee table with a deck of cards Sophie had supplied. “I’m a teacher,” she said when he’d raised a curious eyebrow at some of the things she’d taken from the oversize tote. “What can I say? Always be prepared.” “Better than a Boy Scout,” he’d replied. She’d rewarded his joke with a smile. Now he was teaching Davey the fine art of War, a man’s game if ever there was one. Davey, the little wart, had quickly discovered the joys of taking his adult opponents’ lower-numbered cards and was amassing quite a pile. The silent, breathy giggle was heartbreakingly cute. Cute enough to make Kade mad all over again. Somebody was gonna pay for this boy’s pain.
