Locke freezes mid-stride on his way to fetch the coffee pot. His sharp eyes snap instantly from Evelyn over to me, and then back to Evelyn. He lowers the pot slowly onto the stove trivet, his broad shoulders tightening as he squints at her.
"Evie..." Locke starts, then falters a bit. “What are you – what did you just say?"
Evelyn turns around, setting the pitcher down on the timber table, and rolls her dark eyes with affectionate exasperation. "Oh, come on, Rex. You think I didn't see the way she was holding her stomach last night by the fireplace? Or the fact that you looked ready to throw her over your shoulder and into the truck every time she took a slightly deep breath at dinner?”
I blush, look over at Locke.
“I wasn't born yesterday, and I certainly know how you act when you're t
