The next morning Emmett opened his eyes to find Monty sitting by the smoldering remains of their fire, cleaning his dark nails with the edge of a wicked dagger and watching him closely. Pushing himself off the hard ground, Emmett wrapped his blankets tighter around his body and blinked the sleep from his eyes. “Where’s Jack?”
Monty shrugged. “He’ll be back.”
Emmett yawned and ran a hand through his disheveled curls. How long had Jack been gone? And, more importantly, how long had Monty sat there watching him sleep? For some reason, that thought made Emmett uneasy.
As if he sensed Emmett’s discomfort, Monty chuckled. “You look like an angel when you sleep. Has Jack ever told you that?”
Emmett ducked his head to hide the blush creeping into his cheeks. “God, no. We’re not…” He sighed
