In a Fix (Torus Intercession 2)

“I’m Jackie,” she said, beaming at me, walking around the island to take a seat beside her daughter, who was talking animatedly to whoever was on the other end of the line.

She picked up Cate’s fork, took a bite of the omelet, and then smiled up at me. “That’s very good,” she praised me.

“Can I make you one?” I offered, going back to my own food for a moment.

“No, no,” she said, glancing over my shoulder. “But I would love some tea.”

“It’s Irish Breakfast, is that okay?”

“Wonderful,” she said, chin on her hand, looking me over. “You know he has a milk frother. I bought it.”

“Where?” I asked her.

She pointed, and I got it out and made her tea a latte, which I guessed was what she was hinting at.

“So, Croy,” she murmured, sipping her tea, “I’m having friends over tonight, just a casual meal, drinks and dinner. I’d love it if you and my son came by.”

“Well, ma’am, I’m not sure what he’s got planned, but I’ll ask him as soon as he wakes up from his nap.”

She nodded. “And he’s been sleeping for a bit, has he?”

“He needed the rest.”

“Wore him out, did you?”

I choked on my orange juice but recovered quickly. “No, ma’am,” I rasped, my voice barely there. “He was just tired.”

Her eyes narrowed. “My son tends not to sleep at all. Ever. I’ve taken to popping in and restocking the refrigerator, and if I get here early enough, it’s not unusual to meet him on the way in.”

“He’s a very committed agent,” I told her.

“It’s the walk of shame, Croy,” she informed me with a cynical eyebrow.

I chuckled. “It happens.”

She cleared her throat softly. “But never, ever, I can promise you, have I found a man in his kitchen.”

“Well, as I said, because we’re––”

“Working a case together, yes.”

“Who are you talk––”

Dallas was frozen under the arch that led from the hall into the living room and kitchen.

“Oh no.” He almost whined.

“You should put on some clothes, darling,” Jackie suggested cheerfully, because the only thing he wore was the towel around his waist. “We’re having breakfast.”

Instant scowl. “I told you I didn’t need you to put food in my fridge, and you don’t have to come over here and––”

“Oh, I didn’t do the shopping, sweetie. Croy did,” she said, baiting him. “And I’m not cooking, he is.”

His gaze shifted to me. “You cook?”

I grinned at him. “Only a little bit.”

Full whimper then.

“Would you like an omelet?”

He nodded.

“You want meat in it, or egg whites and avocados, like your sister?”

“Meat, please.”

“Okay,” I said, smiling at him. He looked really good in only a towel. It hugged his beautiful round ass, and I had a hard time turning away from him.

“You made coffee too?”

I grinned at him, and he crossed the floor, walking right up in front of me and putting his hands on my hips.

“Did you know when you smile, your whole face lights up?”

No, I did not know, because that was not my default. I glanced over his shoulder at his mother and sister, both leaning forward, chins resting on their hands, elbows on the counter, smiling, and then returned my gaze to his. “I don’t normally do that.”

“What? Smile?”

Quick nod from me.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” he said gruffly, leaning in. “You should smile all the time.”

I shouldn’t have kissed him there, in front of his family, because it would send the wrong signal, but he expected the closeness, the caring, the intimacy with his lover, and I would not disappoint him. In fact, the man brought out every protective instinct in me. Not to mention that there were marks on him that I’d put there with my teeth, and stubble burn because I hadn’t shaved before we wound up in bed, and some lovely hickeys on his abdomen. I was more restrained than that most of the time, took what I wanted and left. But Dallas aroused the need in me to let others know that he was claimed. Even as I brushed my mouth over his, I found it impossible not to press my hand to the small of his back and pull him close to me.

If we were alone, I would have dropped to my knees right there and worked fingers into his ass as I blew him, but since we had an audience, I let him go and told him to change so he could eat.

His eyes drifted open, and he turned and walked away from me, back toward the hall. His sister and mother watched him until he went around the corner and then swiveled back to face me. I took an involuntary step back because they both looked a bit predatory all of a sudden.

“Where do you live?” Jackie asked me, her tone not quite sharp, but not as friendly as it had been moments before.