Tough Luck (A-List Security 1)

“See, this is where I put your lessons to work.” Danny pointed at the small table once we were both downstairs. “You sit there and try to look slightly less scowly.”

“I’m not scowly,” I protested, even though I probably was, body not exactly thrilled about having to wait even longer for its coffee.

“You are too. You’re worried about what I could burn down.” He retrieved a large skillet from the dish rack near the sink.

“Nah,” I lied. He had enough people waiting for him to screw up. He didn’t need me stealing his fun too. “Start a pot of coffee, and I’ll scowl less. You’ll do great with the food.”

“Maybe not as good as your sandwiches last night.”

“Ha.” I’d threatened him with toast but delivered bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches and a pile of vegetables that could loosely be considered salad. “You’d eat anything with melted cheese three times a day.”

“Guilty.” Moving very deliberately, he measured out coffee and water, started to turn away, then remembered the On switch right before I was about to call out a reminder. “There. That’s your coffee settled. Now for pancakes with some fruit.”

“Great choice. You’re good with fruit.”

His cheeks turned pink, exactly as I’d hoped. “This place still needs a blender. Then I could do smoothies.”

“Is that you wanting another trip to town?” Each time we ventured out was a risk, but I wasn’t opposed to an excuse to indulge some small want of his.

“Maybe. I do like getting out of the cabin. I’m not really an introvert.”

“No, no, you’re not.” I thought again of him alone in that big house, trying to manage on his own, keeping away from old habits and haunts, despite his social nature. My chest hurt, and I nearly left my seat to give him a hug. However, he was chopping a banana, and I didn’t want to distract him while he had a knife. And I wasn’t the hugging type. Except around him, I apparently was. And I needed a solution for his loneliness that didn’t involve volunteering myself for the job. “You ever think about getting a pet? I was alone a ton as a kid, what with my older sisters off and out of the house and sporadic friends, but we always had dogs running around.”

Growing up so close to a base, many of my friendships had been short-lived. But for all my mom’s considerable issues, she had a soft heart for animals, treating them way better than she did herself. And I was grateful because there had been plenty of long nights when only the dog knew how much I was struggling, and at least I’d had that much company.

“I wanted a dog.” His voice sounded extra tired. “Every year, I asked for one for my birthday, and every year, I heard how I wasn’t home enough until I finally stopped asking.”

“Danny…” Fuck it. I started to leave my chair, needing to touch him, but he waved a spoon at me.

“You can sit down. It’s okay.” He exhaled hard. “My birthdays were always a media circus anyway, staged events. It wouldn’t have been fair to a dog. And it’s silly to waste energy wishing for a lumpy homemade cake and puppy when plenty of kids would have loved to be me.”

“Plenty of kids wouldn’t know how hard you had it,” I countered.

“True.” He plunked a bowl down next to the box of pancake mix. “Do I add the eggs to the mix or the other way around?”

“Either way. I do all the wet stuff first, so I don’t forget anything, then add the dry.” I let him have his change in subject, but now I wanted Danny alone in the world even less. He didn’t need a keeper like Duncan thought, but he did need a friend. You could be that friend. An insistent prickle raced up my back, but I tried to ignore it. “And smaller pancakes are easier to flip.”

“I’ve got it,” he snapped, then softened his tone. “Sorry. It’s not your fault my childhood sucked. I don’t want to ruin breakfast with my funk.”

“You’re not. And I like this. I’m not sure when the last time was someone made me breakfast.”

“Thought you were staying with Duncan?”

I had to laugh. “Ha. Your brother runs on power bars and fancy coffee.”

“His house growing up always had housekeepers, same as mine. He probably can’t cook but won’t ever admit it,” Danny said sagely. He dropped blobs of batter on the hot skillet. “And I’ll make you breakfast any time. Your other hookups clearly weren’t appreciative enough.”

“You’re not a hookup.” I rubbed my chin. I was also a far better lover with him, and most of my hookups hadn’t gotten as far as breakfast, but I wasn’t admitting that to him. “And I’m pretty sure I should be appreciating you.”