Solene woke to a sunny morning,light streaming through the slats in the window blinds. She smelled coffee and heard Deacon talking to someone in another room.
After a quick trip to the bathroom and a chance to don her bra once more, she joined him in the kitchen. He had on jeans and a dark sweatshirt and spoke to someone on his cellphone.
“Okay. Yeah. I’ll let her know. Keep me posted. I’ll get started right away on my contacts.” He hung up as Solene entered. “Hey sweetcheeks. How are you feeling?”
His snarky comment relieved her. Good. She’d been worried he’d act weird or patronizing about offering comfort the night before.
“I’m good, honeybun. How about some coffee?”
“Black with a hint of cream. Here you go.” He handed her an already prepared mug. “I heard you moving in the other room and figured you’d want some.”
“Thanks.” She took a sip and grimaced. “Or not.”
“Sorry. It’s powdered creamer and shit coffee. Everything we have is either powdered, dehydrated, or canned.”
“I’m not complaining.” It tasted awful. “Just waking up.”
“Uh-huh. Even I know you’re not exactly a morning person.”
“Addy is. It’s so annoying.”
“So is Noel. No wonder they’re so cute together.” They shared a grin.
“Right. Now what’s on for today?” she asked after she could reasonably keep the death java down.
“Today we regroup, sit tight, and try to figure out who hacked your security and who’s behind this whole mess. And while we’re fishing, maybe look into that code on Little Dee’s locket again. It’s been driving me crazy.”
She nodded. “That’s what you guys have been trying to figure out since you first got here.”
“I know.” He groaned. “It’s a stupid locket. I should have cracked the code weeks ago. But eat first. Then we’ll get down and dirty with research. Sit and I’ll make you breakfast.”
“You like cooking, don’t you?”
“I told you I did.”
“Yeah, but that’s with fresh ingredients for your snooty taste buds. Let’s see what you can do with this stuff.” She glanced at her coffee. “Because if the creamer is this bad, I can only imagine what powdered eggs and canned ham might be like.”
The answer—like heaven.
Half an hour later, she sat stuffed, sipping at her coffee that no longer tasted terrible. “I’ll admit it. I’m shocked at how good you are behind the stove.”
He chuckled. “Don’t be so surprised. I’m as talented with a spatula as I am with my tongue.” He wiggled his brows, and she fought a laugh. “I’m not just skilled at throwing knives and making love.”
“Here we go. I was waiting for your ego to get back.” He made it difficult not to laugh with him, especially with the twinkle in his eyes.
“I tell you what. Just for you, next time I’ll cook shirtless. Yes, the danger of splattering grease is real, but for you, I’ll forego clothing.”
“Stop, Casanova. You’re making it too tempting to resist you,” she deadpanned.
“Yes, yes, I know. First, it’s lust, then love, then a never-ending drone of tears as you pine for me.”
“You really do have a way with words.” She openly grinned now.
“Yes, I do. Now, on to more serious topics.”
“The locket?”
“No, who’s doing dishes. I cooked, so…”
