Picking up the recipe book, I tuck it under my arm and carry it into the kitchen where it belongs.
CHAPTER TEN
OTIS.
When I stride into the house, I find Clem standing on a stool in the kitchen, rearranging the jars in my spice rack.
She’s on tippy toes, wearing sneakers and the tightest little leggings you can imagine, a cropped t-shirt exposing the peachy human skin at her waist. I feel my fingertips tingle with the longing to run them over her midriff, to feel how soft her skin is, then slide lower, under the waistband until they reach her human folds, feeling for her wetness and knowing that she wants what I want.
How fucking inappropriate.
I give a small cough, and she turns around and smiles at me.
“Oh hullo. You have so many spices, most of which I’ve never seen before,” she chirps.
“I told you not to tidy the kitchen,” I respond gruffly, far more embarrassed by the X-rated thoughts in my head than by my abject disorganization.
“Sorry.” She looks unfazed, but steps down off the stool.
“I’d sorted everything in your office, so I thought I’d start on these shelves.”
I manage a smile. Clem is here to help me, and all I’m being is churlish, to hide the way my body is reacting to her presence. It’s not her fault that my lust is making me behave like an asshole.
“Apologies. Thank you,” I mumble. “And yes, we do have quite a few spices and condiments here in the Labyrinth that never make their way to Sparkle.”
“Like those tantarillo pickles last night in my burger. They were delish.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “And grappa?”
“I can’t say the same for the grappa.” She laughs. “How was your morning?”
I sigh, removing my hat and slinging it on the table, before ruffling my hair with a big green hand.
“Busy. But that’s the norm, we don’t have enough staff. We’re relying on volunteers at present.”
“I’ve organized all your sheriff documents into one folder, so that should help. Come and look at your office now.”
I follow her down the hallway.
My jaw drops at the sight that greets me. My office is transformed. Neatly labelled files are stacked on my desk, its surface now visible. She’s brought over a side table and placed the computers on them, with their cords. She’s even tidied the messy bookcase.
“I’m impressed. Thank you.”
“Will you be able to find anything now?” She cocks her head.
“Probably not, but I can ask you until I get used to the new system.”
“Promise you won’t just shift it back to how it was before?”
“I promise.” I grin sheepishly. “In my head, everything’s organized. I have a supersonic filing system up here.” I tap the top of my head with a finger.
“Yeah, I believe you—though many wouldn’t,” she teases.
My grin stretches. I like Clem’s gentle banter. People don’t tend to be light-hearted with me, maybe because I’m so fucking serious all the time. But I did used to enjoy joking around, way back when.
“Anyway,” she says, “come back to the kitchen, I’ll make us a pot of tea. I found some interesting ones when Jax came over.”
“So Jax visited, did he?”
