Darla slaps both hands on the coffee table in front of her. “I need a name! I need details! I need to know who his daddy is!”
“You have been holding out on us,” Esther says while fanning herself. “How long has that been staying in your loft? And more importantly, why didn’t you tell us?”
Katherine, with her eyes glued to the stairs where he disappeared, chimes in, “He is really, really hot.” She takes in a shuddering breath, on the verge of swooning. “If I was twenty years younger, I’d climb that tree in a heartbeat.”
Darla is giving me the side eye like I’m hiding national secrets.
Marci shrugs at Katherine. “You could be like Helen and go for it anyway.”
“Oh, don’t you even start,” Helen splutters indignantly. “You’re all just jealous.”
Darla sighs, waving Helen off. They’ve had that conversation a million times before. “Okay, okay, enough distractions.” She levels me with a smile, fingers tapping together like a super villain. “Now back to the matter at hand. You and your mystery man.”
I move back to the counter, not wanting to sit through this forced debriefing. “I don’t know ladies, I’ve got a lot of work to do. Everything piled up while I was away and—”
Darla grabs my wrist mid-retreat. She’s surprisingly strong for someone who bedazzles her compression socks. “Oh no you don’t.” She tugs me right back into the center of the group. “Two weeks ago you disappeared. Now, you’re back bruised, glowing, and there’s a man who looks like that sneaking around in your loft? Sweetheart, we are not leaving here until we get answers.”
“It’s complicated,” I choke out.
Somehow that word makes them more ravenous for information.
“Complicated?” Helen asks.
“Complicated how?” Darla continues, “Complicated as in hot and heavy, or complicated as in he’s married?”
The others look on in feral interest.
“Complicated as in I don’t know exactly what we are yet. We’re taking it... slow.” I sigh and sit back down.
“Taking it slow?” Darla scoffs, sipping her tea like she can read my thoughts. “Honey, that man was looking at you like a starving wolf who just found his favorite steak.”
“I don’t think ‘taking it slow’ and ‘sleeping shirtless in your loft’ are compatible concepts, Seriph.” Marci contributes from her corner, the pragmatic one of the group.
Helen sighs dreamily from her chair.
“I asked to take it slow emotionally, not physically.” I offer.
Esther leans forward, eyes wide. “So let me get this straight, you and him are having fun while you figure it out?”
“Oh my God,” Katherine breathes out next to her.
“Basically?” I confirm.
Their reactions make me doubt that I know what I’m doing. He doesn’t want casual with me. He’s intense and intriguingand fucking irresistible. What were my reasons for taking it slow again?
Griffin struts down the stairs in his everyday clothes, holding a travel mug of coffee. He looks sinful in his tight black T-shirt and cargo pants with both his gun and his knife holstered to his side. He drops into the empty spot next to me on the couch, throwing his arm behind me and manspreading like he belongs there. He tips his head lazily.
Helen leans over to whisper to Katherine, “Dear lord, he smells good.”
Griffin leans back with a devilish smile, amused that he’s the morning entertainment. After cheerful introductions, they start firing off questions in rapid succession like they are hosting a quiz show.
“So, what are your intentions with our Seriph?” Darla starts, motherly.
“Are you from around here?” Katherine adds.
“What do you do for work?” Esther says without waiting for him to answer.
He pulls me into his side and takes a sip of his coffee, not the least bit fazed by their interrogation. For a guy who woke up and walked directly into a group of gossip hungry menopausal women, he looks surprisingly comfortable. “I hunt for a livin’.”
