James’s dark eyes narrowed, searching. But all he said was, “I’ll get you a dozen, babe.”
Before kissing Kit again.
Rare San Corvo rain pattered against the thin windows, making the tiny kitchen seem cozier in comparison. Fascinated, Kit wiggled open a badly fitted drawer to find a set of rooster-patterned ladles and spatulas.
“These are adorable.” Kit waved a soup ladle. “There’s no way you bought this.”
“What are you talking about?” Holden seized the ladle and used it to draw Kit closer. His golden-brown eyes crinkled in a smile. “I love cock.”
Kit stared at the rooster pattern, then at Holden.
With an exaggerated sigh, Holden surrendered the ladle. “Clever boy. Mom gave them to me when I moved in. She’d had them sitting around for literal years, because my aunt—my dad’s sister, that is—gave them to her. They don’t fit Mom’s kitchen, but Mom was convinced getting rid of them would be rude. Regifting within the family is fine, apparently.”
“You know,” Darius said from the doorway. “He’s said more to you this morning than he’s said to me all week.”
Holden’s cheerful gaze didn’t deviate from Kit. “Kit wants to know me better. Communication is important for a healthy relationship.”
“If I ever have a healthy relationship, I’ll report back.” Kit replaced the ladle. “Are we packing up anything in here?”
Kit had joined Holden and Darius to pack up Holden’s apartment. Not everything, because Holden was still allegedly staying here according to his parents, his landlord, and anyone else outside the murdery inner circle. Just whatever Holden needed for a long-term stay at Darius’s place.
Bishop and Darius already combed through Holden’s apartment last week. It was a shabby but clean little space, probably in greater disarray than usual after the search. Therewere imprints on the carpet where furniture had been moved and not exactly replaced.
“We should clean out the food, but other than that, no,” Holden said. “I don’t need kitchen supplies when my roommate won’t let me use the appliances.”
Darius shrugged. “I’ve been very permissive. I let you open the fridge this morning.”
Most people probably wouldn’t see how alert Darius was right now. He appeared cool and casual. Impossibly rugged and sexy in a gray sweater, like a fucking magazine model. He even smiled sometimes, lower lip curving enticingly.
But he carried a gun beneath that touchably soft sweater, and nothing escaped his notice.
Holden, meanwhile, was a ray of sunshine. “Can I get you something to drink, darling?”
“I don’t think so,” Darius said.
Kit chewed his lip. He was kind of thirsty, but the last time he accepted a drink from Holden didn’t go well.
On the other hand, that whole abduction thingwasa huge breakthrough in their relationship…
That was the other reason Darius was here. Not just that Holden might do something stupid, but Kit might too.
“I promise I haven’t drugged the tap water,” Holden said. “I don’t even know how I would do that. I haven’t done anything to the glasses, either. How would I have anticipated you guys coming over weeks in advance?”
“That.” Darius pointed at him. “The fact that you thought of that is the entire problem.”
Kit patted Holden’s shoulder. He had to reach up. “Let’s finish up quickly, and we can get coffee on the way back to Darius’s place. My caffeine fix can wait.”
“Are you sure?” Holden reached for his phone. “I can order delivery.”
“I’m sure.” Kit moved towards the doorway and Darius. “What do you need from your bedroom?”
Holden followed in Kit’s wake, a warm, cheerful presence. “If Bishop didn’t find them, we should grab my murder archives.”
Kit stopped short. “Yourwhat?”
2
“Guess where I kept the cuffs.”
