I hear Jana’s voice greeting the newcomer, but I don’t look up until I hear the kitchen door pushed open and Holden’s voice calling, “Ames? Where are you?”
“Playing hide-and-seek,” I say drily. “Bet you can’t find me.”
Holden appears in the doorway to my office a second later in his sheriff’s uniform. His hair—a little lighter than mine and usually so Ken-doll perfect—is now a mass of windblown cowlicks. Coupled with his smooth cheeks and cute freckled nose, the hair makes him look about fourteen—likehe’s the baby Axford, not me—which is, of course, why he’s usually so vain about it. Gotta look the part of the competent, in-charge sheriff at all times.
Ordinarily, I’d grab my camera to capture how unserious he looks and send it to the family chat, but tonight, I can’t be bothered.
“You found me after all.” I lean back in my chair. “Must be all that fancy training you got at policeman summer camp.”
Holden deposits himself in the straight-backed chair on the other side of my desk and slides down so he can stretch out his long legs. “Don’t give me shit right now. I just worked a ten-hour shift that ended with Maryanne Kealy claiming an empty LaCroix box ‘doing thirty miles an hour’ slammed into her windshield and caused her to mow down all the Easter decorations in the Beechams’ front yard.”
“Not Maeve Beecham’s prized bunnies!” I gasp in mock horror. “The ones she made out of… wine crates, was it? And named after the characters fromLittle Women?”
“Flattened like roadkill,” he deadpans. “Even little Beth.”
I laugh out loud. “Damn. Why is it always poor Beth?”
“Fuck Beth. Save your sympathy for poorme,” Holden says, aggrieved. “Ms. Kealy would like me to find the origin of the LaCroix box to prove the incident wasn’t her fault. ‘Get some fingerprints off it,like on TV,’she says. Imagine me spending an hour of my life trying to explain that this isn’t CSI: Winsome.”
“So naturally, you came right here after that because I’m your favorite brother, and the very sight of me cheers you immeasurably.” I nod. “That tracks.”
Holden flashes me big, innocent eyes. “Youaremy favorite brother, Ames. My very, very favorite. Ignore anything Beckett or True might say to the contrary. And it has nothing to do with you being the very best chef in the whole wide world, or the way that my stomach is currently digesting itself because it’s so empty. It’s because you’re generous. And loving. And if it just so happens that making food isyourlove language, and eating food ismine… well, that just shows why we get along so well.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re so full of shit.” But I stand and wave him toward the kitchen anyway, since fuck knows I wasn’t being productive in here. “Come on and I’ll make you something. You can keep me company.”
“What a wonderful idea that I absolutely did not have myself,” Holden says as he pushes to his feet. He towers over me, which is wildly annoying… and would be more annoying still if he didn’t also tower over our older brothers.
Just as we’re about to leave the office, I turn back and grab my phone from my desk, jamming it into my pocket.
“Expecting an important message?” Holden bats his eyelashes. “Perhaps from a certain adorkable science teacher?”
My cheeks heat. “If you must know, I’m on call tonight. We’re always supposed to have a senior person around, just in case, but Robbie’s busy tonight, and Hugh’s been down with the flu for nearly a week, so I’ve been temporarily upgraded.”
“Ah. What’s Robbie up to?”
“Couldn’t tell you,” I lie.
We head into the kitchen. The dinner rush tonight wasn’t much of a rush since it’s a cold and blustery Wednesday, so Jana’s taking care of the dining room, and I sent Xenia home early. Since we’re closing up in a few minutes, Rocco’s already got his station clean and tomorrow’s prep work done.
“Sheriff Axford,” Rocco greets Holden with excessive formality and the kind of flirty, knowing look that says my brother and my cook have seen each other naked.
“Chef Reyes,” Holden says in exactly the same tone.
“Gross,” I mutter to no one in particular.
“Huh?” Rocco blinks away from Holden and gives me a polite frown.
“Nothing. You can leave whenever you’re ready, Rocco.” I pat his shoulder. “And tell Jana to lock up on your way out, would you? I think we’re done for tonight.”
“You sure, boss?” Rocco asks as I pull my apron from the hook where I left it earlier. “I can stay. I wouldn’t mind… making Sheriff Axford something.”
I snort. “I’m sure you wouldn’t. But, see, I’m the sheriff’s very favorite brother—feel free to tell the others—andfood is my love language, so I’m afraid it’s got to be me.” I shake my fist at the ceiling. “Damn it all.”
Rocco laughs, and after another secret smile at Holden, he grabs his coat and leaves.
“I never thought I’d see the day, Ames Axford,” Holden says with a sad, accusatory headshake once we’re alone. “You’re a cockblocker.”
“Am not.” I roll my eyes as I take stock of tonight’s leftovers. “Roast beef sandwich? Pesto pasta? Avgolemono soup?”
