His theories are correct more than they’re not. I trust his instincts, so it looks like we’re looking for someone else. Someone clever enough to frame an innocent for his crimes. “Six gave us access to the emails and correspondence at the real estate agency Veronica worked for. Let’s sift through those and see if anything jumps out at us.” I lift my hand, and Kendrick anticipates what I want, taking hold of it, tangling our fingers together. He absently plays with my ring finger, his calloused palm pressed to my own. “Maverick messaged me back, saying that the body is ready for us to look at whenever we want; he’ll be around the place until six-eleven tonight.”
Kendrick’s caresses pause, and a little growl erupts from my chest. He starts back up again without comment and says, “That’s oddly specific.”
“That’s Maverick.”
“We need to ask the neighbour that found her a few questions as well, and the two cops that were called to the scene.”
We should write a list. Soon. He’s still gliding his fingers through my hair, and I want to enjoy it for a few minutes more. I like the feel of his hands on me. I like everything about him. No, that doesn’t adequately describe any of it. Iloveeverything about him. He’s the other half of my soul. Just because my dick stays soft when he touches me doesn’t mean that’s any less true. There’s nothing platonic in the way I feel about him. I don’t need to want to have sex with him to validate my feelings orprovethem.
“Spence?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t fall asleep.”
My lips twitch into a lazy smile, eyes staying closed. They’re too heavy to open right now. Call back in five to ten businessdays. “I’m not falling asleep,” I mumble. So what if I am? He’s comfortable, and he’s stroking my hair. I’m only human, and he better not stop.
He indulges me for a few minutes, an arm sliding around me to keep me secure. Fuck, he’s so snuggly and warm. A quick nap couldn’t hurt, right?
Unfortunately, he eventually coaxes me up and out of my seat. I stretch with a groan crossed with a growl. How dare he disturb me?
“We’ll stop by the funeral home, and then we’ll pick up some lunch before we come back here and sift through the emails.”
It’s a solid plan. I love everything about the plan, except for the part where we have to leave and go places, and where I’m not getting cuddles. I’m not in the mood today. I want to drag him home, lie with him on the couch, and eat the rest of our cold leftover pizza together. Do we have leftover pizza? I can’t be a hundred percent sure. Doesn’t matter. We can get pizza and have it fresh tonight and then have the leftoverstomorrow.We’ll order extra to make sure thereareleftovers. Forward thinking; a beautiful skill. One I appreciate, in myself and in others.
He keeps sneaking glances at me as we grab what we need and head out. I can’t take much of that without bursting. “What?” I say, twisting to halt him in the hallway.
“Nothing.”
“Right. Try again.” I know I didn’t spill anything on my face, because we weren’t eating anything. Did he leave a mark? No, he wasn’t kissing my face. A mark from leaning on him? One in the shape of a dick? I tilt my head, cataloguing his white dress shirt and jacket. There isn’t anything that could make that shape. I don’tthink. I was never very good at shadow puppets. How someone can make a frog from their fingers is beyond me.
Six stalks out of his office and stops short, blinking at me. “Nice glasses,” he says, with a low whistle. “When’d you get those?”
Shit.Fuck. I turn an accusatory look at Kendrick. “You could have said something.”
“I like how you look in them,” he says unapologetically.
“Me too,” Six agrees. “You clean up nice, man.”
“Fuck both of you.” I’m only leaving them on because Kendrick likes them, and that’s it. I don’t need them. And they’re only for reading anyway. Idon’tneed them for driving. Or anything else. A pointless accessory. One that’s cosmetic only, and for Kendrick’s pleasure.
“I’m driving,” I throw over my shoulder.
Chapter seven
Spencer
There’s a personal carpark behind the funeral home, for staff only, gated and hidden from the rest of the world. The high security has nothing to do with their regular clientele and everything to do with people like us. A lot of undocumented bodies get passed through here. Those that deserve to be there, some that don’t. None of the jobs we do make the news. Quick, quiet, and discreet. The whole point of our team is to do what no one else can, go where no one has access, and to get it done without fuss and without revealing ourselves to the world. Sanctioned monsters that have the right to do whatever needs to be done without red tape weighing us down. Justice has a lot of different faces.
Maverick Burke has run the place for six years now, ever since his father, Trevor, retired. A family business, in more than one way. Trevor’s someone I’ve known my entire life and one who knows as many secrets about me as Kendrick does. The fatherI’d never had and the only reason I’m here today. Maverick, his sister, Abigail, and I all grew up together, and we were introduced to this world of shadows at the same time. I watched Hunter and his brother working long before they saw me.
Kendrick flicks his door open and drops a foot out before turning back to me. “Alright?”
“Do you think Six is hot?” I ask, instead of getting out.
“What?”
I know he heard me, but I repeat it anyway. “Do you think Six is hot?”
