She turned on her heel and went back to work. Marlow looked around to see if anyone else looked like they’d take the food off his hands. He got an apologetic shrug from the dishwasher, elbow-deep in the sink, but that was it.
Department policy was to accept unsolicited gifts under twenty bucks—it was a cultural thing in a lot of places, and refusal could offend—and then fill in the requisite forms in triplicate back in the office.
Well, at least he wouldn’t have to stop for lunch.
Marlow offered a clumsy “Thank you” to the kitchen and ducked out. He held the parcel in one hand as he cut through the tables in the restaurant. The bells over the door rattled as he let himself out into the muggy, salt-sharp air on the street.
He unwrapped the fish cakes and took a bite out of one as he walked back to where he’d parked the car. Halfway there, mouth full of cheese, potato, and fish, someone strode out of a building and directly into his path.
Marlow tried to dodge back out of the way and stepped on the man’s foot instead. He overcorrected and stumbled.
“Christ,” the man growled as he grabbed Marlow’s arm. “Watch where you’re going—”
Cade broke off mid-sentence and narrowed his eyes as he stared at Marlow. His eyes were still wolf-bright, the color of clear amber, even nearly a week after the wolf was out.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice abruptly cold instead of rough.
Marlow abruptly, unexpectedly, wanted to say the right thing. It wouldn’t even be that hard. People knew he was laconic, and Cade wouldn’t expect poetry. It just had to make the corner of Cade’s mouth twitch with reluctant appreciation and remind him that, despite what he liked to believe, Marlow wasn’t an idiot.
Unfortunately, his mouth was full of fish cake and grease. He had a feeling that the ‘‘right thing to say” didn’t include flaked haddock.
Marlow chewed twice and then swallowed hard to force the food down his throat.
“Lunch?” he said.
Cade chuckled humorlessly. “Of course, what else?” he asked, the mockery dry on the edge of his words.
The tone put Marlow’s back up. Cade was the one with the problem; why should Marlow do the legwork to find out what was wrong? So he just shrugged his agreement with Cade and took another bite of his fish cake.
Cade stared at him for a moment and then snorted softly as he shook his head.
“Well,” he drawled, then tightened his grip on Marlow’s arm, “while you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful. I need some information. About Piper.”
The smart answer was “no.” It might sting to have been ghosted, but that didn’t mean it had been a bad decision. Never mind that Captain O’Hara had just told Marlow not to interfere in the case.
Instead, Marlow caved to the temptation of a little more time with Cade. It was stupid—Cade was an abrasive jerk at his best—but he felt like home. Somewhere—someone—that made your shoulders relax from being up around your ears.
“I’m on duty,” he said as he wrapped the rest of his free lunch up. “But I can give you a few minutes.”
“Lucky me,” Cade said, sarcasm thick as butter on the words, as he gestured toward his office door.
Chapter Four
“O’HARA REALLY THOUGHTI was going to do as I was told?” Cade asked. He nudged the chair out of the way with his knee and leaned one hand on the table as he pulled his emails up on the screen. Too many from various clients. “I didn’t take the man for an idiot.”
“Liar.”
He was. That didn’t mean he wanted someone to call him on it. Except Marlow’s off-hand delivery slid under Cade’s guard and caught his sense of humor. He felt his mouth try to slide into a smile and bit the inside of his cheek to stop it.
“Most people wouldn’t call me that to my face,” he said.
“I’ve only got fifteen minutes,” Marlow said. “I don’t have time to do it behind your back.”
Cade couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. The black sludge of his temper loosened its grip on him, whether he liked it or not. That was the problem. It wasn’t that hewantedMarlow, or that he’d played out the vodka-sharp kiss and what might have happened next a couple of times since the full moon. Over the years, Cade had fucked a few people he’d not piss on if they were on fire. Some of them, that was why he’d fucked them.
The thing was, helikedMarlow. The Night Shift officer was easy to be around. He was laid-back enough that Cade had to shift down a gear to spend time with him without feeling like he’d lost some sort of advantage. Even the occasional jabs of wit at Cade’s expense were unexpectedly tolerable, as much as Cade hated being the butt of the joke.
It made it hard to stay angry with him.
