Page 22 of Dark ’N’ Deadly

“You’re welcome.” He watched her leave, not moving until he heard her bedroom door close.

Now, it was his turn to glance at the clock. It really was late, and it surprised him that they’d been talking for over an hour. Not that talking with a woman over dinner was bizarre or anything. He’d taken lots of women on dinner dates, but not once in his own home. Yet here he was, cleaning up after the dinner she’d cooked for him.

Twenty minutes later, he turned the lights out in the kitchen, satisfied that every surface, including the cooktop, the counters, and the table, was spotless. Not wanting to wake Jesse, whose room was at the top of the stairs, he leaned down and whispered to his snoring dog. “Tiger.” Tiger didn’t wake, but his legs began twitching, as if he was running in his sleep.

Eric made a hmmphing sound in the back of his throat. Any other night, he’d have shouted at Tiger to get his furry butt upstairs. Funny how Tess and her brother had been staying with him for only a few hours, and already he was changing his habits to accommodate their needs. Surprisingly, it didn’t bother him. More shocking was that their presence in his personal space wasn’t freaking him out the way he’d anticipated.

Gently, he nudged Tiger’s belly with his bare foot.

His dog bolted to his feet, uttering a gruff snort. He yawned then arched his back as he stretched. Eric patted Tiger’s head, then led the way upstairs, turning off the downstairs lights.

After they’d passed Jesse’s door, he touched his fingers to one of the framed photos on the wall, the one of him and his three friends. Someone had snapped it at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center. Years had passed, yet he still struggled with the guilt that was as raw as if the explosion had happened only yesterday.

Because they’re dead and I’m not.

“I’ll get him, guys,” he whispered. “I’m so close I can taste it.”

I swear I’ll make him pay for what he’s done.

Chapter Seven

Eric woke in a cold sweat. He’d been having a nightmare, one in which he was reliving the very moment his friends died. Not surprising, really, given what he suspected was going on with those drums.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he threw the sheet off his damp body and sat on the edge of the bed. Shouting came from somewhere in the house, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.

His bedroom door was open. Fresh scratch marks gouged the paint by the knob. More shouting, only it wasn’t fighting. It was laughter, and music, and pots banging and clattering in the kitchen. Holy hell, what have I gotten myself into?

Groaning, he pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to rub away the murky cloud that had parked itself front and center in his brain. After getting into bed, sleep hadn’t come, so he’d stayed up late and hashed out a draft ops plan for the controlled delivery on Monday. His body craved more sleep.

Tess’s high-pitched, bubbly voice somehow managed to climb the stairs, float into his room, and hit him upside the head. The music and pot-banging intensified.

So much for peace and quiet.

Pushing from the bed, he grimaced and began his ritual morning stretch. Achy joints popped. Tight muscles and tendons screamed in protest as they always did. Cutting his stretch short, he stalked to the door, about to head downstairs, but stopped. He’d forgotten he was butt-ass naked. That was how he’d slept since the day he’d moved out of his parents’ home. Initially, it had started out as an act of defiance that would have driven his straight-laced, by-the-book parents up the wall. Later, he’d come to love the feel of cool cotton sheets on his bare skin. Guess he’d also have to forgo drinking his first cup of coffee wearing nothing but a smile.

He grabbed a pair of black sweats draped over a chair and shoved his legs into them. In the hallway, he stopped at Tess’s bedroom. As promised, she’d kept the door closed. On a hunch, he eased it open and—

Instant headache.

While he’d been sleeping, Typhoon Tess had blown through the room. Yesterday’s brightly colored clothes hung off the chaise lounge. More clothes were draped over the bed, some littering the floor. Through the open bathroom door, he glimpsed the counter littered with jars and tubes of all shapes and sizes.

Fucking. Chaos. How the hell did all that shit fit into one little bag?

Shaking his head, he shut the door and padded down the stairs. With every step, the fracas grew louder, threatening to annihilate what was left of his sanity. He paused at the kitchen doorway.

Tess and Jesse had their backs to him, her arm around her brother’s waist and her brother’s around her shoulder. They were bumping hips and singing along to Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” blaring from a cell phone perched on the kitchen table. It was a song his friend, Nick, loved to play on the piano.

With each clash of their hips, his gaze was drawn to Tess’s khaki shorts and the sleekest, smoothest, prettiest sun-kissed legs he’d ever seen. A snug green tank top that he guessed would match her eyes perfectly contrasted with the orange, red, and yellow scarf drawn through her belt loops. As she danced and swayed, sunlight pouring through the window glinted off the purple polish on her toes and fingers, and the long, beaded earrings.

Slurping drew his attention to the kitchen floor by the cooktop. Tiger eagerly licked up what looked like a mixture of scrambled eggs and melted cheddar that had fallen onto his once-clean floor. He opened his mouth, about to say something along the lines of what the hell?, but stopped and instead crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb.

“Sweet Caroline, good times never seemed so good,” they shouted so loudly he cringed, although in reality they were pretty good at holding a tune, and he was… What?

Envious.

They were having fun, something he and his sister had never been able to do as kids. There’d never been music or laughter in his family’s kitchen. If he and Maggie had ever been caught doing the karaoke thing, they would have gotten their asses paddled so hard they wouldn’t have been able to sit for a week.

Excited by all the noise, Tiger barked, insinuating himself between Tess’s and Jesse’s legs. She turned to give the dog a pat on his head when she caught sight of Eric. Her eyes went wide, confirming his thoughts on the color of her shirt, then she grabbed the phone and turned off the music.