Oliver scoffed. “And make me have my morning brew with Mark ‘the moron’ Matthews? I don’t think so, pal. Budge up.”
Blake scowled as Oliver tapped his shoulder. “Oliver, just because you’re a sergeant now?—”
“Ahh, that’s better,” Oliver said, settling himself on the bench next to Blake. “Ready to be dazzled by my morning briefing?”
Sighing, Blake tipped his head back against the wall. “Yes, I’m sure it’s going to be riveting.”
“It is. I take my role as Family Liaison Officer very seriously.”
The corner of Blake’s mouth tipped up. “You didn’t even want the position. I believe you called us a bunch of useless twats when you were given the news.”
Oliver covered his chest, looking mildly offended. “That’s not true. Who told you that?”
“Your husband.”
Oliver’s mouth popped open. “Lucas would never grass on me.”
Blake’s small smile became a smirk. “If you say so, DS White.”
Oliver huffed, pulled out his phone and began texting furiously. After a minute or so he gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Bastard,” he muttered, and put the phone away. “Anyway, tell your team not to ask any stupid questions. It’s Alfie’s first parents’ evening tonight and I can’t be late.”
Blake nodded. “How is he?”
“Good. We’re having a bit of an issue with speech regression, but…” Oliver shrugged and cracked his fingers. “We’re working on it.”
“And Mina?”
Oliver grinned. “She’s crazy. The other day she tried to shift on her own. Failed miserably, of course, so decided to roll all the way from the living room to the kitchen, took a bath in Sandy’s water bowl then tried to escape through the cat flap. It’s a good job I was watching her, because I think she’d have done it too.”
“An unruly risk-taker? I wonder who she takes after,” Blake replied, cocking an eyebrow.
Oliver slapped Blake’s knee. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But anyway, what about you? How’s everyone on Bell Lane?”
Blake nodded, taking another sip of his drink.
“Still living next to that crazy old alpha?”
“Val. Yeah, she’s still going.” His mouth pulled into a scowl. “And the fucking parrot.”
“And Pem? How’s he settled in?”
Blake stiffened, looking down at his lap. “Good,” he said, picking at a piece of lint on his trousers.
Oliver narrowed his eyes. “Just good? Where is he, anyway? I haven’t seen him today.”
“He’s… off, for the next few days.”
Oliver gave a knowing look. “I see. Is that why you’ve got a face like thunder?”
“I do not.”
“You do. I thought I was going to have to take out a restraining order on the photocopier’s behalf.”
Blake ran his tongue over his teeth. “There was a paper jam. I un-jammed it.”
“By ripping out the feed wheel?”
“Are you an expert on photocopiers?”
