“Mm.” He slides his tongue across the front of his teeth. He’s a lion, tormenting the gazelle. “Has she made a decision on the baby thing?”
“Not yet.” I spin out of his grasp and make a beeline for my bag by the door. I’ll grab a coffee from the kitchen and steal whatever is on literally anyone else’s plate if they have one. “She said she’s not rushing into it. She’s allowing herself time to process. And for Tim to process.”
“Sensible.” He drops his hands into his pockets and crosses the room in my wake. He doesn’t move fast, not even as I sweep up my bag and search its contents to make sure I have everything I need. “Makes a person wonder, doesn’t it? Christabelle has diabetes, so maybe Zora will, too. Could the same be said for Aubree?”
I whip the bedroom door open. “Aubree doesn’t have diabetes.”
“No. But she has a gift. Maybe it’s not scientific, and maybe it’s not medical or testable. Butweknow what she is, and we know—according to her—she got it from her dad. I suppose it makes sense that if she has a child—whether it’s her’s and Tim’s, or one she carries for Eli and Curtis—it may come with its own gift, too.”
“Dunno.” I release the door and head back to Archer—the hunter I’m not afraid of, the predator that’ll never hurt me—because I know this is the last taste of peace we’ll have until tonight. Stepping onto the tips of my toes and resting my hands on his shoulders, I kiss his waiting lips. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“I’ll see you tonight, okay?” I wrap my arms around his torso and crush my cheek against his chest. One last hug beforelifeintrudes. One last minute ofus. But I really do have to go, so I step back and meet his eyes. “Be safe, Detective. Maybe text me if you have the time. I was kinda lonely yesterday.”
“Sure.” He drops a kiss on my cheek. “Be good. Don’t kill anyone.”
I snort and rotate on my heels, the stark reminder of those documentary makers and camera-wielding assholes from yesterday flashing in my mind. But instead of making a promise I may have to break, I stalk through our door and move quickly toward the stairs. Down one flight,then down a couple more. I lug my heavy bag, the thick leather straps biting into my arm, and reaching the bottom, I turn right and hurry along the hall, emerging into the kitchen to find a single Malone waiting.
“I don’t know how I feel about this, Minnnka.” Cato sits at the counter with a heaped plate of bacon and eggs, toast, and mixed fruit spread out in front of him. He side-eyes me, smirking. “We came here so everyone would have more space. I get it. But you hide out in your room all damn night and come down only to make coffee before you leave again.” He straightens his back, firms his lips, and watches me do exactly as he accuses me.
I set my bag on the counter and move to the coffee machine, setting a to-go cup under the spout.
“I don’t know that the benefit of having an actual bed is worth the price of admission.” He drops his gaze and considers his meal, selecting a fat red grape and placing it on his tongue. “I miss fighting with you. And we usually only fought because I made a mess of your living room and had sex on the kitchen counter. I can’t fuck onthiscounter, cos Mary will skin me if she found out about it.”
“Maybe you could find a new hobby that doesn’t include pissing me off?” While the coffee pours, I turn and peruse his breakfast, zeroing in on a juicy slice of toast dripping in butter. I swing out with lightning-fast reflexes and steal it before he can stop me. “You call yourself an athlete, but you’re slow as hell.”
“Or maybe I let you have it, knowing that’s the only food you’ll eat until you drag your sorry ass back here tonight. I’m an unemployed bum, remember? I can make more after you leave.”
I bite the corner off and circle away from the counter, rolling my eyes at the boy who wants so badly for me to declare—loudly and obnoxiously—how loved he is. Instead, I head toward Steve’s room, making my way along a narrow hallway and stopping at an open door, only to peek in and discover the happy, dopey smile of a man quickly recovering from what would have taken his life…if not for the boy in the kitchen.
“You look good.” I lean against the doorframe and nibble on my breakfast. “Your color’s coming back.”
“Fit as a fiddle.” He tilts to the right while Mary fusses in front of him, his muddy brown stare and long, wispy white nostril hairs drawing my focus. “I reckon I could probably go for a swim today.”
“Mmhm. Try it.” I study the back of Mary’s crisp black shirt and consider… when does she rest? When does she shower and sleep and do literally anything that isn’t taking care of the Malones? “Everything good here?”
“Yes, Doctor Mayet.” Mary straightens her back and stands in front of Steve. Then, she takes his hands and brings him to his feet.No wheelchair for you, buddy. “Mr. Morris’ cardiac nurse is visiting today. In the meantime, I’m happy to report that everything I’ve observed indicates positive recovery and newfound strength. Do you need me to make you breakfast before you go to the office today?” She glances over her shoulder, entirely too professional and sweet. “I’d be happy to prepare something to take in the car if you prefer.”
“No, it’s fine. Thank you.” I study Steve’s trembling legs and the fluffy slippers on his feet. His oversized, gray cotton pants and the collared shirt with a stretched pocket hanging by his chest. “It’s not your job to feed me. It’s not your job to feed any of us.”
“I don’t mind, Doctor Mayet.” Like she’s been doing this her whole life, she turns and releases one of Steve’s hands, scooping her arm around his instead. She’s not screwing around; today marks seven days since his heart gave out, and already, she’s making him walk on his damn own. “Mr. Morris could do with something to eat, too, and you have a big day ahead of you?—”
“Really, it’s fine.” I take a bite of my stolen toast. “Cato hooked me up with the goods, and my coffee is pouring now. I just wanted to check in here to make sure everything is okay.” I meet Steve’s adoring eyes. “I’ll be gone till dinnertime, so if you need anything, speak now.”
He chuckles, dropping his gaze and staring at his first shaky step. “You’ve provided me a luxurious space to recuperate in, with chef-quality meals three times a day, a state-of-the-art heart monitoring thingy strapped to my body, a medication regime only a rocket scientist could manage, and twenty-four-hour care, all while I get to wander pretty gardens and see my favorite doctor at least twice a day… yet, you think I should ask for something more?”
“Just checking.” The beep of the coffee machine echoes along the hall, so I push off the doorframe and toss the last of my meal into my mouth. “Let me know what the cardiac nurse has to say, won’t you? I want to know everything about your recovery.”
Steve’s muddy brown eyes flicker with playfulness. “What of my privacy, Doctor Mayet?”
“Should’ve thought of that before you made medical directives that included my name.” I cross his room and step into his waiting arm, wrapping myself around him as best I can without interrupting his monitors.Then I accept his gentler-than-feathers kiss on my cheek and bathe for a moment in the loveliness of pure, uncomplicated, no-strings-attached affection.
He’s just a little old man who cares about me, with no thought at all for what he could take in return. Staying here was never on his—or my—mind. Having a Mary to aid his recovery was not something he even knew to want. This house, this room… none of this was on our radars. Not until Archer put them there.
These are just the things I can give the man who expects nothing at all.
“Be safe out there today, Miss Mayet.” He inches away, resting his hand on my arm to catch his balance before I go. “Don’t make me worry about you.”
