“I do like women with claws.”
“Have you considered dating a cat shifter?” I managed to keep a straight face. “I hear they’re quite…”
“Feral is the word you’re looking for.” He blasted air out his nose. “I dated one when I was in high school. We thought we’d do the whole Romeo/Juliet thing. Us against the world. By the end of senior year, I was ready to fake my death.”
“That was Juliet, not Romeo.”
“I never said which of us was which.” He grinned. “I’m not the die-for-love type.”
“Who is?” I drew in a deep breath perfumed with mouthwatering food. “Fried potatoes, on the other hand, those are worth a fight to the death.”
“You can have them.” He rested a protective hand over his mountain of takeout boxes. “Now ribs…”
We debated life versus food on the way back to the Faraday and all the way up to my apartment.
I left him parked on the couch with the holy grail of remotes while I showered and changed.
When I got out, a quick ten minutes later, he was dictating an email to his mom, directions on how to use the new pressure cooker he bought her for her birthday, and I forced my heart not to melt.
“I’m starving.” I headed to the kitchen. “Let’s eat.”
The space, small as it was, felt empty without Bonnie. Maybe Ford was right. Maybe I was lonely. Or maybe it was the slight strangeness of the new items, similar to my old ones but not quite, that made the place feel less like home as I set the sewing machine on the kitchen counter to clear up the dining table.
“Are we discussing the case over lunch?” Ford made himself at home, bringing plates and glasses out of the cupboards. With so few cabinets, it didn’t take much to figure out where I kept what. “Or are you squeamish?”
“We can talk shop.” I took ice and bottled water from the fridge. “I’m good.”
After we sat down and divvied up the food, we got down to the business of eating.
“Bishop is searching through records to determine if our killer has moved into the area near Perkerson.” As I licked sauce off my fingers from the ribs, I decided I needed the name of his BBQ joint. “Bonnie was able to narrow the window of time she spent in the city before Midas found her. That helps with searching for records. Her son followed her from Mississippi, but she’s lived all over the country.”
“Still a needle in a haystack.” He slurped up a noodle. “Have you considered the time-honored tradition of using bait?”
I would be lying if I said I hadn’t considered it. “Do you think Midas would sign off on that?”
“On using a submissive woman, suffering obvious trauma, to lure out her abuser?”
“You could have just said no.”
“Ask him.” He put it mildly. “You might persuade him where others would fail.”
“You want me to present your idea to him so he growls at me and not you. That’s what I’m hearing.”
“Then you listen very well.”
“We have to do something.” I stabbed a hunk of pulled pork that melted in my mouth. “We can’t sit on our hands and wait for the next call.”
A hard knock on the door twisted my gut until I regretted stuffing my face with so much enthusiasm.
“Come in,” I yelled. “Door’s unlocked.”
Maybe it was rude, but wise people didn’t leave a gwyllgi seated at a table full of food and expect to come back to more than empty plates.
Ford cranked his head around to see who was calling on me, but he had to have known. He must have sensed it was Midas.
“I didn’t realize you had company.” Midas stood in the doorway, hand on the knob. “I can come back.”
“It’s just Ford,” I said too quickly, and regretted his flinch. “Hungry? We’ve got plenty.”
“Talk about swimming against the current,” Ford said on a sigh. “Hadley wanted to talk to you anyway.” He gave me a pointed look. “Remember?”
“I remember.” I didn’t miss the tension growing between the men. “I’ll text you when I’m ready to go.”
“I’ll be down in the lobby catching up with Roe and Giada,” Ford said. “Take your time.”
The names were unfamiliar, but it’s not like I had made an attempt to learn the pack roster. More than likely they were the two sisters who had given him their number. I warned him not to toss their note, that he would piece it back together at a low point, but men never listened.
That I found this scenario amusing told me I wasn’t serious about Ford.
Frak. Frak. Frak.
“You didn’t say if you were hungry.” I cleared Ford’s place and set another one for Midas. “Since you’re gwyllgi, I’ll assume the answer is yes.”
Midas didn’t move past the front door Ford shut behind him. “I came to apologize.”
“For the marking thing?” I waved it away. “Ford told me it was accidental.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t owe you an apology.”
“Sit.” I pulled out a chair. “Eat.”
He did as he was told, tucking a lock of golden hair behind his ear.
“You’re new to the heir gig, so I get it.” I sat back down and dumped mounds of food onto his plate when he made no move to select for himself. “There are a lot of things I’m still learning too. I’m not mad.”
He lifted his fork, studied his plate, turned it in his hand, speared the pulled pork, but still didn’t dig in.
I braced my elbow on the table then cupped my chin in my palm. “Please tell me this isn’t a caveman thing where Ford bought the food, and you can’t eat it because of man cooties or some silly thing.”
“Pack etiquette is not some silly thing.” His lips thinned. “Our instincts are what keep us alive.”
“What’s the deal with the food?”
He set down his fork. “I’m not sure.”
“I hope it’s not poisoned.” I sniffed the leftovers, praying the pixie girl didn’t take revenge on those who shunned her car services. “Ford and I ate enough to ensure we’ll both kick the bucket. Maybe even a few of them.” I shoved back from the table and opened my freezer since my fridge was empty. “I froze single servings of spaghetti last week for when I’m craving meatballs but too lazy to cook. I can heat one up for you?”
“You don’t mind?”
“Nah.” I selected one of the storage containers and popped it in the microwave. “Won’t take but a minute.” I mashed in the time. “Well, technically I guess it will take four minutes and forty-five seconds, but who’s counting?” I checked my fridge before asking about sides. “You want toast? I can do garlic butter or garlic butter and cheese?”
“Plain toast is fine.”
“You’re not putting me out.” I leaned my hip against the open door. “I offered.”
“Can I have the cheese version?”
“Sure.” I got out what I needed and set to work. “Who told you about the mark thing?”
“Mom.”