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“She’s not my type.”
I recoil, insulted. “What the hell do you mean, she’s not your type?”
“I prefer redheads.”
A choking sound comes from across the room, and I look back to see Brad juggling the coffee cup, the hot liquid all over his hand. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
I roll my eyes and get back to Benson.
“Like I said, she’s beautiful, b—” He finally registers the crazy in my eyes. “I’ll shut up.”
“I highly recommend it,” Brad whispers menacingly from behind. “Can we get home now?”
“You in a rush?” James asks.
“Yes,” he grunts, stomping out.
James shrugs. It’s probably best Brad’s in a bad mood. I’d hate for him to be in a good one and then have to ruin it with the news I’m about to give him.
36
ROSE
* * *
I walk down the stairs with Maggie in my arms, feeling a lot fresher than I have for days. The post-baby high was certainly an adrenaline rush keeping me sane and human for a while. The adrenaline has worn off. I’m exhausted. Danny’s exhausted. Yet last night, our daughter slept for a few hours . . . in a row. It’s insane what a few hours of sleep can do.
As I reach the bottom, the front door opens and Leon walks in, a bag in his hands. “Mrs. B,” he chimes, dropping the bag and coming straight at me. “Aww, she’s getting chubby.”
“What are you doing here?”
He steps back. His chin raises. “I’m fulfilling the request of one of the bosses.”
“Which one?”
“Oh come on, Rose, don’t do this to me.” He grabs the bag and heads for the kitchen. “Any breakfast on offer?”
I follow him, placing Maggie in her crib, watching as Leon dives into the pancakes piled on the island. Esther smiles, offering him syrup and bacon too. “These are so good,” he says, his mouth full.
“Have you got the munchies?” Beau asks as I join her at the island.
He chuckles, powering his way through the pancakes. Leon spends half his life high. But he’s a good kid.
“Hey,” she says. “Fury mentioned Pearl may have had a panic attack yesterday after we left them at the café.”
“She did? She seemed fine.”
“She did,” Beau muses. “But Fury described all the signs, and . . . well, I know.” She shrugs, and I reach for her hand. It’s been a while since Beau has been captured by an attack. I hope those days are long gone for her. “She didn’t want Fury to tell us, so”—her finger meets her lip—“let’s just keep an eye on her.”
“Okay.” I frown at Leon, prompting Beau to too.
“Jesus, Leon,” she says. “No one is stealing the pancakes.”
He suddenly straightens, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Morning,” he mumbles, swallowing.
Pearl wanders in, taking a stool on the other side of the island. “Morning,” she says quietly.
“Hey.” Leon gives her a goofy smile. “You look nice today.”
