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He looked back to Hollis. How could the cop have not looked over Andrei if he were gay? The bodyguard stood quietly watching from the kitchen, his elegant features composed, his silky hair back in a short tail on his neck. Hollis had barely nodded at Andrei. How could anyone look at the bodyguard and not stare?
He had to pull his gaze from Andrei as he slipped away to the guest room to deposit his bag and locked his eyes on Banner, who looked only slightly more composed. Fucker was still staring at Ian like he was picturing him naked.
Ian, who was impeccably dressed as usual in a soft beige mock turtleneck and formfitting brown slacks, set the bags on the table and cleared his throat. “I brought several things.”
“We still have food you sent with Snow from last night. You’re spoiling me.”
The smile that Ian gave him was his favorite. Exactly the first one he’d seen years ago when they’d met. Shy and so endearing it still made Lucas want to wrap him up and keep him safe from the world. That smile had even melted Snow.
The doc would hate the way Banner was looking at their friend.
“Melissa mentioned that she was dropping some things off for Andrei, so I thought I’d tag along.” Ian walked toward the detective, his hand out. “Hi. I’m Ian Pierce.”
“I wouldn’t shake his hand,” Lucas said, butting in. “Germs.” Lucas walked over and wrapped a protective arm around Ian’s slender shoulders, gathering him close.
Banner’s nod was interrupted by another cough. He covered his mouth and rose from the sofa so he could step back from Ian as if he didn’t want his germs anywhere near the pretty man.
This nudged Banner up a notch in Lucas’s eyes. Just a nudge. The way those blue eyes ran over Ian still bothered him and the cop wasn’t being that blatant about it. But if Lucas recognized anything, it was lust. Even when that lust was tempered with the misery of a cold.
Ian’s expression softened as soon as he realized the detective was ill and he hurried back to the bags. “I have just the thing for that cold.” He pulled out a container. “There’s enough paella for everyone else, but I brought a container of avgolemono soup in case the paella was too much for Lucas. It’s warm and comforting, has chicken, rice, lemon, egg and some fresh spices. Oh, and it’s creamy but has no other dairy products in it so it won’t make your cold worse.” He walked to Banner and handed him the container along with that smile.
And it did what it had done to the rest of them. Banner took the container in his big hands, his gaze not leaving Ian’s mouth. He still didn’t say anything. Lucas hoped the sun streaming in from the windows was baking the cop in that leather coat and that’s why sweat had popped up on his forehead.
Sarah snorted, breaking the tension in the room. “That soup is one of the reasons I live and you want to waste it on the cop?”
Ian shot her a frown and her mouth snapped shut.
Lucas had to work to keep from laughing when Sarah didn’t respond. Ian had that effect on most everyone and even his shark-like lawyer seemed to have a hard time mouthing off to him. There was only one man Lucas knew who hadn’t felt protective and loving toward the slight, young man. And just the thought of that evil monster reminded him why a scruffy big, street-hardened guy like Hollis Banner had no business looking at Ian like he’d rather eat him than the soup. And that soup made his mouth water.
Lucas did love Ian’s avgolemono.
Banner cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He cradled the container to his chest.
Before Lucas could bark at the detective, Melissa stepped in front of him, her gentle hands cupping his face, turning it left and then right to look him over. “Oh, honey,” she said in her smooth southern accent that wrapped around him like a warm blanket. “You look horrible. Who’s going to fuck you now?”
“Thanks.” His lips twitched against a laugh. Much like her husband, there was no filter between her brain and her mouth, resulting in the most disturbing things crossing her bow-like lips. And he absolutely adored her for it.
“I guess you could always aim for a pity fuck but I really didn’t think men went in for that rough and tumble look.”
“Melissa, darling, how does your husband put up with that sharp tongue of yours?”
She flashed him a wicked grin, dropping her hands down to his waist. “My husband has learned to keep my sharp tongue busy.”
Lucas bit his bottom lip. There was no reason to pursue that line of thought. “What did you pack for my new best friend?”
