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But as he watched Bailey using the coffee maker from hell, those words seemed far less daunting, far less foreign to Henri now. For that reason, he planted his ass on the bench seat of the breakfast nook.
Bailey moved with a kind of grace that you didn’t expect for such a built guy. His footing was sure and steady and his movements light and fast, but that made more sense now after Henri learned that Bailey boxed in his spare time.
“Was your coffee okay the way I made it the other day?” Bailey glanced over, and it took Henri a second to remember when he was talking about. Ah yes, the morning after his drunken Victor celebration. Wow, he was really making some good impressions here.
“Yeah. That was probably the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had.”
That shy smile of Bailey’s returned, and Henri figured he’d definitely made an impression on Bailey one way or another. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure he didn’t fuck things up.
“Good to know. I’m nearly done here. Just a couple more minutes. Would you like something to eat? I have cereal. Toast? I could make you a sandwich—”
“Bailey?” Henri interrupted, impatient to get to the talking part so he could work out what kind of damage control was needed.
“Yeah?”
“The coffee’s fine. You just get what you need. Don’t worry about me.”
Bailey chewed on his lower lip and nodded, then he went about finishing up their drinks and popping two slices of bread in the toaster. Once he’d placed some butter and jam on the table and grabbed a knife and plate, Bailey finally settled into the breakfast nook opposite Henri.
When their knees bumped up against one another, Bailey shifted on his seat.
“Sorry,” he said, but Henri didn’t want an apology, and stretched his legs out on either side of Bailey’s and squeezed them together.
“I’m not. I’m kind of getting used to tangling with you in this kitchen.”
Bailey eyed him as he reached for his coffee cup. “And that doesn’t bother you?”
“What?”
“Being entangled with someone.”
Henri thought about that for a second as Bailey took a sip from his mug. “Not just someone, you. And no, it doesn’t bother me. If it did, I wouldn’t be here.”
“You know, I’m starting to believe you mean that.”
Thank God, because of all the things Henri was guilty of—and there were many—lying to Bailey wasn’t one of them.
“Good. So, go on then, officer. Ask whatever it is you wanna ask. I promise to answer with nothing but the truth.” Henri drew an X over his chest. “Cross my heart.”
Chapter Four
CONFESSION
I want to know more about him,
and I want him to want to tell me.
THE RICH AROMA from the freshly ground coffee wafted out of the steaming mug in Bailey’s hands as he stared at Henri. Up until now, he’d always thought the eat-in kitchenette area a decent size for at least four people to sit in. But Bailey was more than happy to note that it actually depended on who was sitting in the opposite seat.
With Henri’s long legs wrapped around his under the table, and their arms resting atop the polished wood, if Bailey let go of his mug and reached out just a little, their fingers would also touch, connecting them again in all the important ways. But somehow, Bailey got the impression that while Henri was here and willing to talk, there were barriers still in place, ones Bailey was going to have to navigate carefully.
“This isn’t an interrogation.” Bailey didn’t want Henri thinking he had to answer. He wanted Henri to want to answer. Wanted him to want to share things and understand that he was able to without judgment.
“I know. I’ve been through enough of those to recognize the difference.” Bailey chuckled, and Henri said, “What?”
“Nothing,” Bailey said, and shook his head.
Henri sat back and eyed him closely, dark eyes glittering. “Just for the record, that didn’t sound very truthful.”
Caught breaking his own rule, Bailey said, “There is no record because this isn’t anything official. We’re just talking.”
“You’re right, so let’s talk. Your brother—”
Bailey groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry for the way he acted this morning. He—”
“Hates me? I know.” Henri shrugged. “We have a…mutual but contentious arrangement. One that helps him, and, well, it kept me out of trouble.”
Bailey reached for the butter knife and spread a thin layer of the golden stuff on his toast, his mind still trying to wrap itself around the fact that Henri and Sean knew one another. But with every passing minute, it became increasingly obvious that they had for some time now, which made an irrational sense of jealousy build up inside Bailey.
“You’re awfully quiet over there.”
Bailey refocused and reached for the strawberry jam. “Just thinking.”
“I thought you were going to ask questions. Did you change your mind?”
