His…meat? Indy slowly backed away from the horrible pun before it accidently detonated.
“Medium.” Indy cleared his throat then his brows shot up. “Actually, medium rare. I always say medium because it feels like the polite answer, but then I’m always slightly disappointed.”
Malik looked over his shoulder, and the corner of his mouth curved. Not a full smile, but something that got partway there, and Indy felt it land somewhere in the middle of his sternum like a warm hand pressed flat.
Pushing from the steps, Indy lowered himself into a wooden deck chair, which brought him a little closer to his mate.
“Medium rare,” Malik repeated and turned back to the grill.
“See, now you know my deepest truth,” Indy teased. “I lie about meat temperatures to seem agreeable. What does that say about me as a person?”
“That you care what people think.”
“Complete and utter lie,” Indy said in a singsong voice before pulling his knees up onto the chair, making himself smaller, which wasn’t difficult given everything in this yard seemed scaled to someone considerably larger than him. “You could’ve just told me it says I’m considerate.”
“Could have.”
“But you didn’t,” Indy huffed.
“Nope.” Malik reached for a tea towel on the side shelf, and the motion was so languid that Indy found himself mesmerized by the way his mate’s hands moved. Large hands. Careful hands, the way he’d held the box of dogs earlier. The way he’d touched Indy’s jaw in the bedroom, slow enough that there had been time to pull away.
Indy hadn’t moved a single muscle.
But ever since Malik had spoken to Grayson their interactions felt stilted. When the cheetah returned from his meeting twenty minutes later, Indy had still been sitting in the chair in the bedroom, pretending he hadn’t been listening to the low murmur of voices through the door.
Malik had asked if he was hungry.
Indy had said yes before his brain had a chance to suggest that leaving might be the smarter option. And then, somehow, they’d ended up here, in the backyard, with steaks on the grill and the evening growing gold around the edges.
It was easy talking to Malik. It shouldn’t have been, given that he’d led demons directly to the flower shop, but it was. The banter came naturally, fitting together the way the timing between two people could sometimes just work, and Indy kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
There was always a falling shoe.
But so far, the skies were clear of footwear.
Malik crouched beside Indy’s chair and dug out something from the cooler he hadn’t noticed until now. His mate was close enough that Indy could see the line of Malik’s jaw and the way his lashes were longer than seemed entirely necessary. His arm brushed Indy’s knee as he straightened.
Brief. Probably accidental.
Indy’s fox did not treat it as accidental. It was already halfway feral.
“You’re quieter than earlier.” The wood groaned as Malik settled his muscular frame in the chair beside him.
“I talk a lot when I’m nervous. I’m recalibrating.” Indy wiggled his hand between them like it was boneless. “This is my normal volume. You should be relieved.”
“I wasn’t complaining.” The deep timbre of Malik’s voice rolled softly over Indy, the sound rich and decadent, as if his mate were savoring every syllable. But it was the heated way Malik’s eyes had mapped Indy’s body that had nearly turned him into a drooling mess.
Until the softest purr rumbled from deep in Malik’s broad chest. “Are you a naughty little fox?”
“I’m a resourceful vulpine.” Indy hid his smirk as Malik arched a brow, neither of them willing to break eye contact first. “Vulpine means—”
“Fox.” The moment stretched, Malik’s intense focus locked on Indy’s mouth like his mate was already tasting him. As much as Indy wanted to kiss those soft-looking lips, he was just as eager for answers.
Like why Malik was running from demons, and whether this was something fixable or one of those relocating, no-forwarding-address, trying-to-remember-your-new-name kind of deals? Indy was pretty flexible as long as he had all the facts.
Then he would kiss the blazes out of his sexy cheetah. He was already hot and bothered from hearing his mate purr. If Indy waited much longer to ask some very important questions, his clothes would vanish and his ass would be up and lubed. Strictly voluntary and shamelessly willing.
Leaning in slightly, Indy closely scrutinized his mate, eyes flicking over smooth skin and Malik’s facial hair, a full beard Indy was dying to run his fingers through.
