Rebel collected the bakery box off the counter and set it in front of Honor. “Check it out.”
After lifting the lid, Honor grinned. “I love cupcakes, and these are so pretty.” She slid the box to Jordan so he could see.
“Who wants coffee?” Brit walked into the kitchen.
“Only if its decaf,” Jordan said. “Otherwise, I’m up watching the sun rise.”
“Decaf is it.” Brit got busy making a pot.
Honor helped Rebel place the cupcakes on a serving platter. Minutes later, they were devouring the sweet treats. Their conversation resumed.
As far as Rebel was concerned, it was a lot of talk about nothing. Jordan divulged nothing about his life, nothing about his business, nothing about what he did when he wasn’t consulting. A whole lotta nothing.
When they’d drained the coffee pot, Jordan rose. “Thanks for having us. I know Liliana was disappointed she couldn’t make it.”
“Let’s take a group pic and text it to her,” Rebel suggested.
“That’s probably not a good idea. She’ll only feel left out.” Jordan shifted his attention to Honor. “You ready?”
“This was fun,” Honor said. “Thanks for having us.”
After Brit retrieved their coats, they left.
Rebel pulled out latex gloves and evidence bags. They bagged Honor’s silverware and glass, did the same for Jordan’s items, along with his empty beer bottles.
“We’re heading to ALPHA tomorrow,” Rebel said. “We’ll drop these at the lab.”
“We’re letting HR know we’re a couple,” Brit said with a smile.
Addison hugged her sister goodbye. “I’m so happy for both of you.”
The second they were alone, they were in each other’s arms. He traced her mouth with his finger, dipped down and kissed her. “How are you feelin’?”
“My throat’s all better, but I’m so tired. Like sleep-for-days tired.”
“That’s ‘cause we’re not sleeping much.”
“What do you think of Honor and Jordan?”
“Honor seems sweet enough,” he said. “Naïve, a little dependent on Jordan.”
“I think so too,” Brit severed their connection, clasped his hand, and guided him to the kitchen. “Did you ask him about his past?”
“Yeah, he didn’t say much. He had a business, lost it, drove west, ended up at the cult. Now, he’s a consultant.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. I’m gonna run his picture through Stryker’s IDware.”
“What’s IDware?”
“Facial recognition software, like what law enforcement have, only better.”
“Jordan said no pics.”
“I’d already snapped a few.”
She smiled. “One of my fave things about you. You never let the wordnostop you.”
