“I don’t,” Bryce said as he stepped inside. He quietly shut the door.
“I nearly got my ass suspended today becausesomeonecalled my supervisor and mentioned I broke into Lawson’s place.” Jesse set the six-pack down on the kitchen island. The beer sounded like a good idea. He had a bottle opener somewhere in his kitchen. Finding it gave him an excuse not to look at Bryce, which was good since he couldn’t figure out if he was angry or horny. Or both.
“One, if you don’t want to get in trouble for an illegal search, maybe don’tdoan illegal search,” Bryce replied. When Jesse glared at him, he continued, “And two, I didn’t call your boss. In fact, I got into trouble with my boss when she found out I saw you at the scene and let you go. I nearly got my ass fired today for indulging you, so don’t get pissed at me.”
Anger won out over loneliness and horniness. Jesse slammed a drawer shut, and the silverware rattled. “Indulging me?”
“That was Bonnell’s word, not mine. I don’t mean it.”
“You fucking said it. I’d like to know what you did mean.”
Bryce pressed his lips together, and they entered a stare-down. Jesse was prepared to stay stock-still all night, but Bryce caved. He sagged and sighed heavily. “If I was following protocol, I would’ve dragged you in last night and my team would have been searching your apartment today, too.”
Jesse held his wrists out toward Bryce. “Then go ahead and follow protocol. Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Christ, Jesse. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Containing information and imprisoning people is what you do, isn’t it?”
“It’s not like that. And get off your high horse. Not only does the FBI keep secrets, but you want to work for my people,” Bryce replied. “You’re only upset because you’re still on the outside.”
Jesse didn’t have a defense against that, since Bryce was right.
“So, are we done fighting?” Bryce asked.
There wasn’t much point in staying angry at Bryce for speaking the truth. Jesse sighed. “Yeah, I guess. Want one of these beers you brought?”
“Please.”
Bryce headed for the couch while Jesse went to grab beers for them from the kitchen island.
“What is this?” Bryce said.
Jesse paused, knowing without looking that Bryce must mean the slim black book. He turned slowly, and, sure enough, Bryce held the volume up. “Would you believe that is my Great-Aunt Cordelia’s recipe book?”
Bryce’s glare was ice-cold as he opened the journal. “Where did you get this?”
Jesse set the beers down on the kitchen island. “You know where I got it.”
“Lawson?”
“Yes.”
Bryce stood up. “Okay. Since you apparently won’t listen to a damn thing I say and insist on impeding my investigation, there’s really only one thing I can do.”
“Hire me?” Jesse said.
Bryce didn’t like the joke. Jesse held his wrists out again.
