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Ignoring the deputy's intimidating glower, the stranger grinned in welcome. "Hey, man. How's it going? Want some lasagna?" He lifted the container.
Raith blinked.
"There's plenty here," the slim, tall blond offered. "And let me tell you, Will makes orgasmic Italian. You don't just eat it, you moan your way through it."
Not sure how to answer, Raith shrugged. He hadn't eaten yet. And if this fellow was comfortable enough to steal food from "Will's" fridge and offer her leftovers to an unidentified guest then Raith didn't feel so bad about accepting. "Can't see how I can turn down orgasmic food."
The blond grinned. "Right on." He popped the whole tub into the microwave. As it nuked, the newcomer pulled plates and silverware from drawers and cabinets, making himself right at home.
Raith sat on a stool at the bar and watched the other man move knowingly through DeVane's kitchen. It was the oddest thing. The guy didn't seem jealous of Raith at all. Hell, he didn't even question Raith's presence.
"Want anything to drink?" he asked. "Will always has those pansy malt liquors around, but I might be able to dig us up some real beer if you'd like."
"No, I'm fine. She gave me a bottle of water."
The newcomer paused and cocked Raith an odd look. "Water?" He made a face. "Water's for taking a bath. Not drinking."
Willow finally found them, floating into the room with that seductive, hip-swaying stroll of hers. She pulled to a stop when she saw the added company. "What're you doing here?"
The blond rolled his eyes. "Do you never check your phone messages, woman? I left you, like, twenty. My wife's out of town. I need food."
Raith went still. So this was Kit from the answering machine. He looked like the pretty boy sort DeVane would go for. And no wonder why he didn't act jealous. He already had a wife. Why should Willow entertaining a man alone in her home bother him? He couldn't expect her to remain faithful when he was already unfaithful himself.
"So how did it suddenly become my responsibility to feed you just because Tina's away?" Willow asked. An annoyed line deepened between her sculpted eyebrows.
"Well..." Kit stalled. He spoke slowly as if addressing an infantile idiot. "Allison's working late, my mom's with Tina, your mom went out to eat, and Camille was planning on heating up leftovers. So, I figured, if I was going to have leftover food, then I wanted your leftover lasagna."
"And how did you know I had leftover lasagna sitting in my refrigerator?" DeVane demanded, folding her arms over her chest.
Raith thought that was a damn good question.
Kit sighed. "Because Camy told me that's what she ate over here a few days ago. And when you make Italian, you always make enough to feed an entire army, so I figured it was a safe bet you'd still have some around."
DeVane rolled her eyes and opened the microwave door when the timer went off. She glanced at the food inside and then noticed three plates sitting out, waiting to be filled.
"What?" she asked Kit. "You're feeding him too?"
Kit blinked. "Why not? Weren't you going to, anyway? I mean, the man's probably going to work up quite an appetite. He needs some kind of sustenance to get him through the night."
"How did you know—" Willow started, looking confused. But the double meaning behind Kit's words finally struck her. She gasped and smacked the man on the arm.
"Ouch." He glared, rubbing the pummeled spot. "What'd you do that for?"
"That's not why he's here," she said through clenched teeth, motioning blindly toward Raith. "Work up an appetite," she muttered, and then her face grew red with anger all over again. She smacked Kit once more on the side of the arm in the exact spot she had hit him the first time.
"Hey." He scuttled away from her. "Cut that out."
She fisted her hands on her hips. "How dare you suggest such a thing?"
"Geesh, sorry." Kit eyed her warily as he continued to rub his stinging arm. "It was an honest mistake. The guy was in your kitchen, and he looked like your type. What was I supposed to think?"
"He is not my type!" Raith thought she spoke with a little too much
force. She turned to him and insisted, "You're not my type."
He raised his eyebrows, intrigued by her overreaction. "Never thought I was."
She didn't reply for a moment, staring at him with the most fetching expression, as if contemplating the idea of him being present for the very activity Kit had suggested. She looked fascinated for a second, as if she had never seen anything as tempting as him. It shocked the hell out of him, but not quite as much as it made his body go hot. He wanted to reach for her and put his hands all over her.
