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CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Despite the cold anger wafting off Augustus in waves on the trip to his home, all I felt was relief when the three of us made our way from the car and down to the lower level of Augustus’ home, where the kitchen and living areas were situated.
Jeremy got up from the couch when he heard us come in, and his relief was palpable. “Oh, my ladies, where the bloody hell have you been?”
Unlike Augustus, Jeremy greeted us with zero anger and drew us both into a hug at the same time.
“We’re sorry, baby. We should’ve called you, but you know us. We take care of ourselves, and we took care of each other,” Riva told him.
“Hey, there’s no need to explain, sweet girl. I’m only glad you’re safe, is all. I’ll be honest, when I saw the tabloid this morning, I wanted to go and crack some heads. No one harasses my ladies and gets away with it.”
“They should have answered their phones,” Augustus grumbled.
I pulled away from Jeremy and squared off with Augustus. “Okay, Grouchy McGrouch Face, we get it, you were worried. Now get over it.”
Clearly, Augustus wasn’t getting over it anytime soon, given how tense his entire body was. “Anything could have happened to you.”
“But it didn’t. We. Are. O-kaay.” I grabbed his arms and shook him. “Stop pouting. Instead of pouting, we need a solution. This is clearly bigger than Major Jones now. So what do we do? How do I shake these paps?”
“You don’t,” Jeremy said as he absently stroked Riva’s arm. “Unfortunately, you’ve got to wait for them to lose interest. Which means not doing anything scandalous or anything of remote interest they can get their grubby hands on.”
A dark expression fell across Augustus’ face, but it was gone again in an instant, making me wonder what he was thinking.
“Have you had breakfast, girls?” Jeremy asked.
“No,” Riva and I said in unison.
“Good. Let me whip you up something bloody delicious.” Jeremy clapped his hands and wiggled his eyebrows.
We laughed at him.
Augustus seemed to be unable to shift his dark mood. “I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me. Emergencies only, please. Though, I bloody well hope there’s no more of those for a while.”
My shoulders slumped as I watched him climb the stairs.
Jeremy nudged me. “Don’t mind him. He’ll snap out of it soon enough. Come, I’ll make you breakfast.”
I sent him a soft smile. “I want to help.”
He affectionately kissed my forehead, and I followed him to the kitchen, where he pulled out all the trimmings for kickass pancakes. One thing that I enjoyed and was likely to make me happy again was cooking. I was no Chef Harris Rawlins, but I had definitely been an avid fan of his regular recipes and tips in my favorite cooking magazine,Feed Me Magazine,well before Louisa had shacked up with him.
Jeremy was stunned when I began cracking eggs into one of the glass bowls and quickly added milk and vanilla extract. “I’m guessing you’ve made pancakes on a regular basis?”
“Totally. It was pretty much a staple Saturday morning breakfast in my family. A stack o’ pancakes, maple syrup, and Saturday morning cartoons.” I grinned as I picked up a wooden spoon.
Riva sifted the flour and baking soda into a separate bowl. “It was much the same in my home, minus the cartoons. Saturday was grocery shopping day, and we had pancakes on the occasional Sunday if we were well-behaved.”
Jeremy added sugar and poured the contents of my bowl into Riva’s. “My mum loved pikelets, so that was what we made.”
“What are they?” I asked.
“Smaller-sized pancakes, slightly sweeter, that fit in the palm of your hand. She loved those with jam and cream and a good cup of tea.” Jeremy smiled to himself.
“‘Loved?’” I repeated carefully.
Sadness tinged Jeremy’s handsome face. “She’s gone now, my mum. Taken by ovarian cancer a couple of years back.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Jer,” I said.
