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~Schuyler~
We pulled into Paxton’s driveway after stopping off at my place for some stuff, and Pax put the truck in park before helping me out of the vehicle and up the steps of his porch. I felt okay, but he was still treating me as if I were made of spun glass. The girly part of me enjoyed it, though, so I wasn’t about to say anything. At least, not unless or until he did something that crossed the line between chivalry and being overbearing. But I couldn’t see him doing that.
He led me through the house to the spare bedroom across the hall and a bit down from the master and set my stuff on the bed, showing me where the towels were and all the things I’d need.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Surprisingly, I was, despite everything that’d happened and the stew of confusion going on in my head. “Yeah, I could eat. Are we ordering in?”
“Nah. I thought I’d make us something. Is there anything you won’t or can’t eat?”
“Wait, you cook?”
He smiled. “I run a soup kitchen. Did you really think I couldn’t cook?”
I shrugged. “I’m . . . sorry? For some reason, in the back of my mind, I just didn’t see you as the domestic type. After seeing your place earlier, though, I should have figured. Are you like a chef-level cook, or just a passable cook? Should I look into booking you a spot onTop Chef?”
He shook his head, a smile flirting with his lips. “How does a western omelet and homemade biscuits sound? And not the ones from a can or eggs with frozen veggies. The real deal.”
“Damn. You may have just found a way to my heart. Especially since I can’t cook worth shit.”
He chuckled, shook his head, and gestured for me to head on out to the kitchen. Once I’d taken a seat at the island and he got to work pulling out and prepping the stuff he needed for the meal, I realized that I hadn’t checked my phone all night. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that I had a missed call from my mom. I felt a weird flush of anxiety at seeing her name on the notifications.
I brought up the voicemail app and let the smartphone transcribe, but with her accent, it had some trouble. I hit play and brought the phone to my ear.
“Hello, darling. I got your message. I didn’t know you were investigating the Lamour Mansion. Um . . . there are some things we should talk about. The short answer is, yes, I may know what those words mean. Or can at least give you some information on their origins. I wish I could talk to you about all this in person, but your dad and I are actually out of town. Call me when you get this and can. Love you.”
Well, that was strange. Pax came over to the island and tapped the counter in front of me to get my attention. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. Mom left me a return voicemail in response to my message about the wholeapplething and the nameSeiko. Here, listen to this. It’s . . . kind of odd. But given the whole blood-type thing, I may be projecting.” I put the phone on speaker and played the voicemail for him.
“No, she was definitely hesitant, and the tone of her voice when she brought up the house was peculiar, too,” he said. “It almost sounded like you being there scared her for some reason. Do you think she knows something about what’s going on at the estate?”
“I can’t imagine why or how,” I said. But after the days we’d had, nothing would shock me anymore. “I’ll give her a call after we get some shut-eye.” I looked at him. “This may be an out-there request, but would you mind being there with me? I have a bad feeling about what might happen during the conversation, and I’d just rather not be alone.”
“Of course,” he said. “Oh, crap.” He hurried back over to the stove to check the omelet, and I chuffed a laugh.
“Is it salvageable?” I asked. “Sorry to distract you.”
“That’s a common occurrence.”
Huh?I looked at his back, wondering what he’d meant by that. We were quiet for a while as he finished our breakfast and then served us both. We even ate in companiable silence. Pax and I had been working together for years, and I considered us friends, especially since Dev paired us together on investigations more often than not when they needed all-hands on deck. But I’d never really grasped how comfortable I felt with him. It was strange to realize that now.
Once I’d helped him clean up, I found myself fading. I unearthed another jaw-cracking yawn and stretched after I hung up the dishtowel.
“We should try and get some sleep,” Pax said. “I’m not sure what today will have in store for us at the mansion, or what Dev will want to do given everything that’s happened.”
“Yeah, I’m beat.”
“There are fresh sheets on the spare bed. Do you need some water?”
“That’d be good, just no holy water,” I said and stretched again.
“Very funny.” He brought me a bottle from the fridge and then moved to the kitchen doorway, standing with his hand near the switch. “After you,” he said.
I shuffled past him and headed for the bedrooms. I could almost feel the weight of his stare on my back and gave myself a little internal shake. If I wanted to initiate something with Paxton, I knew he’d be receptive. I didn’t know much about his dating history, but I knew he had seen women over the years, and he was no longer a priest. Nothing precluded him from engaging in the sins of the flesh. I grinned at that thought and was glad he couldn’t see my face. I’d have to sleep on that. I hadn’t dated anyone in well over a year, and Pax had been a constant in my dreams of late—the non-nightmare ones, at least. Maybe I should just throw caution to the wind and ask him out. Or jump his bones. I mean, I was a big girl and confident in myself and my sexuality. The worst he could do was reject me. And I’d get over it if he did. It wasn’t like it would change anything with us working together and being friends.
Once we reached the doorway to Pax’s room, I stopped and turned to face him. His glacial eyes took me in, and I felt my breath hitch a bit. While the color was like the Ilulissat Icefjord in Greenland, the heat in his stare was anything but cold.
