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At the company, I worked one case at a time. Sure, there were multiple components, but it was all connected, and usually, I was the only one doing the digging. So why take the time to list what I needed to do when it was all in my steel trap?
Tomer leans closer, reaches toward my screen, and points at the third bullet. “And this is why Big Al hired you. I wouldn’t have come up with that. Not at this stage, anyway.”
I bump into him, barely grazing his chest with my shoulder. “Thanks, T-to-the-omer. You’re not so bad either.”
He gives my head a tousle, exactly as one would a kid sister. Because we have that sibling dynamic in spades.
Suddenly, a growling, grunting feral beast attacks us from behind.
Okay, not quite.
But that’s what it sounded like.
Tomer casually turns around to see ifGozer the Gozeriansent theKeymasteror theGatekeeperinto our office to murder us.
Get it? Cause of the grunting animal noises like inGhostbusters? Oh, forget it.
I twist around and am greeted by anextremelytense Klein, staring down at us, looking far too stabby for my liking. His chest expands and contracts in noticeably deep breaths. His fists are clenched tightly at his sides, and his lip is curled back in a look of… is that disgust?
I don’t know what his problem is now, but he’s hot as fuck. Makes me want to take those curled lips out for a test drive.
Not now, hormones. The sexy baby is having another tantrum because I dare to exist in his space.
Tense silence fills the room. Tomer and I share a confused glance, then fix our eyes on the figure lording over us in a visible murderous rage.
Is he going to say something or stand there sounding like Darth Vader?
Klein’s eyes shift from Tomer’s face to the back of my chair where his hand rests. Then he meets my eyes briefly before repeating the circuit.Tomer, hand on chair, me. Tomer, hand on chair, me.Again and again.
It hits me like a bolt from the blue.He’s jealous.His reaction in the elevator makes sense now.
Hedoesstill want me.
The thing is, he doesn’t want to want me. But that doesn’t mean he wants Tomer to have me, just like he didn’t want Shep to have had me.
Tingles dance across my skin, electrifying me to my core.
He wants me.
Klein.
Wants.
Me.
And I sure as hell still want him.
“You okay, man?” Tomer asks timidly, brows drawn tight.
I can already tell from his tone of voice and the fact that he didn’t remove the offending hand from my chair that Tomer has no clue why Klein is about to have a reason to Googlewhere to bury a body near me.
Thankfully, Tomer already taught me most of his tricks; so after his death, Redleg will carry on without him.
Sad, though. I’ll miss my brother from another mother.
Through gritted teeth, Klein finally forces out, “Fine. No problem.”
Then he stomps over to his seat, throws on his headphones, and turns up Tom Jones so damn loud that I’m fearful for his eardrums and mine. Thewhoomphorn blow at the beginning of “What’s New Pussycat?” alone will cause him to need to learn sign language by the time he’s fifty.
