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“The chief’s done for the day,” he announces as we pass. “If you need something, email her, and she’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
I scowl as we walk, and straighten my gait when I realize I’m lagging. “Don’t dismiss my staff or speak for me, Detective Malone.”
“Stop me.” He opens my office door and practically shoves me inside, then he turns to my staff again while I grab my briefcase, and adds, “Until her surgeon says otherwise, Chief Mayet’s working hours are strictly from nine to five. Anything else can be dealt with the next business day.”
When Raquel lifts her hand to speak, Archer growls, “No exceptions.”
My temper alights and my mood turns darker, aided by exhaustion and irritation with my still-sore shoulder, so I mutter under my breath as I grab my things and switch off my computer. I snag a half-empty, stone-cold cup of coffee from my desk and, while my husband’s back is to me, I bring it up and chug the contents the way others might shoot vodka.
It’s tastier than I might’ve expected, and brings a smile to my face that saves Archer from my wrath—for now.
Setting the mug down again, I heft my bag and head to my door. “Detective Malone.” I step through the small gap he makes, and warn, “Don’t make me ban you from my building.” Then I bring my attention to my colleagues. “Doctor Raquel?” Reaching the elevator, I hit the call button. “What do you need?”
“Nothing.” The second the doors open again, she steps across the threshold, but uses her hand to interrupt their closing and signal the sensor to wait, as Kirk and Archer follow us in. “I have a dozen resumés already on my desk, awaiting your perusal.”
“I don’t want to read a dozen.” I hit the button for the first floor and feel Archer step up behind me and set his hand on my hip. He’s discreet. Silent. But so fricken caring, it makes my tired self a little emotional. “Whittle it down to three,” I tell her. “I want the abridged notes of your impressions of them, and the salary they’re looking for. Just like our incoming coffee machine, we want the best for damn near free.”
Satisfied when she nods in acknowledgment, I glance to Kirk and lift a brow. “Doyouneed something?”
“Uh… no.” His face flames with a blush and warms the entire inside of the elevator. “I only wanted to give you an update on the Grosvenor case. Detective Bird caught his perp this afternoon, and it was entirely on the back of your assistance.”
“Good. And congratulations. That’s another closed case in your file.”
I smile when the silver doors open on the lobby level and no one waits to pounce on me. No one else is eager to force me to talk when I’m beyond done with my day.
Exhaling, I start forward, Archer still firmly attached to my hip, and leave the other two behind.
“Detective,” I murmur as we approach the massive revolving doors.
“Mm?”
Emerging outside in the cooling evening air, I draw it to the bottom of my lungs. “Take me home, I’m begging you.”
“With pleasure.”
ARCHER
The shower runs, and music plays through the small speakers of Minka’s phone. A jazzy, piano concerto thing I’m not accustomed to hearing inside this apartment. But she’s an injured woman, tired beyond belief, and desperate for a little downtime.
So if she wants to chill out to the plinking of a piano, then I’ll be dead and buried before I try to stop her.
Where normally I do everything I can to join her in the shower, right this moment, I stay in the kitchen and whisk a dozen eggs. My contribution to her rest. Because if I follow her to the bathroom, she won’t get any at all. She won’t heal, she won’t do what’s best for her. Instead, she’ll do what’s best forme.
And no matter how hungry I am for her lips to circle my cock, or her legs to wrap around my hips, I won’t be the reason she can’t get better.
“You need to stay out of her way, too.” I cast a sideways glance toward the cat, and raise a single brow in warning. “I know you like to stay close, but don’t be tripping her up.”
When I hear the shower stop and know she’s on her way, I pour the beaten eggs into a pan and stir to start them scrambling.
A moment later, the sound of her bare feet slapping the floor makes me grin, as I picture her making the naked dash to the bedroom.
“You wanna watch TV with me, Mayet?” I call out. “Survivoris on. The firefighter from Brooklyn’s gonna be voted out tonight, you wait and see.”
“No he’s not!”
Fabric rustles on her end of the apartment, while eggs sizzle on mine. Chloe purrs, and sniffs around for her dinner, and above her on the counter, my phone beeps with notifications of text messages from my brothers. But I leave them unread in favor of grabbing the salt from the pantry.
“That chick is going tonight,” Minka says confidently as she emerges at the end of the hall.
