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Fiona slapped at his chest. “It’s not that bad.”
“I should remind you that it’s a bad idea to lie to a cop.”
“Okay. Maybe it is, but I’m not much of a cook.”
“I don’t think you’re any kind of cook,” Slade chuckled, “and before you commit another count of assault on an officer, you should know I love to cook.”
“You do?” she asked, surprised.
“Yes. It relaxes me. There’s something that I like about following a recipe and knowing that if you do it correctly it will give you the desired result. I also get a good hit from feeding people, seeing them enjoy my food… it makes me feel necessary.”
“Your explanation makes some sense, but I never would have guessed,” Fiona said, sitting up and seemingly unaware that the covers had pooled in her lap, leaving her naked and exposed from the waist up. “I would have imagined you diving, surfing, hunting—you know, all that alpha male stuff.”
He reached out and cupped her breast, hefting its weight, rubbing his thumb over it, and smiling as it responded eagerly to his touch.
“I do enjoy those things, but I like cooking, too. When you’ve seen as much violence and death as I have, doing things that serve others becomes far more important. The last several Thanksgivings, I’ve gone into Bangor and cooked and served holiday dinners at the homeless shelter.”
“I love that. I’ve thought about doing it, but never have.”
“Maybe this year we can do it together.” He wondered if she had any idea what a huge step that was for him—committing to some nebulous idea in the future.
Slade kissed her again. He liked kissing Fiona—her lips always parted easily, and her mouth softened, allowing him to taste her, committing her sweetness to memory. There was something about Fiona that made him feel like he was home. Ever since he’d joined the SEALs, he’d had jobs to do, people to save, and people to bring to justice, but he’d never felt home. The closest he came to it was his place up by the falls. The A-frame had become a refuge of sorts, but it had never fully felt like home. He supposed if she was there, it would go a long way towards making him feel like he had finally come home.
Sitting with Fiona cuddled up against him, sharing breakfast and talking about inconsequential things felt right and good and made him feel at peace. But they had a murderer to catch. Slade was smart enough to know that his choices were to include Fiona in his hunt for Daniel’s killer or exclude her, knowing she would do it on her own. Inclusion was safer.
“As much as I’d like to lie in bed with you all day and while away the hours, that isn’t what the State of Maine pays me for and won’t lead me to Daniel’s killer. Why don’t you go get ready, and we’ll head over to the police station.”
“We?”
Slade snorted. “Give me credit enough to know that there’s no way you’re not going to try and find the person or persons who tried to kill you and who murdered Daniel.”
“Why the station?”
“I keep thinking the key to this is whatever happened all those years ago up at the falls. Just a reminder that cold cases are cold because the answer or evidence isn’t easily discerned.”
“Why include me?” she asked as she slipped out of bed.
“For one thing, I like being with you. For another I think if I don’t include you, you’ll just go off on your own or with a little help from your friends.”
“I don’t know why you say that.” Slade scowled at her, and she laughed. Apparently, he wasn’t as intimidating as he thought he was. “Okay, that’s probably true.”
“And lastly, I wasn’t there. You were. I can interpret what they wrote down, photographed, or saved from newspapers and other sources, but you were there.”
“But I didn’t see anything…”
“My experience says you saw more than you think. But if you don’t want to go…”
“I’ll be ready by the time you get the kitchen cleaned up,” she said, heading toward the bath.
“So, I have to cook and do the dishes?”
She grinned at him. “Pretty much. By the way, breakfast was delicious, and in the future, you cook and I’ll do the dishes.”
“Deal,” he said, enjoying the sway of her backside as she went into the bath and closed the door.
God, she was sexy.
* * *
