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“Penny’s my friend!” Standing with poor Chloe trapped in her grasp, Mia wanders closer on unsteady feet. “She’s myfavoritefriend, ‘cept for Daddy.”
“That’s my girl,” Fletch sings. “Daddy always comes first.”
“Oh yeah? I bet Penny’s agreatfriend.” Aubree kneels when Mia’s close enough, then she grabs the cat and sets her free before we have a massacre of sharp claws on little girl skin. “It’s funny how Daddy hasn’t brought Miss Penny around to meet me and Minka yet, huh? Almost like he’s hiding her from us.”
“She’s verrrrry nice,” Mia says. “We made chocolate cake last night and saved a piece for when Daddy got home from work.”
“He got home late, too.” Sly, Aubs looks up and to her left to catch his eye. “It’s very special that Miss Penny sleeps over at your apartment when Daddy has to work late, huh? And to make cake means she saves the sugar for him too.”
“Easy now.” Less smiley, Fletch grumbles, “Dial it back, Emeri, or I’ll mention Timothy Malone the Third again.”
Shaking my head, I drink my coffee, staying in my lane while I let the other two bicker over the top of a child.
“I’m just saying,” she pushes. “Usually, you bring your friends around us. But not this time. Not Penny.”
“Could be because you’re weird,” he counters. “Maybe I don’t want you to scare her off.”
“Daddy!” Disapproving, Mia scowls up at her father. “You’re being mean.”
“Aw, I’m sorry, Moo.” Setting his fresh coffee aside, he steps closer to Aubree and offers his hand to help her straighten up.
It could look chivalrous, I suppose, if not for the way he bites out a quiet, “Mind your business.”
Releasing her hand when she’s standing tall, he looks to me and switches his expression for a fun smirk. “How long do you think Archer’s gonna be? We have work to do.”
I shrug and glance to the perpetually wrong clock. “Probably another eight minutes. Would’ve been less if you’d stayed home and left us alone.”
“Bitterness isn’t a flattering shade for you, Delicious.” He looks to Aubree and down at her legs. He can’t help himself; they may be platonic friends, the most platonic of any relationship Fletch has ever had with a woman, but he’s still a man, and her legs are looking sexy and ready for spring. “Cute glitter, Aubs. Is it new?”
“It sure is.” She lifts her foot and twists her ankle to show off the delicate chain. “It’s a token of my love for Minka, even when it’s early in the morning and she’s feeling a little grumpy.”
“Hey.”Grumpy, I frown over the top of my coffee. “I’m being nice. Besides,” I look back to Fletch, “how the hell did you get in here? This ismyapartment, Detective Fletcher. Do you often break and enter while people sleep?”
“Sleep.” He snorts. “And don’t sweat the small details. You don’t wanna know the answer.”
“You having access to my locked apartment isn’t a ‘small detail’,” I growl. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you face up to five years in prison for your crime.”
“She uses big words when she’s pre-coffee,” Aubree teases. “What are you guys up to today?” Then she looks along the hall. “Where’s Archer?”
“He’s showering off his latest conquest,” Fletch smarts. “Mia and I arrived just in time to keep them innocent.”
Kill him. Destroy him. Hang him naked in the middle of City Park while covered in honey.
Let nature do to Fletcher whatever nature’s gonna do.
“We’re going to see Doctor Hector Brown just as soon as Arch gets clean underwear on. I found Holly’s therapist this morning while having coffee and perusing the internet.”
“The internet?” I ask. “What?”
“LinkedIn,” he giggles. “I swear, every guy with a small dick and a big ego is on there. Hector’s still in the city, practicing out of an office in Midtown, but he has a shiny new name these days. We’re gonna talk to him about Holly just as soon as Arch gets his sh—”
“I’m here.” Yanking the bathroom door open and filling the hall with steam, Archer steps out in fresh jeans, a white tank top, and his brand-new chain resting proud over his heart.
For just a moment, my sex-deprived and caffeine-deficient brain focuses on the steam eating into my walls. But then my brows shoot tall and stop on my husband’s strong body wrapped in a tight tank.
He looks good.
For my libido, yeah. But for my anxiety, too. His shoulder is healing up, his gait is straightening out, and his eyes long ago cleared up, returning to the perfect, sharp, gemstone green they used to be prior to the pain medication that became his daily breakfast.
