Page 6 of In the Mouth of the Wolf

A blush crept across my cheeks, and I couldn’t help myself from smiling back. Nah, this was absolutely going to be mine.

2

MARLOWE

“Best pancakes in the world,” I read aloud, looking over the sticky, laminated menu. “Do you ever wonder how restaurants get away with those claims? Legally speaking, of course.”

Elias laughed, leaning back in his seat, an adorable dimple coming to life on his left cheek. “I can’t say that I have. But how do you know it’s not true?”

“Hmm…” I ran my finger down the exhaustive list. “I guess I’ll have to order a stack and find out. I’m sure you can expense this, right? It’s for research, after all.”

He lifted his hand to signal the waitress. “My favorite kind of research.” His green eyes twinkled mischievously and his voice lowered. “Tell me, Ms. Linden, do you have a sweet tooth?”

The look he gave me was ravenous and disarmingly charming. As an engaged woman, it was inappropriate for me to flirt back, but he was way too cute. And the vibe I got from him seemed much more harmless than the counselor at the hospital. He felt like a safe person to joke around with. Someone I could trust.

Damn, he must have been a successful lawyer. I couldn’t imagine trying to argue against this guy in court. He probably had all the judges wrapped around his finger. Good thing he was working for me at the moment.

“The sweetest,” I answered, giving a small wink.

He grinned, and the scent of his cologne wafted over the table, making my mouth water more than the bacon sizzling in the kitchen. I needed to ask him what he was wearing without sounding creepy so I could get a bottle for Mike for Christmas. Notes of bergamot and pepper, if my nose was correct.

“What can I getcha?” asked the waitress, leaning hard on her hip to pop out her leg.

“We’ll take two cups of coffee, a short stack of your buttermilk pancakes, a short stack of your blueberry pancakes, another of your apple cinnamon…”

My jaw fell open as he continued ordering.

“Let’s see, and then we’ll do two orders of the carnivore platter… Wait.” He paused and looked at me. “You’re not on some hippy, Californian diet, are you?”

I rolled my eyes. Why did everyone from the Midwest always assume people on the west coast were all gluten-free, vegan, health nuts? “Extra sausage patties, please,” I added, turning to the waitress. She blew a bubble with her gum as she jotted down the rest of our order, taking our menus and heading off.

I watched as the doors to the kitchen swung shut and whistled. “Well, I certainly will need to be on a diet after all this food. I think you ordered close to 10,000 calories.”

Elias waved off my concern. “I’m sure we’ll burn it off pretty quickly.”

My face heated. Maybe he wasn’t so innocent? He leaned forward, speaking quietly. “Reading wills is quite the workout.”

“Oh.” I chuckled nervously. “Right.” I had to stop reading so much into things.

We got our coffees and I poured three packets of sugar and four little containers of half-and-half into my cup while Elias watched in horror. “You weren’t kidding about that sweet tooth,” he said. “Are you sure that even counts as coffee anymore?”

“Ha ha,” I replied sarcastically. “Sorry, I don’t hate myself enough to drink it black. Blegh.”

The snow was coming down harder now, and while I should have been disappointed that I likely wasn’t making it home anytime this weekend, part of me was enjoying the coziness of the moment. Who wouldn’t want to eat their weight in pancakes sitting across from one of the hottest guys they’d ever met?

There was no reasoning to explain how I’d managed to finish half of everything Elias had ordered and not explode – sometime between the shock of yesterday and this morning, my stomach had turned into a black hole, devouring whatever was in its path. Perhaps being in the cold again had my body convinced I needed to prepare for hibernation.

Elias’s satellite office wasn’t too far from the diner, but the roads were getting slick and I hoped the trucks would finish salting everything by the time we were done.

The address he had entered into my phone led me to an old Victorian house that had been converted into commercial property. On the first floor, I saw signs for a notary and a small dentistry, while Elias’s office was upstairs. The building was closed for the holiday and the heat turned off. I shivered as Elias fiddled with the keys.

“California has made you weak,” he joked, seemingly unaffected by the low temperature.

“Nah, I’ve always hated the cold,” I replied through my chattering teeth.

“Hm, I bet.” The richness of his voice sent another shiver through my body. “Let me guess, you’re the type of woman who lives most of the year under a pile of throw blankets with a mug of hot chocolate.”

Something about how he had me pegged made me a little mad, but he wasn’t one hundred percent right, and I haughtily corrected him, “No, I prefer Earl Grey tea, thank you. And let me guess, you spend most of your time drinking cheap beer on a cracked leather sofa, getting pissed off because the Bears are losing again?”

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