Page 48 of Carnal Urges
Thor doesn’t spare me a glance as he sets the tray down and picks up the old one. “Don’t bother tryin’ to chat me up, lass. I’ve been told not to talk to you.”
Like Kieran, he pronounces “you” like “ye.” Declan must’ve put something funny in the last food delivery, because I’m starting to think Irish accents are the sexiest of them all.
Or maybe that’s my brain bleed talking.
I don my brightest smile. “Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want to get you in trouble. I just wanted to know your name so I could tell Declan what a good job you did, but I understand you’re under orders. Mum’s the word.”
He straightens and glowers at me.
I make a zipper motion across my lips. “Seriously. No talking, I promise. Except if you could just tell me if Kieran’s okay, that would be great. We’re friends, you know. You and I could be friends, too, if you wanted, but I know that probably goes against your whole badass gangster vibe to befriend a helpless captive and whatnot. Has anyone ever told you that you bear a striking resemblance to Thor, the Norse god of thunder?”
He pauses before saying, “Usually I get Captain America.”
I gasp. “Oh my god, you’re so right! It’s that jaw. Very heroic.”
He looks momentarily pleased, before he remembers he’s not supposed to be talking to me. The glower makes a reappearance.
“Right. Sorry. My bad. If you could just tell Kieran I was asking after him, I’d really appreciate it. I feel so bad about his nose.”
“Don’t. It’s an improvement.” The faint approximation of a smile curves the corners of his mouth. “All the lads thought it wasdead sound, lass. Wicked craic.” His smile vanishes. “Don’t tell Declan I said that, if you please.”
“I won’t. You can count on me. If he asks about you, I’ll tell him you were a mute asshole. That should make him happy.”
He lowers his head and examines my face for a moment. Then he nods and turns back to the door. Just as he’s about to leave, he turns back to me.
“The name’s Spider.”
“Your mother named youSpider? I don’t think so. What’s your real name?”
He considers me in silence for a while, then says grudgingly, “Homer. And if you repeat that, I’ll—”
“Homer? Very cool! I wish I were named after an ancient Greek poet, but I’m embarrassed to admit my mom wanted a name that would fit either a boy or a girl and found Sloane on some random baby name website. At least your mother had real inspiration. I think mine was drunk on rosé.”
When I notice how strangely he’s looking at me, I get worried. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Most people from this country think of the cartoon character Homer Simpson when I tell them my name.”
“Oh. Well, I’m not most people, now, am I?”
When I grin, he chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I hear you offered to cook Kieran a meal.”
“Yes. But not only him. I offered to cook for all of you. I’m a very good chef, if I do say so myself. It’s too bad you and Kieran aren’t supposed to be talking to me, because you could lobby Declan to let me into the kitchen. It would be good therapy for us both. I’m already getting bored. Imagine how much I’ll annoy him in another few days when I’m really climbing the walls!”
He opens his mouth, remembers he shouldn’t be having this conversation, and shuts it again.
“Oops. That’s my fault. I don’t want to get you in trouble, so you should probably go. When I see Declan next, I’ll pretend to be crying and blame it on you.”
“Decent of you. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“By the way, what’s that stench?”
“I used Declan’s cigarette lighter to burn one of his ties.”
We gaze at each other in silence for a moment. He says gently, “Why don’t you give me the lighter, lass?”
“Ooh, good idea! You can tell him you took it away from me and I started sobbing. He’ll probably give you a raise.”
