Page 191 of Detectives in Love
Aired? I frown, thrown off, but I don’t have time to ask. Xavier suddenly grips my hand and pulls me inside. We slip into the dim first-floor hallway, Willand and Crowley right behind us, the door shutting with a solid twist of the lock.
That’s when the Waverlys’ door opens and Mr. Waverly peeks out.
“They’re here, Muriel!” he calls back inside, and a moment later both Mr. and Mrs. Waverly shuffle out, instantly on us—gasping and fussing—bombarding me with questions. How am I feeling, what did the doctor say, how am I holding up?
By the time they’re done, all six of us are heading upstairs to our apartment. I don’t have much energy for company, but I still invite the Waverlys—and Willand and Crowley—to come up. We owe them that much, and it would feel cruel to send them back out while the journalists are still camped outside.
Xavier doesn’t look thrilled, but he doesn’t argue. When I offer coffee, all four immediately protest that I should beresting. I wave them off—it’s just coffee. That’s when Xavier steps in, insisting he’ll help. We leave the others in the living room and head into the kitchen together.
As I switch on the coffee maker, the kitchen door clicks shut. I glance over my shoulder.
Xavier’s already crossing the room. I lift an eyebrow, unsure what he’s planning, but then he’s on me—pressing me back against the counter just like yesterday. The heady scent of him makes my pulse spike.
This time, he doesn’t kiss me. He just stands there, body pressed to mine, arms braced on either side, trapping me in.
“I want them gone,” he growls, his voice low, almost feral. “You need to rest.”
“It won’t be long,” I murmur, tilting my head up at him. “Then I’ll rest. Promise.”
Xavier fixes me with an unreadable look, jaw tight, clearly unhappy about all of this. Now that the walls between us are gone, it’s striking to see this side of him—possessive and fiercely protective.
I smile at him and lean in for a kiss. He meets me halfway, his expression softening almost against his will. Our mouths crash together, his hands sliding into my hair, his tongue hot and slick as it pushes into my mouth, his hips grinding into mine. I can feel how hard he is through the layers of clothing, blood surging straight to my cock.
We pull apart a few moments later, breathless, eyes locked. Xavier’s gaze is dark, his lips swollen. He dips to press a kiss to my jaw before finally letting me go, seemingly reluctant to release me.
He helps me with the coffee, and then we head back into the living room.
“Oh, by the way—we found the bug in my office,” Willand says, throwing a quick look at Xavier. “God knows how long Nimoy was listening in on every single conversation in there.” His gaze darkens.
“You’re welcome,” Xavier says, casual as ever. “Let me guess—it was in the light switch?”
He sets down the tray with three cups. I place the other three, and we both take our seats across from the guests.
“Yeah,” Willand says, surprised. “How’d you know?”
Xavier shrugs. “Just a guess.”
But I know it wasn’t.
Mr. Waverly clears his throat and turns to Willand. “Chief, may I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Willand says, glancing over.
“I saw on the news… They said the shooter was killed on the spot. Is he dead?”
I blink, caught off guard, and glance at Willand. He gives me a quick look before answering.
“Yes. He’s dead.”
“Nimoy is dead?” I repeat, completely thrown. I glance at Xavier, who’s clearly avoiding my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The silence around the table sharpens. Everyone’s watching us now.
Xavier looks up, meets my gaze. There’s a quiet softness in his eyes when he says, “I…didn’t want to worry you.”
I can’t help smiling, a little amazed. “That wouldn’t worry me. If anything, I’ll sleep better now, knowing he won’t break into our home and try to kill us again.”
And that’s true.
