Page 15 of Wild Tides
“My body count is perfectly respectable.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem. Respectable. Where’s our ruthless killer – the Mistress of Midnight?
Distracted by the man downstairs. Occasionally, Lee’s snarling reached my ears, even though I was a floor above him. The manhad a talent for yelling “fuck this” at volume. If I didn’t know he was plotting a fictional murder, I might be worried.
The front seat to his plotting process was... not pretty. Hair on end, wild-eyed, he’d growled when I asked him if he needed anything after I got home. Then he’d gone back to scribbling in a notebook, his laptop abandoned at his hip, his feet extended in front of him on the couch.
“Cut her some slack, Parker. She’s babysitting.”
I huffed, the soft snort carrying through my headset. Could you still call it babysitting if the man refused to be babied? “It’s like caring for an angry cat.”
Harry giggled, the soft laughter crackling in my earbuds. “Hissing and claws? I figured Lee would be better behaved. He’s always so quiet when he comes into the bakery. Very polite.”
“Sure. You’re feeding him.”
Harry’s giggle turned into a full-blown laugh. “Don’t tell me he’s going hungry on your watch. I won’t believe you.”
True. I’d popped some potatoes in the oven before logging in to play. It wasn’t fancy, but chili over baked potatoes promised to be warm and comforting. After a day of rain and wind gusts, it sounded like heaven. But I could kick it up a notch.
“Yeah, yeah. Maybe I’ll get a baking experiment in after dinner.”
“Care to share, carb friend?”
“Lee is partial to cherries, and I have yet to perfect a recipe for cherry chocolate cupcakes.”
“Hm,” Harry mused. “If you’re interested in a goat cheese frosting for that, hit me up. I have a recipe I swear by.”
“Can confirm, it is awesome,” Parker said. “She lets me lick the bowl.”
“That’s not the only thing she lets you lick...”
“Die jealous, Fenwick. Head in the game. Maybe a murder spree will make you feel better.”
He wasn’t wrong. There was something satisfying about taking out my aggression on the keyboard. As I lifted severed head after head, working my way through twenty bloodthirsty marauders with Harry and Parker doing their part to thin the herd, I wondered if Lee sometimes felt the same.
Fictional murder was satisfying. Real-life blood would make me hurl. I’d leave the search and rescue to Lee and my brothers. They seemed to thrive in emergencies. Me? I froze. Panicked. But I baked a mean cookie. Could keep the searchers fed and fueled. Maybe it wasn’t pulling someone from a narrow ledge cliff-side, but I did my part.
I ripped the head off the last pirate, brandishing it for my squad. “My work here is done. Time to finish dinner. Have a good night.”
“You too, Vi. Text me if you want that frosting recipe.”
I logged off, pulling the pan from the oven and pushing a fork into the potatoes. Perfect. Crisp on the outside, tender on the inside. The secret was to rub them with oil and coat the russet skins in enough salt to make a cardiologist frown. I’d previously pulled a container of Drew’s chili from the freezer to thaw, so it only took a few minutes to heat it and top our potatoes.
I carried the plates downstairs to Lee. “Dinner.”
Lee was where I’d left him, booted foot on the couch, scowl contorting his handsome features, hair so ruffled, he looked more porcupine than man. He shut his notebook with a snap, shoving it and his laptop roughly on the floor.
I raised my brow. “Going that well, huh?”
His grumble was unintelligible. Maybe for the best. It was wrong to think he was utterly adorable, when he was clearly frustrated enough to pop. I thought he’d snarl and send me on my way, ignoring my dinner offering until it grew cold, but he seemed to welcome the excuse to stop working.
“Thanks for bringing down dinner. It smells great.”
I blinked. A compliment and his attention? He must be absolutely stuck.
“How are Harry and Parker tonight?”
“Good.” I didn’t think he paid that much attention to my gaming. “How’s the foot?”
