eight, what are you doing here?” Jerry stifled a yawn and glanced over at the sofa. As Ethan was not at the table with Dylan, she fully expected to see him lounging on the makeshift bed.
Surprisingly, the sofa bed they’d made up together last night was tucked neatly away. There was no sign of linens or Ethan in the room.
“The coffee’s better here. Plus, I brought the paper. They caught your good side.” He winked and tossed the paper onto the table.
“Not before coffee.” Jerry turned towards the kitchen and almost ran into Ethan, carrying two steaming mugs.
“Good Morning.” The simple phrase spoken in his hybrid Australian/English/Italian/French accent got her senses moving better than a gallon of caffeine. He handed her a mug.
“Morning.” Jerry tried not to blush at the direction of her thoughts, but it was like stopping the tide. “Thanks.” She accepted the mug and turned back towards the table.
Dylan watched the exchange with a little amusement and a lot of trepidation. It looked like Jerry was smitten with Slick, and vice versa. Dammit, I thought she was smarter than that, he nearly growled aloud.
Ever since Jerry became his partner, Dylan felt protective of her, sort of like a big brother. She’d more than proven her ability to handle the job, but he still looked out for her. At one point, about a year after his divorce, he’d felt the beginnings of attraction, but he quickly squelched it. For one thing, she was his partner. For another, he never intended to have more than a few-night’s stand with any woman ever again. Jerry deserved better than that. Just like she deserved better than Slick. Dylan knew his kind; love ‘em and leave ‘em. It was just like him to take advantage of the situation and mix a little pleasure with business. Not if I can help it, he swore to himself.
“Did you sleep well?” Jerry asked, her gaze still on Ethan.
“Like a babe,” he answered with a smile that made her heart trip.
“I slept great, too. Thanks for asking.” Dylan interjected.
“That’s nice, but you didn’t sleep on a sofa bed.” Jerry tossed at him.
“No, but have you heard Nate snore? The man sounds like a freight train.” Dylan lied. The truth was that Nate had awakened him last night, thanks to a nightmare, not snoring. But that was Nate’s business. “Luckily, I still had earplugs from the last time you and I shared a room.” He teased.
“Funny man.” Jerry glanced at Ethan. “I so do not snore.” She told him.
“How would you know, you sleep like the dead.” Dylan added.
Ethan observed the pair and felt more than ever that they were not romantically involved. Jerry’s reactions to him yesterday and last night had all but convinced him, but watching her interact with Dylan this morning reminded him more of siblings than lovers.
“Let’s see the paper,” Jerry reached for it just as Ethan did. Their hands brushed and sent shivery tingles straight to her core. She’d be surprised to know that Ethan felt them, too.
“Mmmm, nice. How did they get it so big? None of the other pictures are this large.” Jerry looked down at the image of her and Ethan smiling at each other as they left the restaurant. A few smaller images of them arriving lined the bottom of the frame.
“Ask the Prince.” Dylan left to refill his cup.
“Prince?” Jerry looked puzzled.
“No, technically my title is Duke. It’s part of my cover.” Ethan was suddenly very interested in selecting a muffin. He had no intention of confessing that the royalty aspect of his cover was not far from the truth. “Supposedly, I’m something like 1,676 th in line for the English throne. On my father’s side, he explained.
“And someone made sure to mention that to the press.” Jerry nodded.
“Yes. You Americans are so enamored with anything royal; we thought it would garner more publicity.” Ethan looked sheepish.
“And so it did.” Jerry studied the image, noting how happy they both looked. Anyone would think
Surprisingly, the sofa bed they’d made up together last night was tucked neatly away. There was no sign of linens or Ethan in the room.
“The coffee’s better here. Plus, I brought the paper. They caught your good side.” He winked and tossed the paper onto the table.
“Not before coffee.” Jerry turned towards the kitchen and almost ran into Ethan, carrying two steaming mugs.
“Good Morning.” The simple phrase spoken in his hybrid Australian/English/Italian/French accent got her senses moving better than a gallon of caffeine. He handed her a mug.
“Morning.” Jerry tried not to blush at the direction of her thoughts, but it was like stopping the tide. “Thanks.” She accepted the mug and turned back towards the table.
Dylan watched the exchange with a little amusement and a lot of trepidation. It looked like Jerry was smitten with Slick, and vice versa. Dammit, I thought she was smarter than that, he nearly growled aloud.
Ever since Jerry became his partner, Dylan felt protective of her, sort of like a big brother. She’d more than proven her ability to handle the job, but he still looked out for her. At one point, about a year after his divorce, he’d felt the beginnings of attraction, but he quickly squelched it. For one thing, she was his partner. For another, he never intended to have more than a few-night’s stand with any woman ever again. Jerry deserved better than that. Just like she deserved better than Slick. Dylan knew his kind; love ‘em and leave ‘em. It was just like him to take advantage of the situation and mix a little pleasure with business. Not if I can help it, he swore to himself.
“Did you sleep well?” Jerry asked, her gaze still on Ethan.
“Like a babe,” he answered with a smile that made her heart trip.
“I slept great, too. Thanks for asking.” Dylan interjected.
“That’s nice, but you didn’t sleep on a sofa bed.” Jerry tossed at him.
“No, but have you heard Nate snore? The man sounds like a freight train.” Dylan lied. The truth was that Nate had awakened him last night, thanks to a nightmare, not snoring. But that was Nate’s business. “Luckily, I still had earplugs from the last time you and I shared a room.” He teased.
“Funny man.” Jerry glanced at Ethan. “I so do not snore.” She told him.
“How would you know, you sleep like the dead.” Dylan added.
Ethan observed the pair and felt more than ever that they were not romantically involved. Jerry’s reactions to him yesterday and last night had all but convinced him, but watching her interact with Dylan this morning reminded him more of siblings than lovers.
“Let’s see the paper,” Jerry reached for it just as Ethan did. Their hands brushed and sent shivery tingles straight to her core. She’d be surprised to know that Ethan felt them, too.
“Mmmm, nice. How did they get it so big? None of the other pictures are this large.” Jerry looked down at the image of her and Ethan smiling at each other as they left the restaurant. A few smaller images of them arriving lined the bottom of the frame.
“Ask the Prince.” Dylan left to refill his cup.
“Prince?” Jerry looked puzzled.
“No, technically my title is Duke. It’s part of my cover.” Ethan was suddenly very interested in selecting a muffin. He had no intention of confessing that the royalty aspect of his cover was not far from the truth. “Supposedly, I’m something like 1,676 th in line for the English throne. On my father’s side, he explained.
“And someone made sure to mention that to the press.” Jerry nodded.
“Yes. You Americans are so enamored with anything royal; we thought it would garner more publicity.” Ethan looked sheepish.
“And so it did.” Jerry studied the image, noting how happy they both looked. Anyone would think
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