Love & Loyalty by Tere Michaels Page A

shadow of the tablecloth. “Sucks.”
    “Maybe. Or it just is what it is.”
    “If I tell Daisy any of this, she's going to be working hard to fix you up.” Daisy would be horrified by Jim's lack of romance. Horrified.
    Jim looked panicked. “Please don't do that, or is this some sort of 'semi-husband and wife, we spill everything' deal?” Love & Loyalty
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    “Wow, good call.”
    “Why don't you marry her ?”
    “Well, for starters, she's already married. Also, her lady parts are of no interest to me.”
    “She's married?”
    “Yeah.” Griffin squirmed. Maybe he should shut up, ask for the check.
    Talking about his love life was slightly less dangerous than mouthing off about Daisy's. Not that Jim was going to excuse himself to call Inside Edition , but still. “For a long time, actually. It's complicated.” Griffin looked at Jim, who was clearly waiting for more.
    “He owns the studio I work for. Bright Side.” Griffin tried not to roll the words around in his mouth unpleasantly. Scaring Jim—and therefore Ed Kelly—off would be a disaster.
    “So he's involved in Ed's movie?”
    “No. That's a side project for Daisy and I.” Was that too quick? Too obviously a semi-lie?
    “I don't know what that means.”
    “Like…a part-time job.”
    “Like a paper route.”
    “Yes, you're a paper route to me.”
    “No, Ed is a paper route to you. I'm Old Man Jenkins yelling for you to get off my lawn.”

    * * * * *
There was flirting, and then there was Jim cracking jokes. Or making jokelike statements. Griffin swallowed his tongue and searched around for the elusive Raul, who swooped in and saved the day by appearing and disappearing with Griffin's coveted Black Amex.
    Jim watched him from across the table, wary and amused.

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    “I don't think I'm quite sober yet,” he said, his voice slightly strained.
    “Think I'll take you up on that walk.”
    “Good idea.” Griffin stared into the shadows, sidelong glances telling him that Jim was watching him.
    “What time is your flight back?”
    Griffin rolled his tongue around for a moment. “Don't have a ticket yet. I was playing it by ear.”
    Jim was quiet. “You got a hotel room?”
    “Nope.”
    More silence.

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    Chapter Eight

    Raul dropped off the snazzy black leather folder, and Griffin busied himself leaving a show-off tip and signing his name with a flourish.
    “Let's go,” Jim said, already standing up and brushing off his suit.
    “Fresh air will do me good,” Griffin mumbled.
    They managed to find their way out of the dark maze, smelling fresh air and freedom and privacy. At least that's what Griffin was going by. He thought maybe Jim was just using his cop instincts.
    No use in overplaying his hand—maybe the question about the hotel room was just Jim being polite.
    The valet walked over as soon as they hit the cool, crisp night air. Griffin breathed deeply as Jim said they were walking around the block and would be right back.
    He said this with a twenty-dollar bill. Then he started walking, and Griffin followed, moving his legs into an awkward jog to catch up.
    “Don't leave without me,” he said, and Jim slowed down slightly, looking at him with a touch of surprise.
    “Sorry.” He shook his head and laughed awkwardly. “I think I've forgotten how to walk leisurely.”
    “Wanna lean leisurely?” Griffin eyed a deeply shadowed doorway, a shop closed for the night.
    “Not sure that'll clear my head.”
    Another pass at flirting. Griffin all but knocked him against the brick wall of the store as they reached it.

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    “Ah, fuck it,” he said as they collided. Jim caught his weight, impacting the wall against his back as Griffin went in for a kiss.
    Jim was surprised but alert enough, apparently, to catch Griffin and open his mouth at the same time.
    Score.
    Major score, because Jim's body felt exactly as good as Griffin imagined, rock hard under that sad gray suit. His mouth was