Sinful Deception (Mayet Justice #15)

Minka

MINKA

“ W hy are so many people in my apartment?” I stalk through the mouth of the hallway and enter my too-full living room. It’s barely seven in the damn morning, but already, Fletch stands at my kitchen counter with a coffee mug steaming hot and just full enough to make him smirk. Cato throws a basketball from his position on the couch, tossing it up and catching it when it arcs down again. Mia perches on the coffee table, watching him with pure glee in her eyes. And Aubree dances across the living room on her way to the coffee machine now that Fletch’s is done. “So many friggin’ people,” I groan. “So much noise.”

“You’re literally the only person talking.” Aubree snags a mug from the cupboard and places it at the spout of the machine. “And why is who here? Fletch and Mia? Cato?”

“You.” I’d like to pretend I’m crusty-eyed and tired, fried on a brand-new Monday morning and unable to gather my thoughts. But really, this is just who I am, and Archer Malone already rang my bell this morning.

My favorite way to wake up.

“I’m talking to you, Emeri. Because Cato practically lives here, and Fletch is Malone’s guest. Not my problem.”

“I do live here,” Cato grumbles. “ Literally . Not practically. Your refusal to acknowledge this is hurtful to my sensitivities.”

Aubree grins and hooks a thumb his way. “He has sensitivities. And I’m here because Tim isn’t a morning person.”

“Gag.” I start toward the kitchen because I need coffee, too. But the idea of standing in line in my own damn home is ridiculous, so I hip-bump my second aside and take her cup when it’s full. “Aubree and Timothy, sitting in the tree.”

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” she sings, reaching up for another mug. “I’m not ashamed. I have a boyfriend now, so?—”

“You have more than a boyfriend,” Archer inserts on a low rumble, stepping out of the hall as I turn and smirking when our eyes meet. “But that’s between you and the contracts you’ve signed, Doctor Emeri.” He stalks my way and wraps me up, his hand snaking around to my back and his lips peppering against mine until I happily sigh. “Morning, Minnnka.”

“Hey.” I kiss him back and ignore the parroted ‘ gag ’ behind me. “You smell good.”

Humming, he buries his lips against the side of my neck and inhales. “You, too.” But then he pulls away and takes a moment to look Aubree up and down. “Shall we call you Doctor Malone or…?”

“Absolutely not.” I settle back against the counter while Archer waits for his caffeine fix. “If you wanted to have a Doctor Malone in the family, then one of you should have gone to medical school. You didn’t.”

“Thus,” Aubree continues smugly. “Doctor Emeri suits me just fine. What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Catching killers,” Fletch teases. “Bedding broads. Same as usual.”

“Uh-huh.” Aubree pouts when Archer takes her coffee for himself. But he reaches up and grabs a third mug, just for her. “How many broads have been in your bed lately, Detective Fletcher? I didn’t realize Fifi ever left the office. Or took your calls.”

His smirk drops to a scowl in an instant.

But so does mine, though for different reasons. “Don’t even talk about that head-hunting, asset-swiping, no good scoundrel inside my home. Justin Lawrence is a bastard, and I forbid you from even mentioning his name while in my company.”

“You sound grumpy, Aunty .” Mia vibrates with joy when Cato passes the ball to her. “Being grumpy is no fun.”

“Yeah, Aunty .” Archer hooks his finger in the loop of my pants and pulls me in to settle against his chest. “Being grumpy is no fun.”

“He stole my Fifi!”

“Ages ago,” Aubree argues. “That was so last year.”

“It’s January ninth,” I snarl. “Last year is basically this year. There is no statute of limitations, as far as I’m concerned.”

Eagerly, Mia straightens on the coffee table. Her entire body brightens, her chest expanding, and her hair bouncing. “Did you talk to Fifi this week?” But when I shake my head, negative kiddo, she huffs and shrinks again. “I wish she still worked wif you. I don’t get to see her anymore.”

Yeah. That was the idea.

“I’ll call her when I get to work.” I offer a smile when her eyes come up again. “Promise. And I’ll tell her you said hey.”

“It was supposed to be a clean break,” Aubree coughs, not so subtly. “That means no passing of messages.”

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t agree to this stupid plan.” I rest against Archer’s chest, my ear over his heart and my pulse slowing to match his after only a moment of listening. “I’m calling her because I have questions about work, anyway.”

“So ask Callen. That’s her job.”

“You’re gonna be out of a job if you don’t stop Fifi-blocking me.” I bring my coffee up and take a smiling sip. “Family relations count for nothing at work, and you’re not promised a job simply because we share matching jewelry.”

“Make the call.” She reaches into the cupboard and takes down a to-go coffee cup, then lifting her freshly filled mug, she pours the contents inside and quickly works to wipe up the spilled excess before it dribbles off the counter and onto the floor. “Not my circus, Boss. Keep reopening those old wounds. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“It will be.” But I’m done discussing the matter with her, so I turn to Archer and lean back just far enough to search his eyes. “Active cases?”

“We always have something going on, but Fletch and I closed the Merren homicide on Friday, so we’re free and clear until something fresh rolls in. I’ll take a look at some unsolved files until Lieutenant Fabian tosses something our way.” He leans in and presses a smiling kiss to the dimple on my cheek. “You?”

“Same. I’ll work through pending files and see what I can close out. Then we’ll have rounds. Doctor Patten will have stacked a bunch of bodies for us overnight. That’s my job unless, and until, you call us with something new.”

“It almost sounds like you prefer the bodies that are still warm,” Cato mocks. “Little Miss Justice-Matters prefers fresh death over old paperwork. Charming.”

“Shut up, Mafia Boy. You’re still in school. Let the grownups speak.”

Wide-eyed, he looks to Mia for sympathy. “Do you see how mean she is to me? Did you ever hear such disrespect?”

“She’s never mean to me!” Laughing, she bounces the ball and swipes it closer when Cato fakes an attempt to steal it. “She saves her mean for you. And Daddy. And Uncle Archer, too!”

“She saves plenty for me.” Grabbing my jaw, Archer spins me around and stares down into my eyes. “It’s our wedding anniversary next month. Wanna go to Jamaica?”

“Good lord.” I turn out of his arms and escape his grip before he convinces me to take another vacation. In the midst of a freezing winter. Then I head to the couch and sit on the edge so I can slide my feet into my shoes and bend to fix the buckles. “We’re not celebrating two anniversaries every year, are we? Remembering one is already going to be an issue.”

“We have a winter anniversary. And a summer anniversary. I hardly think that’s excessive.”

“Never mind the fact the first anniversary is also on his birthday,” Aubree quips. “Should we add reminders to your phone so you don’t forget your husband’s day of birth, Chief?”

“What did I say about getting fired?”

She zips her lips in an instant, blushing and hiding behind her mug. So I shake my head and work on my shoes, one-handed.

“We can ignore the February anniversary and give that day back to you,” I huff. “And we can keep the summer anniversary where we actually celebrate.”

“Or we can keep both,” he counters playfully. “Because I like to celebrate you all the time.”

Aubree forgets her vow of silence, poking a finger into her mouth instead and gagging. “He’s too sweet for you, Mayet. It’s like Gomez Addams married Dolores Umbridge.”

“I don’t…” Clueless, I glance up and look from her to Archer. “Who?”

“Forget it,” he chuckles, pushing away from the counter and crossing our tiny apartment. He kneels in front of me, setting his coffee on the table beside a beaming Mia, then works on my second shoe and fixes the buckle with gentle hands. “If I’m Gomez, you’re Morticia. Don’t worry about Dolores.”

“Who the hell is Dolores?”

“His sidepiece,” Cato taunts. “But don’t worry, he saves his affections for you.” He makes a goofy face for Mia. “You want me to take you to school today, McStinkerson? I’m heading that way.”

“My name is Mia! Not McStinkerson.”

“This is way too much noise and far too many people for this hour of the day.”

“Drink your coffee.” Archer finishes with my shoe and places his fingers beneath my mug, gently guiding it higher. “Caffeine will make you happier. Don’t worry about birthday or anniversary stuff yet. It’s a long way out.”

“You’re the one who brought it up!”

“That was my mistake.” He moves to his feet but remains crouched, resting his free hand on my thigh and looking up into my eyes. He’s so handsome. So perfect, despite my glaring flaws. His eyes are emeralds, far more valuable than the stone-encrusted charm he gifted me on our wedding day. But his smile… that’s what he gives me. Daily. His love. His acceptance. “Take it easy today, okay? There’s no need to run head-first into this week when you have an entire staff to delegate out first.”

“I like working with the bodies.” I cup his stubbled jaw and thrill in the way he leans into it, exactly how cats lean in to their owner’s touch. “I especially like working them with you. So if you catch a case…”

He kisses my wrist. “I’ll call my favorite medical examiner team.” Finally, he pops tall and looks at Fletch. “Ready to go? We have a mountain of paperwork to get through before Fabian sends us back on to the street.”

“Yep.” He chugs whatever is left of his coffee, then turns and sets the empty cup in the sink. “You sure you’re good with Mia, Cato?”

“Mia, who? Oh, you mean McStinkerson? Yeah.” He wrinkles his nose at the girl. “I got her. She’s the best chick magnet ever.”

“Stop using my daughter to trick women into something they’re not ready for.” Fletch crosses the apartment and circles Archer and the couch, then he yanks his daughter into his arms and noisily kisses her cheek. “Warn every single woman he talks to that he’s no good, Moo. He’s a rat, and they’re best to walk away before they’re in too deep.”

“Don’t be passive-aggressive, Detective.” Cato stands as well, stealing the girl from her father’s arms and flashing a sneaky middle finger where Mia can’t see. “We’re gonna hit up the diner first because Uncle Cato wants scrambled eggs, and the server is cute as hell. Then I’ll send the bill to your daddy because I enjoy being an annoying rat .”

“You’re so silly.” Mia swings around, halfheartedly reaching out for Fletch. But she clings to Cato, too. “He’s got me, Daddy! You can go to work.”

“Miss Penny will get you from school, okay?” He takes out his trilling phone and scans the screen just long enough to make me wonder if the detectives already have a new case, but then he silences the device and pays attention to his daughter instead. “Don’t step outside that school till Miss Penny has you, okay?”

“I won’t.” She squeals when Cato bends to grab his backpack, practically dangling the girl upside down. But then he straightens again and mock-slams the basketball to her belly for her to carry.

“Let’s go, McStinkerson. The eggs are calling to my belly, and the waitress smiles extra big when I bring you along. I get all the single-dad perks, without doing any of the work.”

For the third time today, Aubree gags.

“Come on.” Archer takes my hand and pulls me up to stand, bringing me just a little closer until we’re hugging. “The apartment will be quiet tonight. Cato has a late class, and Fletch and Aubree have the good sense to stay away. Date night, Mayet. Just me and you.”

“Thank God. Deal.” I stand on my toes and kiss the underside of his jaw. “Thanks for this morning.”

He grins that way he does that makes my knees a little weak and my stomach jump with nerves. Because he knows exactly what I’m thankful for. Then he taps my chin with the pad of his thumb and winks. “My pleasure.”

“Good lord,” Fletch growls. “Can we stop with the happy-happy bullshit? It’s nauseating.”

“Go to work, Detectives.” I roll my eyes and grudgingly stand on my own as Archer turns away. “Don’t get hurt. I’m sick of seeing one of you wrapped in bandages.”

“My leg is mostly healed.” Fletch makes a show of limping toward the door. “Hardly need my cane anymore.”

“Can I have it?” Aubree questions slyly. “So I can smack you with it.”