Chapter Two
The smoke curled up from the grill and drifted into the early evening air, carrying the rich and savory aroma of charring fat and something herbaceous that Indy couldn’t immediately identify.
Whatever it was, it smelled obscenely good.
So did Malik. He stood at the grill with the kind of ease that suggested he’d done this a thousand times, one hand resting on the handle, the other turning a steak with tongs.
The man’s good looks were unfair. That was the only word for it.
Six feet and five inches of unfair, wearing a soft grey T-shirt that had absolutely no business fitting the way it did across his shoulders.
Every time Malik reached over to adjust something on the grill, his arm flexed, making Indy’s cock perk up like it was time to party.
Glancing around from where he sat on the deck steps, Indy realized the backyard was bigger than it looked from the house, with a wide stretch of grass that faded into a row of old oaks at the property line.
String lights ran along the fence in unlit loops, the kind that probably looked pretty when turned on.
A few mismatched chairs were scattered across the deck. It was cozy.
“How do you take your meat?” Malik asked without turning around.
His…meat? Indy slowly backed away from the horrible pun before it accidently detonated.
“Medium.” Indy cleared his throat then his brows shot up. “Actually, medium rare. I always say medium because it feels like the polite answer, but then I’m always slightly disappointed.”
Malik looked over his shoulder, and the corner of his mouth curved. Not a full smile, but something that got partway there, and Indy felt it land somewhere in the middle of his sternum like a warm hand pressed flat.
Pushing from the steps, Indy lowered himself into a wooden deck chair, which brought him a little closer to his mate.
“Medium rare,” Malik repeated and turned back to the grill.
“See, now you know my deepest truth,” Indy teased. “I lie about meat temperatures to seem agreeable. What does that say about me as a person?”
“That you care what people think.”
“Complete and utter lie,” Indy said in a singsong voice before pulling his knees up onto the chair, making himself smaller, which wasn’t difficult given everything in this yard seemed scaled to someone considerably larger than him. “You could’ve just told me it says I’m considerate.”
“Could have.”
“But you didn’t,” Indy huffed.
“Nope.” Malik reached for a tea towel on the side shelf, and the motion was so languid that Indy found himself mesmerized by the way his mate’s hands moved.
Large hands. Careful hands, the way he’d held the box of dogs earlier.
The way he’d touched Indy’s jaw in the bedroom, slow enough that there had been time to pull away.
Indy hadn’t moved a single muscle.
But ever since Malik had spoken to Grayson their interactions felt stilted. When the cheetah returned from his meeting twenty minutes later, Indy had still been sitting in the chair in the bedroom, pretending he hadn’t been listening to the low murmur of voices through the door.
Malik had asked if he was hungry.
Indy had said yes before his brain had a chance to suggest that leaving might be the smarter option. And then, somehow, they’d ended up here, in the backyard, with steaks on the grill and the evening growing gold around the edges.
It was easy talking to Malik. It shouldn’t have been, given that he’d led demons directly to the flower shop, but it was. The banter came naturally, fitting together the way the timing between two people could sometimes just work, and Indy kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
There was always a falling shoe.
But so far, the skies were clear of footwear.
Malik crouched beside Indy’s chair and dug out something from the cooler he hadn’t noticed until now. His mate was close enough that Indy could see the line of Malik’s jaw and the way his lashes were longer than seemed entirely necessary. His arm brushed Indy’s knee as he straightened.
Brief. Probably accidental.
Indy’s fox did not treat it as accidental. It was already halfway feral.
“You’re quieter than earlier.” The wood groaned as Malik settled his muscular frame in the chair beside him.
“I talk a lot when I’m nervous. I’m recalibrating.” Indy wiggled his hand between them like it was boneless. “This is my normal volume. You should be relieved.”
“I wasn’t complaining.” The deep timbre of Malik’s voice rolled softly over Indy, the sound rich and decadent, as if his mate were savoring every syllable. But it was the heated way Malik’s eyes had mapped Indy’s body that had nearly turned him into a drooling mess.
Until the softest purr rumbled from deep in Malik’s broad chest. “Are you a naughty little fox?”
“I’m a resourceful vulpine.” Indy hid his smirk as Malik arched a brow, neither of them willing to break eye contact first. “Vulpine means—”
“Fox.” The moment stretched, Malik’s intense focus locked on Indy’s mouth like his mate was already tasting him. As much as Indy wanted to kiss those soft-looking lips, he was just as eager for answers.
Like why Malik was running from demons, and whether this was something fixable or one of those relocating, no-forwarding-address, trying-to-remember-your-new-name kind of deals? Indy was pretty flexible as long as he had all the facts.
Then he would kiss the blazes out of his sexy cheetah. He was already hot and bothered from hearing his mate purr. If Indy waited much longer to ask some very important questions, his clothes would vanish and his ass would be up and lubed. Strictly voluntary and shamelessly willing.
Leaning in slightly, Indy closely scrutinized his mate, eyes flicking over smooth skin and Malik’s facial hair, a full beard Indy was dying to run his fingers through.
“You notice things.” He studied the sharp angles of Malik’s face, certain he was right.
Since meeting the cheetah, Indy had learned a thing or two about his mate.
Small things, like how Malik could go so still when concentrating that he practically vanished into the background.
Indy envied that talent. “You seem to notice a lot of things, pussycat.”
Malik met his gaze, and the words that followed made the deck tilt, the sincerity palpable. “I noticed you.”
The words shot straight to Indy’s cock and his entire thought process derailed for a full three seconds. Possibly ten. He couldn’t understand how three simple words could occupy entirely too much space when the right person said them.
Even better when the person was your mate.
The perfect reply popped into Indy’s head, but a prickling sensation made him loudly hiss. Fortunately, a well-timed cacophony of crickets drowned out the sound.
It started at the back of his head and spread outward, the distinct animal awareness that he was being watched. His fox stood rigid, instincts focusing attention on the property line like a compass needle finding north.
Indy quietly glanced around, his gaze sliding toward the oak trees at the far end of the yard. Then his eyes drifted casually across the fence line. Nothing moved. No shapes. No faces. The yard was exactly as empty as it had been five minutes ago.
Malik was focused on the grill, but the house kept drawing his attention. Through the kitchen window Indy could see the shapes of his mate’s friends moving casually around.
No one but Indy seemed to notice something was off.
Which made him wonder if an active threat really was staring them down or paranoia was taking root.
Maybe his Spidey senses were reacting to a nosy neighbor watching from a window or someone walking their pet who’d paused long enough to sound Indy’s bells.
There was even a possibility that absolutely nothing was wrong and his fox was still spooked, making him see storms where only rainbows existed.
Hours later, he still couldn’t shake that oily feeling he’d had in the flower shop when those two figures had stood on the sidewalk across the street.
The wrongness of them. The way every hair on his body had tried to stand up and his fox had screamed to escape in a frequency Indy still felt in his back teeth.
This wasn’t that. This was softer. Less certain.
But he was sure his Spidey senses were tingling for a reason.
Uncrossing his legs, he set his feet on the deck, a small adjustment but one that put him in a better position to move if he needed to.
His gaze slid toward the oak trees. The evening light glowed amber, shadows creeping along the thick branches until he couldn’t see past the line of trunks into whatever was beyond them.
It could be a neighbor or a cat on a fence post. It could be the strange way his brain had decided to process the stress by inventing surveillance where there was none.
Maybe it wasn’t any of those things and he was just cracking under stress.
After picking up his glass of water, he took a sip, keeping his expression easy.
Malik’s low voice interrupted the tense stretch of silence. “You just went somewhere.”
The cheetah wasn’t looking at the trees. He was staring at Indy, his expression attentive like he’d been watching for a while.
“Went somewhere?” Indy was not a convincing liar.
“You got tense.” Malik’s gaze swept over him, eyes filled with concern.
Did he also think Indy was having a nervous breakdown? A huff morphed into a laugh, suggesting Indy was fine and everything was fine and he definitely wasn’t fine.
“I think I’m still running on adrenaline from earlier,” he said.
“My nervous system hasn’t figured out that the emergency portion of the day is over.
It’s very committed.” He waved a hand in the direction of the trees, so done with today.
“Thought I felt something, but it’s nothing. I’m just frazzled.”
“And your feet.”
Indy glanced at his own feet. He’d been tapping one of them unconsciously against the deck step in a rapid, irregular rhythm. He stilled it. “I’m just cold. They do that when I’m chilly.”
His mate was entirely too observant for Indy’s comfort. “It’s seventy degrees.”
“I run cold.” He met Malik’s gaze and kept his voice perfectly level. “Fox thing. Small mammal. You know, heat regulation is a pain in the ass.” He smiled, easy and light…and definitely strained.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re so quiet.”
For half a second, Indy’s jaw tightened before he got it under control. His smile remained, but felt slightly crooked on his face. “You know, for a guy who’s been tightlipped about the details surrounding your dilemma, you’re awfully quick to ask me to share.”
Something darkened in Malik’s expression.
“You can tell me what’s going on,” his mate said.
“I could.” Indy gave a nod. “Or you could tell me why a pair of demons were hunting you, and then we’d both be sharing.” He pulled the shirt back up his arm. “Seems like a fair deal. Information for information. Very democratic.”
Malik’s expression didn’t change. “It’s complicated.”
“You said that before.” Indy narrowed his eyes.
“Funny how it’s complicated when I ask but suddenly an easy request when you ask.
” He let a beat pass. “I’m a florist, Malik.
I arrange peonies for weddings, and I worry about whether my lavender is getting enough drainage.
If you’re not going to explain the reason, I don’t have to explain why I looked at some trees. ”
The silence that followed had weight to it.
Indy kept his expression neutral, but his fox was scowling at the cheetah.
This was the same crap Indy’s father had pulled his entire life.
“Everything’s fine, Indy. Daddy’ll handle it,” or “It’s nothing you need to worry about.
” Indy hated being dismissed, especially when it involved his safety.
Without a word, Malik stood and went back to the grill, and Indy considered that a draw.
He looked at the oak trees one more time before turning away. The feeling had faded or at least gone quiet. Whatever it had been, it wasn’t announcing itself anymore, and Indy wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.
The steaks came off the grill a few minutes later, and Malik carried both plates to the small table at the edge of the deck.
He set one in front of the chair beside him then looked at Indy with an expression that wasn’t quite an invitation and not quite a command but landed somewhere between the two.
Indy got up and sat down at the table.
Because the steak smelled extraordinary, he told himself. Because he’d been running on nothing since this morning, and if he didn’t eat, he would pass out.
And because it meant spending more time with his mate. His fox was calm, which it rarely was outdoors, lulled by Malik’s closeness into something almost embarrassingly content.