Chapter 7
Lina’s inner cat wanted to hiss with embarrassment, but her human side knew the only thing to do was brazen it out. She lifted her hand and waved back at the old ladies, trying for casual and probably achieving awkward.
The women resumed their walk, heads bent together in what was undoubtedly going to be a very interesting conversation about the mysterious young woman staying at the empty house.
Great. Just great.
Lina grabbed her bag from the trunk and locked the car, then hurried back up the walkway. She was almost to the front door when it swung open.
And there was Liam.
Shirtless.
Lina’s brain short-circuited.
He stood in the doorway, one muscular shoulder propped against the frame, his phone pressed to his ear.
Golden morning light slanted across his chest, highlighting the defined planes of muscle, the faint scars that marked his warrior’s body.
His hair was sleep-mussed, falling across his forehead in a way that made her fingers itch to brush it back.
“Uh-huh,” he was saying into the phone, his voice still rough with sleep. “Yeah, I understand. We’ll be there at nine sharp, Mrs. Peabody. Thank you for making time for us.”
His gaze tracked Lina’s progress up the walk, and even while he was clearly focused on his phone conversation, she felt the weight of his attention like a physical touch. A slow smile curved his lips as he took in her bare feet, rumpled clothes, and the bag clutched in her hand.
He knew exactly how this looked. And he was enjoying her discomfort.
Lina lifted her chin and marched past him into the house with as much dignity as she could muster, which wasn’t much at the moment. She was acutely aware of him behind her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his bare skin, and smell the clean, masculine scent of him.
“Yes, ma’am,” Liam continued, his tone respectful, but his eyes dancing with amusement as he watched Lina. “We’re very grateful for your help. See you soon.”
He ended the call and lowered the phone, his smile widening into a full grin. “Were you out for a morning walk?”
“I needed my bag,” she said defensively, setting it down on the kitchen table with perhaps more force than necessary. “From my car.”
“Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms over that distractingly bare chest. “And you just happened to run into the neighborhood watch?”
“That’s not funny. Those little old ladies probably think—” She stopped, heat rushing to her face again.
“Think what?” He was definitely enjoying this now, the bastard. “That you spent the night here having wild jungle sex with me?”
Her face flamed at the image his words painted in her mind. “That I spent the night here, yes,” she finally said, clarifying his statement and ignoring the wild jungle sex comment.
What even was wild jungle sex? Her people were from cold climates. She didn’t know much about the jungle, the type of sex they had there, or anything else, really.
“But you did spend the night here.”
“You know what I mean.” She glared at him, trying very hard not to let her gaze drift south of his collarbone. “They think something happened between us.”
“Something did happen.” His expression sobered slightly, though the glint of humor remained in his eyes. “We worked a case together, nearly got blown up, and ate midnight snacks. Quite a lot happened, actually.”
“That’s not—” She huffed out a breath, knowing she was being ridiculous but unable to stop herself. “They’re witches, aren’t they? Those ladies?”
“Probably.” Liam moved to the coffee maker and started it brewing with practiced efficiency, apparently unconcerned about his state of undress.
“This neighborhood is mostly coven members and their families. Word will get back to Mrs. Peabody before we even arrive at her house, that there was a strange woman at the empty house at dawn. They all know I’ve been granted leave to use this house, so they’ll know you were with me. ”
“Perfect.” Lina dropped into a chair, her embarrassment giving way to resignation. “Our first meeting with a powerful coven elder, and she’s going to think I’m...”
“Working with me on a case?” Liam turned to face her, his expression gentle now. “Which is exactly what you are doing. Lina, they’re not going to judge you. If anything, they’ll be thrilled to know you’re taking Mrs. E seriously enough to work around the clock.”
She wanted to believe him, but her inner beast was still bristling with discomfort at being observed, and being gossiped about. Solitary cats didn’t do well with that kind of social scrutiny.
Liam seemed to sense her continued unease. He pulled two mugs from the cabinet and filled them with fresh coffee, then brought one to her. As he set it on the table, he rested his other hand briefly on her shoulder. The touch was warm and grounding.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Nothing happened. We both know that. And honestly? What anyone else thinks doesn’t matter.”
She looked up at him, at the kindness in his eyes, and felt something in her chest loosen. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”
“You’re being human. Or, well, lynx. Whatever.” His smile was warm. “Go take your shower. I’ll make breakfast. We’ve got plenty of time before we need to leave.”
“You’re cooking now?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t sound so surprised. I make excellent scrambled eggs.” He paused. “Actually, they’re mediocre scrambled eggs. But they’re edible, and that’s what counts.”
Despite everything, Lina laughed. “Okay. Mediocre eggs sound perfect.”
She grabbed her bag and headed for the stairs, feeling his gaze on her back the whole way. At the landing, she glanced over her shoulder and caught him watching her, his expression unguarded for just a moment.
The heat in his eyes made her pulse skip.
Then he seemed to catch himself and turned back to the kitchen with a slight shake of his head, as if reminding himself of those same professional boundaries she kept trying to maintain.
Lina climbed the rest of the stairs with a small smile hovering around her lips. Maybe nothing had happened last night.
But something was definitely happening now.
A little more than twenty minutes later, Lina descended the stairs feeling considerably more human.
The hot shower had washed away the lingering smell of smoke and the night’s restless tension.
She’d dressed in clean black pants and a dark green top that brought out her eyes, pulled her damp hair back in a neat ponytail, and even managed a slight touch of makeup.
She thought she looked professional but approachable.
Exactly the image she wanted for the meeting with Mrs. Peabody.
The smell of coffee and something savory drew her to the kitchen, where she found Liam fully dressed now, thank goodness.
He wore dark jeans and a gray button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms. He stood at the stove, spatula in hand, tending to a pan of scrambled eggs that actually looked pretty good.
“I think you undersold your cooking skills,” she said, sliding into a chair at the table where he’d already set out plates, silverware, and a platter of toast.
“Don’t judge that until you’ve tasted them.” He divided the small mountain of scrambled eggs between their plates and brought them to the table, then retrieved the coffee pot for refills. “I may have had Meg’s lasagna to compare to last night, which lowered my confidence levels.”
Lina took a bite and had to admit they were better than mediocre. The eggs were fluffy, well-seasoned, cooked just right. “These are actually really good.”
“High praise from a federal agent.” He settled into the chair across from her with his own plate. “I’ll add acceptable egg scrambler to my resume.”
“Right under explosion survivor and midnight snack companion.” She reached for the toast. “So I heard you on the phone with Mrs. Peabody. We’re confirmed for nine?”
“We are. She sounded more, uh, formidable than I remember. I only met her briefly before.” Liam’s expression was rueful.
“Rich wasn’t kidding about her not suffering fools.
She gave me very specific instructions about arriving on time, bringing the grimoire page in its protective case, and not touching anything in her workroom without permission. ”
“Standard protocol for dealing with powerful magical artifacts, I’d imagine.” Lina sipped her coffee. “I’ve crossed paths with a few mages over the years. The serious ones tend to be very particular about their spaces and their materials.”
“Have you worked with witches before?” Interest sparked in his eyes.
“One or two. There was a case about three years ago involving a smuggling ring that was moving cursed objects across state lines. The Bureau brought in a consultant from a coven in Maryland to help identify what we were dealing with. She was pretty intense, but ultimately helpful.” Lina smiled at the memory.
“She also scared the hell out of my partner at the time when she accidentally set his notepad on fire during a demonstration.”
Liam laughed. “Accidentally?”
“That’s what she claimed. Though I’m pretty sure it was deliberate. He’d been condescending to her all morning.” Lina took another bite of eggs. “Witches don’t appreciate being talked down to, in my experience.”
“Noted. I’ll be on my best behavior with Mrs. Peabody.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the morning sun strengthening through the kitchen window and warming the small space.
Lina found herself studying Liam’s face.
He had a strong jawline, and she liked the way the light caught the gold in his eyes.
He also had a small scar above his left eyebrow that she’d noticed last night but hadn’t asked about.
Most shifters didn’t really scar unless the wound had been severe.
Something about the shifting magic tended to heal minor cuts and even breaks without leaving much evidence behind.