Chapter Ten #9
“Yeah.” Flynn took another drink, shoulders loosening by degrees. “It’s always insane for me. Just different levels of it. Honestly, if Zack had thrown a breadbasket at my head and told me to leave, I would’ve understood.”
“He adores you,” Colton said.
“Flynn’s brows jumped. “He does?”
Colton grinned. “You’re kinda hard not to like, brother-in-law.”
“Half,” Flynn replied.
“Not in this family. Peace.”
Colton pushed to his feet, chair legs scraping over the floor. He tucked the note bag carefully under one arm, put the chair back, then braced a hand on the table. “I’m heading out. Sorry about your wrong orders. It’s my mate’s special talent.”
“Tell him he’s thriving in chaos,” Flynn said.
“He already knows.” Colton clapped Zavier once on the shoulder. “Keep me updated.”
Then he was moving toward the front with that same easy confidence that never looked like effort. Which fooled some into testing that effortless stride. They always found out the hard way.
Zavier slid his gaze toward Flynn.
Despite the breakfast they'd eaten before leaving the apartment, Flynn was digging into the biscuits and gravy like he was starving. Steam curled up around his mate’s shoulders, softening the edges of his features for a second.
His hair was purposely messy, and the dark lashes against his cheek when he glanced down made possessive pull tight in Zavier’s gut.
Mine.
A soft growl rumbled through his tiger. In fact, it hadn’t stopped since finding that note. Zavier was just as pissed, but his cat needed to chill.
“You’re really eating that?” Zavier sat forward. Flynn’s morning dew scent curled around his senses, and he greedily inhaled.
Glancing up, Flynn pointed his fork at Zavier. “You say that like you aren’t one deep breath away from making out with your French toast. No judgement, but it might get messy.”
The powdered sugar and fruit compote covered most of his plate. Cavities were already forming just from being in proximity. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert wearing a disguise.”
His mate wore a shit-eating grin. “Says the guy hovering a little too closely. Go ahead. You know you wanna eat it. Look how sexy those strawberries are drowning in such syrupy goodness.”
Swear to god, if Zavier started blushing, he was never eating in public with his mate again.
Liar. You’d blush a hundred times over just to be near him.
Tinges of pink and red blossomed across Flynn’s delicate features. Zavier wanted to strip his mate just to see how far it had traveled down his body.
Color returning was a good sign. Even if it was temporary, his mate wasn’t thinking about that damn note. His shoulders were relaxed, and he was making eye contact and engaging with others.
Good.
Zanier cut a piece of French toast then took a bite. Sweet, rich, and softer than he’d expected. Zavier was about to smash it. “That’s obnoxiously good.”
Flynn gasped and sat back. “I knew it!”
“You knew nothing.” Zavier ate two more pieces, savoring every bite.
“No shame in moaning over food. If there was, I would be the most shameful guy in town.”.” Flynn jabbed his fork in Zavier’s direction again, more animated now. “Big, growly, muscly man judges breakfast like he’s a food critic, then gets seduced by cinnamon.”
A laugh broke from Zavier. “You talk too much.”
“No shame in moaning over food. If there was, I would be the most shameful guy in town.”.” Flynn jabbed his fork in Zavier’s direction again, more animated now. “Big, growly, muscly man judges breakfast like he’s a food critic, then gets seduced by cinnamon.”
A laugh broke from Zavier. “You talk too much.”
“And yet you keep listening.” Flynn scooped up gravy with another torn-off piece of biscuit, then paused. “Try this.”
He held the fork out halfway across the table, grinning like a fool, leaving Zavier sucker punch at the sight of his mate offering him food. Staring into his green eye, Zavier slid his lips over the tines, his tongue darting out to catch a drop of gravy.
Flynn’s lips parted, gaze focused on Zavier’s mouth as he chewed.
“Good?” Flynn asked, bubbling with anticipation.
Zavier sat back. “Made better by the person feeding it to me.”
“Flirt.” Flynn glanced down at his own plate, fingers strangling the fork.
The knife slid effortlessly through the French toast and pool of syrup. Zavier cut off a triangle of French toast, making sure there was a strawberry included, then held it out. “Your turn, kitten.”
Flynn stared at the fork with a crinkled nose. “That is a very intimate amount of powdered sugar.”
“It’s one bite.”
“There you go again, charming me into something, Mr. Ariotto.” His mate smiled across the table. “You are such a bad influence. My potted plants are going to wilt aggressively at you.”
Zavier chuckled, completely enchanted by
The words were said teasingly, but Zavier felt them settle inside as he kept his hand steady.
After a beat, Flynn leaned forward and took the bite. His lips brushed the fork, and that tiny contact sent heat straight to Zavier cock. He wanted to spread Flynn over the table and lick syrup from his squirming body.
Chewing, Flynn closed his eyes for half a second. “Okay. That’s criminal.”
“Couldn’t believe how good it was either.”
Flynn swallowed and licked a smear of powdered sugar from his lower lip. Zavier had to look at his coffee before he did something reckless in the middle of a diner. “I hate when you’re right. You’re very smug about it.”
“I’m not smug,” Zavier argued.
Flynn laughed under his breath. “You’re sitting there built like a felony in a fitted T-shirt while pretending you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. That’s smug.”
Zavier took another swallow of coffee. “You say wild shit with a straight face.”
“That was not wild. That was observational science.” Flynn cut into the eggs he hadn’t ordered and frowned at them. “These are the fluffiest scrambled eggs I’ve ever seen.”
Zavier watched him stab at the plate and wanted, absurdly, to keep him in this booth all day. Let the world narrow to coffee, diner noise, and his mate talking himself around the edge of panic.
“You’re settling faster than I expected,” Zavier said.
Flynn shrugged, but the motion lacked the brittle edge from earlier. “Panic burns hot and fast. Sarcasm is renewable.” He glanced up. “Also, being around Zack helps. Colton too, weirdly. You definitely help. Might even be at the top of my list.”
His mate’s fork stopped midway to his mouth. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“That is such bullshit.” Flynn set the fork down and leaned on the table a little. “You got all quiet and your eyes did a weird, googly thing.”
The man had no idea what he did to him. How hard it had been to act professional when all Zavier wanted to do was wrap his mate in his arms.
He let his gaze hold. “Googly?”
Color rose along Flynn’s cheekbones. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Nothing weird about flirting, little kitty.”
A choked laugh escaped his mate, then he dropped his forehead into one hand. “You cannot say things like that while I’m holding gravy.”
“Why not?”
“Because I suck at flirting. Horribly. I’ll have you changing your zip code.”
Ohio g turned Zavier on more that when his mate became flustered and blushed. Like a drug shot straight into Zavier’s veins.
Fucking adorable.
Zavier smiled into his mug, so damn pleased. Before finding his mate, he’d thrown himself into his work, rarely coming up for air. It was the only way to numb the loneliness. To forget his forever person was still out there somewhere.
He’d taken jobs across the globe, expanding his search. And all it had taken was a phone call from his former boss. Now here he was, seated across from the man he’d searched centuries for.
Flynn was everything Zavier could’ve hoped for. The way Flynn’s mind worked fascinated him.
The human had no idea the lengths Zavier would go through to keep him safe and happy.
Flynn lifted his head then tilted it. “You know, when Colton said I was getting a bodyguard, I really wasn’t expecting this.”
“This?” Xavier sipped his coffee then set the mug down.
“You.” Flynn gestured at him. “The whole package. Competent. Bossy. Looks like an escaped romance cover. Possibly a rogue pirate.”
“You flirting with your bodyguard, Mr. Dunkin?”
A slow smile curve Flynn’s mouth, making his lips even more tempting than they already were. “Depends. Is Colton getting a discount if I do?”
“No.”
“Heartless.”
“Sue me.”
Flynn held his gaze, then his eyes darted away.
The sight of that private little expression was getting harder to ignore.
Attraction had been there from the second he’d walked into the bookstore, then the pull had struck, and Zavier had been a goner.
But there was more to how he felt. Now it had texture.
Flynn’s humor. His nerves. The way he tried to protect himself with words and still kept offering pieces of the truth anyway.
Zack breezed by with a fresh pot of coffee, pausing long enough to top off both mugs. “You two okay?”
“We have accepted our breakfast fate,” Flynn said solemnly, but the lip twitch gave it away.
Zack snorted and moved on, apron strings swinging behind him.
Once he was gone, Flynn picked up his fork again. “So what happens next?”
Xavier rested an arm on the back of the booth, gazing out at the early-morning traffic. The town moved at a slow pace, completely unaware of the apex predators walking among them.
But there was one who was tracking Flynn, learning him, and possibly spiraling because Flynn was no longer an easy target. Spiraling because the bastard didn’t know what Flynn was doing with his bodyguard.
Things would escalate. The guy would become careless. That would make him even more dangerous.
Time was running out and Zavier was no closer to learning their identity.
You go to work. I watch your back. We act like it’s a normal day. Like that note meant nothing.”