CHAPTER SIXTEEN SHARING IS CARING LUNA
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SHARING IS CARING
LUNA
“Isee Piper likes you,” Jury rumbled, looking between me and the telltale container I’d just put down.
I opened the lid to display all the decadent beauties.
No wonder that sucker was so heavy. It’s jam-packed.
Literally.
There’s jam oozing out of that powdered sugar cookie.
I scanned over everything and noted the fresh cookies she’d added just before I left. I’d presumed—no, I’d hoped—they were chocolate chip. I was wrong.
My lips curved down. “I thought she liked me.”
“What happened?”
It took everything in me to keep the pout from my voice. “Half these cookies are raisin.”
“Did she know you were coming here after?”
“Yes.”
With my back to him, I felt Jury’s body heat a second before his arm reached around me. His large, tattooed hand grabbed three of the cookies at once before he stepped away. “Then these are for me.”
A sneer curled my lips as I glanced over my shoulder at him. If I wasn’t so shocked and disgusted, I would’ve noticed how defined his muscles were. Or how many tattoos covered his skin. Or how many scars were puckered between the bursts of ink.
Okay, fine, I did notice. But I was hung up on the more important point. “You like raisin cookies?”
“Only kind I like. Don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”
My sneer deepened as I made a mental asterisk by his name.
I’m not saying he’s guilty of anything, but I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like sweets.
And only a true psychopath exclusively likes raisin cookies.
The advantage, of course, was that I didn’t have to worry he’d eat what I wanted. I decided to separate it out anyway, just to be safe.
I lifted onto my toes to reach over the bar to grab a couple of cocktail napkins.
“Usually,” he tacked on, reaffirming my decision.
I grabbed the jammy cookie and the cupcake Piper had made me vow to eat.
Since the strawberry cake was filled with marshmallow cream and topped with cream cheese frosting and a sprinkle of the strawberry crumble things from the ice cream bars I used to eat as a kid, it was a vow I was planning to take seriously.
I set those two aside on the napkins before gesturing to the rest. “Help yourselves.”
At my phrasing, it was his turn to glance over his shoulder to see that an unknown biker was closing in quick. The patch on his leather vest labeled him a prospect like Texas. Haze was right behind him.
I pointed out my private reserve. “These are off-limits.”
“Seems to be a theme,” Haze muttered, making Jury smile.
Kind of.
His eyes crinkled at the sides, so it was definitely smile adjacent.
Since I was betting everyone got territorial over the goods—even the raisin ones, apparently since Jury smacked Haze’s hand when he went for one—I left them to fight amongst themselves and went behind the bar for my needed hydration. “Anyone want a water?”
“See? You’ve got it down already,” Haze said. “And I’ll take a whiskey if you’re offering.”
Actually, there are far worse ways to spend the time…
Since I didn’t think my new fake boss would appreciate me getting his paid crew drunk, I just arched a brow.
And then bit back a hiss when the movement irritated the scrape on my forehead.
No one took me up on my offer to be an H2O exclusive bartender, though, so I returned to a stool on the other side.
Jury strolled closer as he knocked off the second of his three cookies in just as many bites.
It gave me the chance to study the tattoo on his chest. One that was clearly a cover-up, begging the question of what it was before it was turned into a devil.
When he was done chewing, he opened his mouth.
“Lo.”
My name didn’t come from him. I leaned to the side to see around shirtless Jury and spotted Rhys at the other end of the room. He lifted his hand and crooked a finger at me.
I would like to say that I only went because I thought he might have something important to tell me.
I would like to say that, but I couldn’t.
My feet had decided to obey his summoning before my brain caught up, and the thought didn’t hit me until I was nearly to him. “What’s up?”
He didn’t speak until we were both in his office. “Sit.”
I’m not a damn dog.
That’s what went through my head as I again obeyed without meaning to.
He was turned away from me when I sat, and his face was buried in his phone.
Summoned, ordered around, then ignored?
Maybe I was wrong, and he does get rejected a lot. His people skills need work.
I rolled my eyes as I waited for him to tell me why I was there.
“I saw that,” he rumbled in that gravelly voice.
“Do you have eyes in the back of your head?”
“Got eyes all over now.” He turned and showed me his phone screen. The footage was halting and jumpy, but it was a close-up of me. Like, so close and clear—minus the buffering—it seemed like the camera should’ve been right in front of my face.
It took me a lot longer than it should’ve to spot the small device mounted in the ceiling. If not for the ladder still under it and the flecks of particles around it, I might’ve missed it.
The equipment must’ve been high-quality. The resolution was crystal clear even at that distance. But the streaming aspect was garbage. Beyond garbage. Like trying to watch something on my phone with one signal bar.
It didn’t improve when he touched the screen to change to a view of the main room. If anything, the lag increased as we watched the MayCo guys finish their snack time.
From what I’d seen during my limited time there, the men had moved with adeptness and ease. They clearly worked well together and seemed skilled. Their equipment was high-grade.
Maybe it was the installation that was the issue. Texas had clearly just installed the office one, and the rush job might’ve been botched.
I wasn’t about to say anything, though. Not while they were still working. If they wrapped, and it still sucked, I would try to find a way to get our own techs in to fix the issue.
“What did you need?” I asked, anxious to get to my plans.
“You sitting there.”
My brows lowered. “Why?”
“So I could check the angle of the camera.”
Oh.
Yeah.
That made sense.
I started to stand as he rounded the desk to sit. We froze in a weird halfway limbo, our gazes locked.
His voice was soft yet demanding as he rumbled, “Sit.”
I did.
Again.
What is wrong with me?
“Why?” I asked again, a little late that time.
“Because they’re pulling shit apart out there, and this process will take a fuckuva lot longer with you getting in the way.”
Harsh.
I scowled at him as I thought about the building. “Then I’ll hang out in the break room. Or there’s a couch in that back room.”
“There’s a couch right under your ass,” he said as he sat and immediately started typing on his computer.
He had a point.
One that made me suspicious.
Was he trying to stop me from wandering around? Was there something he was hiding? Something that tied together all the random inconsistencies into a pretty bow that solved the case in one efficient fell swoop?
I knew it wasn’t that last part—I wasn’t that lucky—but I had no clue about the rest.
Not wanting to throw up my own warning bells that would turn the suspicion on me, I shrugged and settled back before pulling my legs up to get really comfortable. I could multitask in the office just as well as I could from out there. I would just find excuses to do a lap every so often.
In the meantime, I had business to attend to.