Possession (Fallen Angels #5)(92)
Author: J.R. Ward

Wheeling away, he took a seat across from Ad and watched the guy make a pile of cut green beans in a white enameled pot full of water.

“So how did today go?” Ad asked.

“Stayed tight with the guy. There’s bad juju all over him—frankly, it’s a hot mess. I just wanted to come home and see…”

Adrian finished things for him. “Me, of course. And I’m really touched—you’re so awesome like that. You bring me chocolates? Flowers?”

Just as Jim was about to f**k-off the guy, the other angel said softly, “I got her. You don’t have to worry.”

Jim cocked a brow. But, man, that did decrease his stress. It was one thing asking his roommate to play bodyguard, another to have him volunteer for it.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Dinner was on about a half an hour later, just as promised, and Jim wished the meal had been hours late. As Sissy worked in the kitchen, his eyes were glued to her, watching her move around, or tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, or pull up the loose sweats she was wearing over and over again.

He’d never spent much time with women, and he certainly wasn’t into that flighty, giggly, everything-pink bullshit that some of them seemed determined to define themselves by. Still, he was very certain that few of the fairer sex pulled together a meal for two hungry men with the confidence and poise and results that Sissy did—and he found himself loving that about her.

Maybe there was a point to that man/stomach connection.

When she finally sat down, she put her hands out, palms up.

“Prayer,” she ordered as both he and Adrian stared at her in confusion.

“Ah…”

“Er…”

“Prayer.” She rapped her knuckles on the table.

Both he and Adrian complied, the three of them forming a triangle, the links shockingly strong.

She bowed her head and talked so fast that he couldn’t understand the words. Didn’t matter, though. In the midst of the war, and the deaths, and the sense that time was running out … an easing came over Jim, relaxing his breathing and his shoulders, reminding him of days long past—the good ones, the ones he hadn’t thought of in so many years.

The ones that he was shocked to find were still with him.

And what do you know—the beef stew?

Delicious.

Chapter Forty-two

“Are you kidding me? I thought this one was going to last.”

As Duke stepped back from his door and let Rolly in, he should have known better, but come on—one day? That was all the woman had lasted with the guy?

Then again…

Rolly shrugged as he threw his backpack down. “Dude, I swear, I thought she was something special.” He went over to the refrigerator and opened things up. “Oh, man, there’s nothing to eat.”

“And this is a surprise?”

“You never have food in here.”

“Like I always tell you, you want a cook and turndown service, go to your mother’s.”

“No way, she’s too demanding.”

Well, maybe there was still hope, Duke thought as he shut the front door and tightened the bath towel that was around his waist. Maybe the woman would rethink things.

Rolly’s ass hit the sofa cushions and he sighed like the two parties had been separated for a year. “You know, you could get cable out here.”

“And encourage you to stay longer?”

“You loooooooove me,” the guy called out as Duke went into the bedroom.

“Not really.”

Duke went over to his closet and opened the louvered doors. Not much in there. But it wasn’t like he had any occasions to wear suits.

In the end, he pulled on his newest pair of jeans, a black muscle shirt, and his black leather jacket—in other words, his work uniform.

Pausing in front of the mirror over the simple pine bureau in the corner, he met his own eyes and thought of his newest buddy at work.

The pair of them had gone down by the river and done their thing, and then hit two of the six parks they had to go through. Duke had the unmistakable impression that the quiet bastard was waiting him out, watching, biding time.

Not his problem.

Returning to the main space of the house, he loomed over the sofa, where Rolly had stretched out and was snoring already.

Fuck it. He was going to focus on the positive of having the guy back—it was like a free ADT system. Because if anyone broke in here, Rolly would call.

Surely the idiot would call.

Duke shut things up tight as he left, and while he walked over to his ride, he shook his head at the beater Rolly had been driving around since they’d been at Union. The stoner had gotten it new—from his very proud parents back in the days when they’d thought he’d amount to something.

Those times had passed. The thing was going on a wing and a prayer, the paint on the hood faded, the bumpers uneven from various impacts, one wheel sporting a mismatched rim because there hadn’t been money to get the proper replacement. And yet Rolly was happy enough with it.

Always would be.

Which was sad, and kind of nice, too.

Getting behind the wheel of his truck, Duke refused to let himself think too much about where he was going and why. The emotions were too complex for him to process—and maybe he didn’t like the directions they were pulling him in.

He had started this thing with Cait to get in the way of that singer with the fake-ass, sensitive, Mr. Nice Guy act.

Now, though, that goal seemed very secondary.

And that was terrifying. The woman was supposed to be a lay, nothing more. That was not how things were trending, though—and he had no clue how to handle it all.

Life had already taught him that love was a dangerous fallacy, and women, as with all people, were incredibly fickle. Like he needed to relearn all that?

Yet it was with a singular fixation that he drove into Caldwell, peeling off the Northway when he got to a residential area full of small houses and little neighborhood shops. The address Cait had given him was not one he was familiar with, but then, this was where young families lived—and he’d never been a part of one of those.

Counting the numbers down, he pulled over in front of a white clapboard with clipped bushes, a tended-to lawn and a detached garage out in back. Her SUV, the Lexus, was parked off to the side.

For some reason, he couldn’t get out, and he passed the time staring at her house. There were two windows upstairs, one of which had a light on in it. Downstairs, there was a broad bay to balance the offset front door, and plenty of illumination, including a glowing fixture right over the entrance.