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“Is Whisper as awesome as he seems?”
“From what I know about him, yes. He’s always kept more to himself, but my interactions with him have always been good. Specter thinks highly of him too.” He grins. “To be honest, I was hoping he’d meet someone. He had this air of loneliness and sadness about him that made me feel for him. I’m glad he found you. Sounds like you have even more in common than I would’ve guessed.”
“We do.” I chew on my bottom lip for a second. “You don’t think it’s weird or gross that people you know, the man you love, murders people?”
“Honestly, I don’t think about it that much. Specter took care of a nasty stalker I had and from that point on, I just saw it as necessary work.”
“I can see that.”
Cashmere touches my arm softly. “Listen, I can’t tell you what to do but I can say that this is a good place to be and being loved by one of these men isn’t a bad thing.”
“Oh, it’s not like that.”
He nods, but there’s a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Just the same. You could do worse.”
“Thanks, Cashmere. Uh, Colson.”
He laughs softly. “Either one is fine.”
We rejoin the guys in the kitchen and when I meet Whisper’s eyes, he smiles, drawing my own smile to the surface. I guess I could do worse.
“Want to see the garden?” he asks.
“Sure.”
We exit through French doors into a large backyard. I wouldn’t call it a garden so much as flowers and foliage growing wild.
“How did your talk with Colson go?”
“Good. I told him about me. I figured I could trust him.”
“Of course you can. What did he say?”
“He didn’t really react to it.”
“That’s Colson.” He chuckles.
Whisper takes my hand and leads me down the paved path. Even though it’s overgrown, there’s still a calming effect to being out here.
“Now that we’re together, are you gonna tell me your real name?” I ask.
“I’d rather not.”
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
Whisper glances at me, an amused look on his face. “If you promise not to laugh.”
“I would never.”
“Clarence.”
My eyes go wide. I was definitely not expecting that.
“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” he says.
“Not laughing.” I bite my bottom lip. “Clarence?”
“It’s a family name,” he grumbles. “I went by my middle name in school, which is Michael, but yeah, that’s my official name.”
