Page 66 of Knife For Hire

“Orzo,” Cinnamon warns, and maybe I would back off, but there’s a husky edge tinting her voice. As she turns, I see her pupils are shot.

“I’ll be patient.” I hand her the box, offering a quick press to her lips.

A promise of after.

Only once she is turned away do I open a drawer, pulling out a few items.

These will be perfect.

Pocketing them, I sit back down at the bar and force myself to wait.

“Where did you say you lived?” I ask, refocusing on the new information I had uncovered.

“The Truffle Apartments,” she answers honestly.

Good.

“Do you know your neighbors?” My hands clench the bar, using it to release my anxiety.

“Sure.” She upends the noodles into boiling water.

Some of it splashes up, and I am terrified it will hit her, but as if guided by magic, it goes in every direction except at her.

“Does the name Kale ring any bells?” I watch her for any signs of deception.

“No, there’s just Miss Clementine, Bran, and John.” She bends down, searching for…

My attention lands on her full ass, my brain attempting to take me from my line of thought again.

She doesn’t know.

That a fucking Aldente lives across the hall from her. That he’s been inside her house.

She raises up with a glass dish.

Oh fuck, that’s hers.

“Weird,” she comments, but doesn’t linger on it. She digs into the fridge, pulling out a whole slew of items. “I know you said mac and cheese…but I felt like a bit something more too. I’m going to do a goat cheeseburger with onion jam. Sound good?”