Page 30 of Cisco

Hilly should have remembered how well her ex-roommate could read her. Dare she…?

Hilly took in a deep breath. “I’ll be picking up some stuff for camp, but I’m also delivering lunch to…a friend.”

“A friend, or a friend-friend?” Buffy prodded, knocking Hilly’s ribs playfully with her elbow.

“No. It’s not like that…,” she responded a little wistfully. “I mean, maybe it is. In my own mind it might be. But… I’m actually visiting our self-defense expert who ran into a bit of trouble while he was out on a call yesterday with his SWAT team, and needs my delivery services.”

“Oooh.” Buffy’s brown eyes grew wide. “SWAT as in a smoking hot guy decked out in sexy gear who runs around saying hut, hut, hut?”

Hilly laughed, thoroughly amused, and shook her head. “Seriously? You watch way too much TV, Buff.”

“Oh really?” She postured. “Tell me then. What part do I have wrong?”

“Uh… The hut, hut, hut part?” Hilly gave back weakly.

“Aha! So the smoking hot description and the sexy gear is correct?”

“Uh, yeah. Cisco is pretty attractive,” she admitted.

“Mmm. Cisco,” Buffy repeated, then stabbed Hilly with a pointed look only a good friend could get away with. “Wait. Speaking of TV. This isn’t the guy who took down the bad dude at the bank, is it? The blood-soaked white-shirt guy?”

“One in the same,” Hilly admitted.

“OMG, Hilly. That man… Does this mean you’re ready to end your self-imposed dry-spell?”

Hilly sighed. “It’s…complicated.”

“Seriously?” Buffy snorted. “How tough is it to remember that when you’re with a guy who does it for you, the big sausage goes in the snug little bun?”

Hilly broke up laughing. “Please! I’ll never get rid of that picture, now. You are so bad, Buff.” She somehow managed to catch her breath. “Now cut it out. I’ll give you the tour and introduce you to our counselors before I head into town and feed Cisco. Then I’ll come back and dish you the entire sad story about why me and Mr. Kielbasa can’t be a thing.”

“Deal,” Buffy agreed. “But, just saying, I might try to talk you into it anyway.”

They walked out into the bright sunshine with Hilly feeling more optimistic about, well, everything.

An hour later, Hilly stood in the deli section of the supermarket where they sold a variety of foods to go, and impishly ordered a sausage sub for Cisco. So what if she’d have to choke back her snorts while they ate. It would be highly worth it to be able to reveal her irreverent purchase to Buffy later.

She also grabbed a salmon salad that looked appealing. If Cisco didn’t invite her in to eat with him, she could always go to the park and sit at the river while she polished off her food. Which would be just fine. It would be no big deal if Cisco didn’t want her hanging around at his house. After all, starting Tuesday, she’d be seeing him on the regular for a bunch of hours each week, and that would be enough.

Or so she told herself.

Ten minutes later, pulling up to the address he’d given her, Hilly ogled Cisco’s home. It was lovely. And not even close to what she’d imagined. She’d kind of seen him in a white-on-white split ranch with an unkept yard, or someplace equally nondescript since he was a single guy. Maybe she’d even pictured a bunch of junker cars in his driveway.

What she hadn’t expected was the exceptionally well-kept bungalow, with its neatly trimmed lawn and lush flower beds on the periphery. Nor had she imagined he’d have the warm, yet moody color scheme on the clapboards that made her immediately want to go in and check out the rest of the place to see what hues graced his walls.

As she walked up the cleanly swept wooden steps, Hilly’s eyes went to the pair of antique, cane rockers on the porch. She blinked, wondering if Cisco ever used them. There wasn’t so much as a scuff on the floorboards beneath them, nor an errant dish or personal item to be seen nearby that would say he’d recently placed his fine ass on the seat.

Before she could explore and be nosy any further, the door opened and?—

Holy hell.

Cisco in his uniform had been a sight to see, but Cisco in sweats, paired with an open shirt that showed off a stark white bandage across his dark, drool-worthy chest? It almost had her clenching her thighs together to hold back an impending flood.

“Hilly!” His grin was huge and bright as he greeted her. “Right on time.”

“Yeah, I…” She managed to find her tongue, and stupidly held up the bag. “I got you a sub.”

He leaned forward and took it from her. “That’s great. Aren’t you coming in?”

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