Page 107 of Riordan's Revenge

Another crew member followed. I squinted at what he carried.

“Is that a nest of tables?”

“And a lamp.” Manny retrieved the last item from the hall. “Happy with where we’ve put it?”

Slowly, I nodded. “Sure, but?—”

“Then job done. Best get back downstairs.”

He ushered the guys out. I called a quick thanks, shutting the door after them, still entirely confused.

A text message pinged my phone.

Riordan: I’ll be upstairs in half an hour so get ready for a cosy evening in. Clothes optional after dinner.

My heart thumped. He’d done this. Of course he had. The ceramic white-and-gold lamp, close in design to the one I had in my Great House apartment, provided a warm light over the soft couch. I set it on one of the little tables, another reserved for whatever food he was bringing home, and the last holding my laptop.

Against the red-brick walls and dark exposed steel of the apartment, his decor made it so snug. So pretty.

Riordan returned with two big bags plus his bike helmet in his hands. He stole a kiss then took the bags to the kitchen counter, the three pendant lamps highlighting him in bright detail.

“Sorry I went biking without you, little backpack. I had things to fetch.”

He shucked his leathers then unpacked his rucksack, bringing out a skull.

I blinked at it. “Who’s that?”

Riordan smirked then lifted it to show the barcode on the bottom. He flipped the hot tap to fill the sink, adding dish soap and setting the skull down in the water. Next from his bag he brought a box of cutlery and two wide bowls, giving it all a clean.

A tea towel followed, and he dried up then arranged the knives, forks, and spoons in the skull—damn, it was a cutlery holder—then set the bowls on the higher countertop.

Riordan unpacked the food next, two cartons of pasta landing side by side.

Mystified at the unexpected domesticity, I drifted over. “I thought ye didn’t want to move in with me?”

“I’m not. Just wanted to make you more comfortable.”

Damn the tightening in my chest and damn my heart for wishing he’d said the opposite.

Then I took a deep inhale, picking up more than just the meal.

Pink stained his cheeks. “What?”

“Are ye wearing aftershave?”

That almost shy smile returned. “Maybe. Do you like it?”

I knew nothing about men’s perfume, but the one he’d picked out hit a place deep inside my brain and sent me dizzy with lust. “It makes me want to devour ye.”

Riordan hid a smile and rifled through the rucksack for one last item. He pulled out a blanket, folded and with a ribbon around it, handed it over, then jerked his chin at the sofa. “Throw that over the back of the couch. It’s to keep you warm once we’ve eaten and are watching TV.”

My heart hurt all the more. In the past couple of days, I’d made idle comments about needing furniture but having no time to get any. We’d been busy, with endless work to do and our downtime spent all over each other or sleeping.

Aside from Riordan’s secret jaunts out.

At the end of his shifts, he’d take off for an hour or two before coming home to me. Obviously, I watched him the whole time using the tracker on his bike. He’d been to Town Hall where Everly used to work and their father still did, then out to the fancy streets where the mayor lived. He was plotting something.

In time, he’d tell me. I was certain.

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