Page 62 of Bedroom Therapy

He hadn’t thought that O’Neal had a boyfriend, but the two of them sure looked cozy. We’ll, they’d better enjoy it while it lasted, because Tony was going to break them up—permanently.

He kept a good way behind them, putting a few things in his cart as they stopped in the dairy department, then went on to the meat section.

They shopped for about thirty minutes, then went to the checkout lines.

Tony waited while they paid for their purchases, then abandoned his own cart and followed them into the parking lot.

They headed for the Honda he’d seen the other day. The guy had screwed him up then, but it wasn’t going to happen again, he thought as he watched them stow their groceries in the trunk of the car, then pull out of the parking lot.

He kept well back as they swung onto the highway. When he saw them make a turn onto a side road, he followed.

It was a little hard to see where they were going because he had to be really careful not to get spotted. But finally he saw the car turn into a long drive leading to a house he could barely see through the trees.

Hot damn! He was back in business.

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Amanda had hoped the feeling of closeness would last when they got home. But as soon as they were back in the house, she sensed that Zach was on edge.

He helped her put away the groceries, then stood looking at her uncertainly.

“I’ll go put the bedroom back the way it was,” he finally said, and she knew that he had only brought up the subject out of necessity.

“I kind of like it the way it is,” she managed to say.

“Okay.”

“I promised to make breakfast if we went shopping,” she offered.

“You don’t have to bother. I can just grab something. I have to write up a report on what’s been happening with the case.”

A report, she thought. Probably it wasn’t going to include last night’s activities.

“There’s no need for you to eat in your room. I was thinking about making an omelet. Eggs. Ham. Green pepper. Onion. Cheese. Tomatoes. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to wait on your report?”

She watched him weighing his options. A dry report versus a mouthwatering breakfast.

“That sounds delicious,” he finally answered. “A lot better than a fast-food breakfast.”

“How are you at chopping onions?”

“Is that why you wanted me to stick around!”

She laughed. “Partly.”

As they fixed what was now brunch, she worked to keep the easy mood going between them. She enjoyed his company. She didn’t want him scuttling back to his work.

He watched her cooking the onions, peppers and ham in a large skillet. Then when she poured in all the eggs, he stared into the pan.

“Wait a minute. Who gets that big omelet,” he asked.

“Both of us. I read in a book that you can make one big one and divide it in portions. You just have to finish cooking it with a lid on the pan.

“Okay. I’m make a note of that.”

“You cook?”

“After my wife left, it was either develop kitchen skills or live on fast food. But right now, I’ll bow to your expertise.”

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