Page 32 of The Company We Keep

“OK, I think we’re ready,” Carrow said, jolting him out of the fantasy.

As he turned to toss out the coffee grounds and retrieve mugs for them, a crooked smile slid over Carrow’s face. It was likehe knew.

Well. At least he wasn’t mad about the night before.

Carrow poured them both a cup, leaving Dust’s out on the counter and taking his own. He didn’t leave the counter, though, turning and leaning back against it.

It was if he was daring Dust to get near him again.

Or…No, I’m overthinking it,Dust told himself.

He went to retrieve his coffee and was struck by an odd memory: Carrow’s pages in the AIIB folder that Leiby had given him. He couldn’t escape recalling the way that he had only been able to look at Carrow’s section first thing in the morning, when his mind was less protected… How he’d turn the pages, bleary eyed, as he drank coffee in his little kitchen back east. It felt so long ago. He was a different person then. Carrow had been different to him.

Was he an idiot for not being more afraid of the man?

Was the man just like his pages: more alluring when Dust was sleepy, when his defenses were lower?

The thoughts only took a split second to flow through his mind. Still, he felt momentarily exposed there in the kitchen. There was too much to hold in his head at once — too much involved in even acknowledging that Charlie Judge had ever existed. He put the thoughts away. He was Dust Wrenshall. He had to live in the present moment only — and in the present moment, it might not be the worst thing in the world to enjoy sharing a space with A.R. Carrow.

“Thanks,” he said, finally retrieving his coffee. He took a step back and watched Carrow sip — his eyes on the man’s full lips. “I gotta ask you something, boss.”

Carrow raised an eyebrow, lowering his mug. Dust obviously had his full attention. Even his posture went a little straighter.

“Can’t guarantee I’ll answer, but there’s no harm in asking.”

Dust let the beat after Carrow’s statement stretch out in the air. Heenjoyedbeing the center of this man’s attention.

“Is it rude to put cream and sugar in this?”

Carrow let out a soft laugh and shook his head. He’d really thought Dust was going to ask something profound.

“I mean,” Dust continued, smiling, “I don’t usually get coffee this nice. I don’t know what the protocol is surrounding a nice pour over someone actually spent time on.”

“You can put whatever you want in it,” Carrow said. “I’m not a purist.”

“Hm. But you takeyoursblack?”

Carrow nodded.

“I’ll try it your way, I think.”

He stepped back and sipped the hot coffee. It was rich and mellow and not at all bitter. Carrow’s smile disappearedas he watched Dust. The chink in his armor was back: the man couldn’t seem to stop himself from raking his eyes down Dust’s body. At least his power hadn’t decreased with proximity.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Carrow said abruptly. (My body made him think ofthat?Dust wondered. Maybe he wasn’t the only one preoccupied with new knowledge of smooth skin and taut muscles).

He couldn’t believe the man was seriously apologizing tohim.He looked genuinely sheepish, too — as if he’d been nervous about apologizing.

“Yeah — don’t worry about it, boss. It was my fault.”

“Wellthatsounds like juicy gossip,” Vashvi said, entering the kitchen and sidling up to Dust.

“Vi,” Carrow said with a good-natured warning in his voice. “It’s nothing.”

“Itdidinvolve me leaving your bedroom in an awfully big hurry,” Dust said, a smile tugging at his mouth. Was he pushing this too far?

“Hello,details?” Vashvi said, lofting her eyebrows.

“It wasn’t anything,” Carrow said.

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