Page 27 of Fluffed and Folded

It wasn’t that he couldn’t get used to having salsa on standby; it was the fear that the salsa might go away, after he acclimated to it. But since that was the crux of everything he dealt with in his relationship with Josie—the fear of losing it—he didn’t say it, just gave her a little squeeze, to reassure himself she was still here and this was all real.

“This is fun, thanks,” Eli said, reminding them he was still present and bearing witness to their little tableau. They turned and saw him watching them with a bland expression, his chin resting in his fist.

“You’re the one who brought invitation chicken,” Tristan reminded him. “Don’t bring entitlement chicken and then complain when it comes with consequences.”

“It was just a chicken, man,” Eli said, holding up his hands in surrender.

Tristan squinted at him. “Why does a single man have a Costco membership? How many families are you secretly feeding?”

“I don’t subscribe for the food; it’s the pants,” Eli told him.

Tristan glanced at the chicken. “It’s not wearing pants.”

Eli looked to Josie to translate. Josie rested her hand on Tristan’s arm. “Costco sells more things than bulk food items. They sell clothing. Eli buys his pants from Costco.”

“You’re joking me,” Tristan blurted.

Eli stood. “No, I’m serious. They’re amazing. Look at these, you don’t even have to iron them, and they never wrinkle. And they were less than twenty dollars.”

Tristan’s confusion didn’t dim. “Why would you iron your pants? What are you, an eighteenth-century aristocrat?”

“If I were, I would have an Irish washerwoman.” Now he squinted. “That’s the second time that’s come up in conversation for me lately. Huh. And all this time I thought I wasn’t cool.”

Josie snorted a laugh and Tristan turned his attention on her. “I don’t understand anything that’s happened since he showed up.”

“You’ll feel better, after you eat. When you taste the magic Costco chicken, all will be revealed,” Josie declared, resting her hand on his impressive bicep. He turned to Eli, who nodded his agreement.

“Chicken and pants, my friend,” Eli murmured. “Chicken and pants.”

“Is my eye twitching?” Tristan asked.

Josie stood on her toes to look closely. “Not yet.”

“Good, we’ve got a while then,” he replied and took the stool next to Eli, who also sat down again.

CHAPTER 16

“Just so we’re clear, you’re sleeping in the apartment of a guy who was murdered basically a few hours ago,” Eli began as soon as they sat down and started to eat.

“Yup,” Tristan replied.

“And that doesn’t bother you? Creep you out? Give you the willies?” Eli demanded.

“No, why would it? Do you think his ghost is going to rise up and avenge me for living in his apartment?” Tristan said.

“Wouldn’t you feel pretty silly if it did?” Eli said. Josie snorted a laugh and had to cover her mouth with her napkin. “What’s going on with the investigation?”

Tristan’s only answer was a dark look and stoic silence.

“Josie, please interpret your boyfriend’s terrifying glare,” Eli requested.

“Investigations are classified, he doesn’t like to blab things,” Josie explained.

“What? I’m the one who brought her in. Doesn’t that entitle me to some kind of finder’s fee?”

“You want to be paid in gossip?” Tristan asked.

“Obviously,” Eli replied.

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