Page 51 of Honorable Convictions
“Have I ever told you what it does to me when you’re in that fancy uniform?” Mitchell asked just above a whisper.
“I used to wear this every day.”
“Which was probably why I was always in a bad mood. My hands are itching to touch you.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“What if I did, Blondie? What if I hauled you against me in front of all these people? Would you kiss me?”
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Pierson asked, his eyes flicking from right to left, making sure no one was taking note of the two infamously enemy Juris Knights standing so close while Mitchell openly flirted.
“Probably.”
Whatever Pierson might’ve replied to his crazy mate, he never got the chance to articulate it.
“Brooks!” a voice called out. Pierson backed away from Mitchell as fellow Juris Knights Noah and Peter strolled over to his mate.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Murphy,” Noah said. “Aren’t you in DC now?”
“I had a meeting with the RKs and VKs,” Pierson stated. If his tone was icy, it was unpreventable, but he tried to relax his suddenly tense muscles, not that it did him any good. His relationship with Malcolmson, and even more so with Cavendish, had spanned decades. Despite so many years of working alongside one another, Pierson couldn’t summon a single happy memory.
“We won’t keep you from returning,” Noah remarked.
Without a word, Pierson marched away, and regardless of the benefit of sharing a city with Mitchell, he wondered how he’d deal with being in Vegas. Despite not having any current cases, he was glad for the eight months between him and his return.
Chapter 26
Mitchell had no concept of how time was progressing for Pierson, but for him it was flying at a pace that nearly defied reason. His caseload grew with each week, and so did the number of hours he had to work, but he didn’t allow it to interfere in his relationship with his mate. They ate dinner together and talked as Mitchell tried to get a little done while Pierson watched movies or updated the notebook he used to educate offices across North America on the official Juris Knight requirements. Most nights, at Pierson’s bedtime, Mitchell made love to him and snuggled until his other half slipped into sleep.
Then he got up and dragged his work into the bedroom to be close to Pierson as he slugged through points of law. When he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, he put it all away and pulled Pierson into his arms. Waking in the morning, Pierson was long gone but there was always fresh coffee made for him and usually homemade muffins or rolls for his breakfast. Pierson might be light on words of caring, but he had his own language for showing Mitchell that he was invested in what they were building.
That didn’t mean Mitchell wasn’t worried about what was in Pierson’s mind and how he envisioned them. It scared him to think about letting his heart slip quietly out of his chest and having it thrown back at him cruelly if Pierson again insisted that their destiny was a separation agreement and demonic spell breaking the bonds of Fate. Since he was unable to compartmentalize like Pierson, he was taking things slowly.
“I’m surprised to see you here after four,” Peter said from the doorway of Mitchell’s office, startling him. “Come out and have a beer with us.”
“Shit, I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. I can’t. I need to go.” In a flurry, Mitchell scooped up papers and shoved them into his bag.
“It’s only twenty minutes after.”Which meant dinner was likely already finished, and Pierson was eating alone, wondering if that was his destiny if they stayed together, Mitchell thought with panic rising. It was integral that he did everything in his power to keep Pierson focused on the positive.
“Like I said, I have to go.”
“When are we going to meet him?”
“Who?” Mitchell asked, playing dumb. How could he explain that they’d already met? It was going to shock Peter and the other Juris Knights, who’d likely faint at learning the truth about him and Pierson.
“You know who. The man of mystery you’re obviously deeply involved with.”
“Someday, I promise. I gotta go.” Without giving Peter a chance to reply, he hustled him out of his office and locked it for the night. After stalking out of headquarters, he jogged to the Dérive station. Teleporting straight to the bedroom, he didn’t bother to change out of his uniform until he found Pierson. His bag hit the floor, and he wandered out to find the table set for two.
“Blondie?” Mitchell called out so he didn’t surprise him.
“You’re still in uniform,” Pierson said by way of greeting.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry I’m late, I lost track of time.”
Pierson’s expression was confused. “Late?”
“It’s close to four thirty.”
