Page 82 of Honorable Convictions
Pierson slapped away the hand that had found its way to his ass. “Go preheat the oven and stop fondling me.”
Deftly pulling out the business card from the pocket of the shirt Pierson had laid on the bed since it needed to be added to the pile he was taking to the cleaners in the morning, Mitchell waved it between two fingers. “I will. Right after I burn this.”
“You need help,” Pierson yelled after the nut running from their bedroom. It was an odd way to end a training session, but Pierson set it aside. Although Gratien’s interest was a compliment, Pierson walked into the living area to find the most wonderful man anywhere singing off-key to the commercial playing on the television and, for whatever reason, fell a little more in love with him.
∞∞∞
By Friday, Pierson was convinced it was time to up his percentage of files but still happy it was the weekend. Walking into the condo, he was disappointed that it was empty. Mitchell’s afternoon had taken him to court, and Pierson had hoped he’d beat him home, though knowing his mate, he’d have texted once he was finished. Deciding that dinner could wait for Mitchell, he changed into comfortable clothes and watered his plant. After that chore was complete, he poured himself a glass of wine and pulled his laptop out to work.
A little annoyed by the number of misspelled words in his recent case, he was relieved when his phone rang. Picking it up as he changed the second “s” in “ascertained” to a “c,” he didn’t check who was calling.
“JK Murphy.”
“Hi, Pierson, it’s Conley, I apologize but Drystan and I have been approached by a couple—Council leaders—who need separation papers. We’d like to meet with you to give you the information we have. I hate to ask you to come to the office, and I’d really prefer that this be as confidential as possible. Would it be too much of an imposition for us to swing by your place? We’re in the car, so depending on where you are, we could be there in a few minutes.”
Pierson blew out a breath and wet his lips as he forced himself to think. It was his leaders and bosses, so there was only one response. “Yes, of course,” Pierson responded, hopping off the sofa and racing to the bedroom as he rattled off the address.
Once he’d hung up, Pierson changed into a black button-down and slacks. Shoving on socks and wingtips, he strode into the living area as he frantically dialed Mitchell. A curse slipped out when it went to voice mail, but he left a message begging him not to come home and followed up with a text. Lifting his head, he whimpered at the photos of them which included a couple of recent ones Mitchell had taken.
With a quick mental apology, Pierson grabbed those frames as well as the ones of his mate alone. They weren’t explainable, so Pierson dumped them in the office and vowed not to let the Reverent Knights near that half of the condo. Snatching up his glass of wine, he drank it in one swallow and hid it in the dishwasher. The doorbell rang and he sent Mitchell another text, then sprinted to let the RKs in.
“Please come in,” Pierson invited.
“Thanks so much,” Conley replied, still wearing his work uniform which made Pierson wish he had his on too.
“We really appreciate you allowing us over.”
“Drystan’s embarrassed because I’m nosy and wanted to see your new place,” Conley confided as Pierson led them to the living area. “How are you liking it? It’s gorgeous, by the way. I can’t believe how quickly you got it set up.”
“Well, I did have a week off,” Pierson responded, wondering how long it took to decorate. Mitchell was the one who’d picked out everything, so he had no idea.
“True, but I’m amazed you located an apartment this close and found all these perfect furnishings that fast.”
“You know zero about furniture,” Drystan told his mate. “I’m the one who picked out everything in our condo.”
“It’s called small talk, Drys.”
“Can I get either of you anything to drink?” The pair demurred as Pierson got them settled on the sofa and hoped to hell they didn’t start asking questions about anything in the house since had zero clue. And every brain cell was currently in revolt since he was terrified of them figuring out that he didn’t live alone.
“How are you settling in?” Drystan asked.
“Very well. I’m surprised at how happy I am to be back. I was actually going to speak to you on Monday because I’d like to increase my caseload.”
“I’m willing to allow that, but let’s inch it up slowly. Be sure and call foul if you’re overwhelmed. It’s vital to us that we don’t allow your stress level to return to the point where you’re ready to toss in the towel.”
“I’ve learned a lot about how to manage my stress and creating a better balance.”
“I’m pleased to hear that, Pierson,” Conley remarked. “We failed you, and I will probably keep apologizing for a couple of years.”
Pierson forced a smile. “It’s not necessary. Should we discuss the case that brought you over?”
“I’m sure you can’t wait to get to your weekend, so sure, let’s get right to it,” Drystan said. “Arledhes Demelza Rosecarrow and Arledh-mate Kenver Rosecarrow spoke with us privately about putting together a formal separation agreement. It grew heated in seconds and with them being the leaders of the Piskiefolk, we’d like you to be involved.”
“It was tense. Arledhes Rosecarrow was picked by Fate before they met, so she wants her title stripped from her mate, who objected. She responded by calling him a spriggan. Had to google that one afterward—apparently, it’s an evil version of pixies.”
“Who don’t exist, Con.”
“Just because we haven’t met any yet doesn’t mean they don’t exist. A few years ago, we didn’t know there were sprites.”
