Page 17 of Rarely Pure and Never Simple
"So we've got a ways to go."
"We're nowhere close to the end of the first trail yet."
Blaze tipped his head to the side, his mind sifting through the day. "How many trailsdidyou pick up at the school?"
"At least thirty." Damien shivered and sipped his tea.
No wonder you had a freaking fit. Poor twitchy sap.
The hotelin Fallon would never have entered Damien's list of choices if he had been alone. Apparently, Blaze had access to funds of which he didn't dare dream. The seventh floor had its own fountain courtyard and bar, and while Blaze insisted they stay in the same room, it was hardly a single room.
Damien circled his bedroom in the three-room suite, placed his bag carefully on the corner of the bed, and prowled to his private bath. The tub was larger than his bed at home.
"Blaze? Are we…" He searched for the right words as he strode back out to the common area and nearly collided with a broad chest. He tipped his head back. "Are we taking advantage of someone? Expense-wise?"
"Hell, no. The direction we're headed, we'll have plenty of chances to sleep rough. But here, I wanna be where I can keep an eye on you, and I don't think you'd do well sleeping in the same room. Gonna tell me I'm wrong?"
For a moment, Damien wished he could, a lump of sorrow lodged in his throat. "No."
Blaze's forehead creased, his expression more puzzled than angry. "Yeah. Thought so."
For several precious seconds, Damien held his ground, the heat radiating from Blaze seeping into his permanently chilled bones. He wanted… He dropped his gaze and backed off in what he hoped was a dignified retreat.
"Damien?"
Embarrassment and anxiety clashed in his chest. "Yes?"
"Case file?"
"Oh. Oh, yes." Of course. He had promised. "I'll get it for you."
He retreated to his bedroom once he had handed it over, pacing, straightening, making the room as stable a place as he could. Everything felt off, his nerves jumping at every tiny thing out of place. Sleeping outdoors would have been better.
Twenty minutes passed quietly as he paced and re-paced, making sure he had the exact measure of the room. He had nearly calmed his heart to a normal rate again…
"Hey!"
He poked his head around the doorframe to find Blaze lounging on the sofa with his feet, sans boots, propped up on the coffee table. It was the first time he'd seen the man in just a T-shirt and jeans. Amazing how much curve of musculature could hide under a coat.
"Are you hungry?"
Damien glanced from Blaze's face to where he was shutting down his link. "I thought you wanted to read the file."
"I did."
"You can't be finished."
Blaze gave him a slow, lazy smile. "What's the matter, Hazelwood? Have I destroyed your big, dumb muscle-head image of me?"
"I never—" Damien cut himself off the moment it hit him that Blaze was baiting him, maybe even teasing him in his rough, abrasive way. "I suppose you have to be a bit smarter than you let on."
It was, apparently, the correct response, since Blaze laughed, his eyes lighting up in such a suddenly unguarded way that Damien's heart lurched.
"And yes, I'm always hungry."
That brought the frown back, though it seemed more concerned than annoyed. Blaze grabbed his coat. "C'mon then, Twitchy. Let's get you fed so I don't have to worry about counting extremities when I wake up."
Disturbing, how comfortable it was to walk with Blaze, how odd it was to look forward to dinner instead of worrying how he would manage to eat in public without an incident. A buffer. He hadn't found one since he'd left Dr. Parma's care and met Agent Cummings. Maybe he should talk to her about a possible pseudo-partnership when they needed him next time, and maybe she would be willing to tell him why she had picked Blaze specifically. If some indicator existed, something she could point out… Well, it would be good to know.
