Page 51 of Cash

“And now we have your weird message from the detective who didn’t even charge you with killing a man.” Brick went into the bathroom, grabbing an armful of toiletries. He didn’t know why he was taking so much, but he was more focused on keeping his train of thought going than whether or not Jules would judge his collection of Etude House Bubble Tea Sleeping Masks. “I think he just told you where to find the thief.”

“Oh?”

“Yup.” Brick remembered the text he’d seen on Jules’s phone. “Whoever has the item is trying to sell it, aren’t they? The thief must be someone really obvious, like one of the Finches, and they don’t want to deal with the heat. If they sell it, then you’re gonna go after whoever they sell it to first. Your priority is getting the magical item, whatever it is. That gives the thief time to get out of the country ’cause you’ll be busy going after the buyer.”

“Like that would stop me.”

“But it would slow you down.”

Jules pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“There’s some fantastic creepy alleys around the Rialto that would make the perfect spot for a super shady deal,” Brick went on. “The place is usually packed on Friday nights because of the show, so it’ll be easy for whoever to blend in and hide out in the crowd while they try to find their buyer. Since Detective Cutter only referred to him or her as your friend, that makes me think you already know who you’re looking for. You’re gonna go to the show, find the thief, beat them up or whatever it is you do, and that’s that, right?

“Allegedly.”

“Oh, come on!” Brick squeezed in one last face mask and another moisturizer, zipping up the stuffed bag with a flourish. He put his hands on his hips with a triumphant grin. “Is your little cookie right or what?”

“I guess we’ll never know.”

“Wait, wait. You’re not gonna tell me?” Brick scoffed angrily. “After all that brilliant deduction? Do you have any idea how many hundreds upon thousands of hours of complex dramas I’ve watched? I’ve seen every trope, every cliché, and every single ridiculous red herring you can possibly think of. Based on the evidence, this is absolutely what makes sense. So, come on. Spill. Am I right?”

“You know, you’re real fuckin’ cute when you get all flustered.”

“Jules. Can you at least tell me if I’m a teensy tiny bit right?”

Jules thought long and hard, his brow wrinkling up as he tilted his head to the side.

“Well?” Brick demanded. “Yes or no?”

“Huh. Let’s see… no.”

“Dammit.”

Chapter Nine

Brick enjoyed the comfort of Jules’s luxurious bed over at the fancy townhouse, not to mention the awesome comfort of sleeping in Jules’s big arms, but he still woke up annoyingly early. He was by himself, and he didn’t see any immediate sign of Jules. He feigned a stomachache to his boss in a quick email, marveling at how easy it was to lie through the internet, and then dragged himself downstairs into the kitchen.

He almost died when there was no coffee.

He didn’t even see a coffee maker.

Brick was about ready to walk back to his house when the front door opened. He heard a few beeps from the alarm system, and he cautiously tiptoed over to see who it was. Though there wasn’t a coffee maker, there was a big frying pan sticking out of a moving box that would make a decent weapon.

Fuck, why was he thinking like that now?

Thankfully, it was only Jules and—oh thank God—he had coffee, a full four-pack of to-go cups.

“Hey.” Jules smiled brightly. He was dressed in another sexy suit sans tie, and he greeted Brick with a kiss to his cheek. “Figured you’d be sleepin’ in ’cause you’re playing hooky today.”

“Hey.” Brick went right for the coffee. He didn’t even care what kind it was. “Mm, well, I tried, but I’m, like, programmed now to just wake up. Besides, I still had to let my boss know.”

Jules watched Brick sip the coffee. “That okay?”

“It’s delicious. It’s…” Brick paused. “It’s vanilla bean. That’s my favorite. How did you—”

“You got French vanilla coffee at your place. Figured you liked this.” Jules winked.

“Sneaky Daddy is sneaky.” Brick pecked Jules lightly on the lips since he hadn’t brushed his teeth yet or even changed out of his pajamas and robe. Out of habit, he was still wearing slippers. He headed over to the couch to sip his precious caffeine nectar.

---