Page 56 of Obsession

Entering the kitchen, I find Chris seated on a barstool at the island. “There you are,” Grandma says to me. “Chris, I hope you don’t mind if Aubry joins us.”

“Aubry.” He nods. That’s Chris, an angel of annoyingly few words. He looks sexy as always in a gray detective suit. His jacket is unbuttoned, and underneath he’s wearing a white dress shirt that strains over his sculpted chest. His gun is holstered at his hip, and his bland dark gray tie is loosened around his neck. I’m not sure whether he’s off the clock or hasn’t started his MPD shift yet.

“Hey, Chris. Grandma, what’s for dinner?” I ask, taking a seat next to him on a barstool. “Smells good.”

“Salad with an Italian dressing I made with herbs from the garden and my world-famous lasagna.” I give her the stink eye. This is her world-famous “love” lasagna. “Your grandpa’s favorite.” My grandpa died long before I was born. I do often wonder what kind of man was able to put up with this wild woman’s antics.

“What’s not to love? Your cooking is always delicious,” I say, using the tongs to grab some salad. I’m not particularly hungry, but I’m going to eat anyway.

“Vivian is an excellent cook,” Chris says, which is more than he typically adds to any conversation.

“Aubry is a good cook too. She’s just been wallowing because she and Damion broke up.”

“Grandma, I don’t want to talk about it,” I warn her.

“Fine, fine. Don’t get your good girl panties all in a twist.”

Grandma’s phone rings and she excuses herself. I take this opportunity to hold my hands over both mine and Chris’s plates, diffusing any meddling magic Grandma may or may not have worked.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demands.

“You’ll thank me, I promise,” I say, opening my eyes.

I hear Grandma’s one-sided conversation ending with, “I’m on my way.” She looks at us. “Sorry you two, but I’ve been called to fill in at night poker. Old man Sullivan’s taken a tumble. He’s in the hospital with a broken hip and they’re short one player. Everyone’s already there, so I hate to leave ’em hanging. Besides, I’m feeling lucky.”

I give her a hard look, unsure if I believe her or if this was all just a ploy to get me out of my room and into this room with broody Chris. Although at the moment, I’m not sure which of us is the broodiest. I could certainly give him a run for his money. “You two finish up. Aubry, put everything up when it cools. I’ll be home late. Wish me luck.”

And then Chris and I are alone. You can hear crickets. “How do you ask a New Orleans witch out to dinner?” Silence. “Voodoo wanna go to dinner, doll?” Chris just looks at me, like he’s not quite sure what to make of me.

Once food hits my stomach, my body remembers I haven’t eaten in days. I get to work and clean my entire plate. “Why did you and Cambion break up?” he asks, eating much slower than I just did.

“That’s not your concern,” I say, stealing his line. I swear, the angel almost smiles. The corners of his mouth tic up ever so slightly. “What case are you working on this evening?” I ask him as I debate a second helping.

“That’s not your concern.”

“It’s only funny when I say it to you,” I huff. “What about this missing angel, Augustus?”

“Still missing.” That little admission is more than I thought he would give me.

“Why on earth would you think I had anything to do with it?” I ask.

“Did I say that?” he says without inflection. “Your aunt, however, required closer scrutiny.”

“What do you mean ‘closer scrutiny?’” I demand, poking him in the chest with my finger. All that accomplished was hurting my finger, as apparently his chest is made of steel.

He looks down to where I touched him. “About this death wish you have.”

“What did my aunt say?” I demand, not one hundred percent sure my aunt isn’t involved, then feeling guilty for even having that thought.

“She’s been cleared.”

“She never mentioned talking to you.”

“Because she’s been cleared.”

“Meaning what?” I demand.

“I cleared her mind of our conversation.”

---