Page 39 of The Guardian

“Good,” she says around a mouthful.

“Is that a brioche?” I ask, surprised as he plates up a fluffy slice and slides the plate toward me.

“It is. Fresh from that bakery down the block.”

“Pierre’s?” I eye him suspiciously. “Fancy. What’s the occasion?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, a sly grin pulling at his lips as he shrugs. “Guess you could say I woke up in a really good mood. Slept like a baby.”

I feel a blush start to creep up my neck and I avert my gaze down to my plate as I reach for my fork. I don’t know if he slept in my bed last night. I remember falling asleep while he was still wrapped around me, but I didn’t wake up until Chloe came into my room. I push the thought from my mind, taking a big bite of the fluffy French toast and savoring the sweetness of the syrup and the saltiness of the butter.

“You got the fancy French butter too?”

“Of course. I never do anything halfway.” He winks at me, quickly glancing over to make sure Chloe didn’t notice, but she’s buried in her comic book as she finishes eating.

“Well, thank you for breakfast. I need to run some errands today and get some work done for the case. I have a pretty intense week coming up: witness testimony and a lot of paperwork.” I’m casually trying to tell Alex that while I appreciate his kindness this morning, I don’t expect for us to be hanging out today. “Chloe, did you still want to go over to Aunt Blaire’s house today?”

“Yeah! She said we can go to the farmers’ market by her house. There’s this guy there who sells old comic books and figurines. Remember when we went there before, Mom?”

“I do. That was your favorite booth.”

“Hey, could I—” Alex motions with his head toward the living room. I nod, following him away from Chloe.

“Jimmy will be with them, right?” he asks.

“Of course. Blaire knows what’s going on, and that’s the only reason I feel comfortable allowing her to go over there, because Jameson will be with them.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Either I can chauffeur you around to your errands or ride shotgun in your car.” He says it with a completely straight face.

“What? No, I’ll be fine. I’m fine when I go to work by myself every day.”

“You’re fine because I’m following you, Juliette. Come on, don’t do this again. After that situation at lunch the other day when you were clearly followed, you were pretty shaken up. I promise I’ll sit quietly and won’t disturb you.”

I think about it for a second, and I know he’s right. “Fine, but you’re driving,” I say before walking back into the kitchen.

“Are you done?” I ask Chloe, who is still fully engrossed in her comic book.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, go wash up and get ready to leave here in 20 minutes, okay?” I take our plates and walk over to the kitchen sink.

“I’ll clean up,” Alex says, coming up behind me.

“No, you made breakfast, so I’ll clean up.”

There’s no use arguing with him. He grabs the pans and spatula and throws them in the dishwasher before wiping down the counter.

I scrape off the plates in the sink, flicking on the water, and reaching to turn on the garbage disposal, which immediately emits a high-pitched sound. “Oh, that’s not good.” I flip it off, running the water a little longer before trying again. This time, it sounds like it gets stuck, and I hear a low, dull hum. “Shit, must be clogged,” I say, turning it off.

“Let me take a look.” Alex crouches down, opening the cabinets below the sink. “No leaks.” He hits the restart button. “Try again.” I do, but we hear the same pathetic sound.

“I’ll call the plumber,” I say, placing the plates in the dishwasher.

“I’m sure I can fix it. Let me give it a shot later.”

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