Dana Bell - Eye of the Beholder

Toni stretched in her chair, ignoring the appreciative looks of some of the men around her. Her new partner was supposed to show up any day now, but Daniel Solberg had apparently run into a hitch somewhere on the way to his desk. The captain had given him a break, something her boss never did unless it was a family emergency. But when she’d asked around, good old Danny-boy’s kids were in fine health, and so was his wife. Since his parents were deceased, what would constitute an emergency?

She shrugged. The only way to get any extra time from Cap was to either drug him or brainwash him.

Since neither one was likely, she had to assume that something was going on that Cap was okay with.

And if Cap was okay with it, who was she to say anything?

Finally, Detective Solberg appeared. Golden-boy pretty, with deep blue eyes, he walked with the attitude to match his looks. His eyes assessed her, a smile lighting his face that let her know he enjoyed what he saw.

Toni snorted. If he thought he’d get anywhere with her using those tricks, he had another think coming. Better men than he, and less married, had tried and had their asses handed to them. “Detective Solberg.”

“Detective Mancinelli.” His palm was warm and dry, his smile friendly, but something about his eyes didn’t quite mesh.

She felt a shiver run down her spine. She’d seen eyes like those before. They’d been in the face of a killer. She waved him to his desk but made a mental note to keep an eye on him. “Yeah. Nice ta meetcha.”

She waved her hand at his desk, already knowing she was in for one hell of a time. “Let’s get to work.”

Jamie woke to the feel of an arm around her waist. She touched it hesitantly, unsure who was in the bed with her. It was a hairy, definitely male arm. Considering the fact that Jordan would rip the balls off her boys if they slept with anyone but her, that left Jeff and Travis as the only possibilities. The odds of it being Travis snuggled up behind her were about a gazillion to one, so that left Jeff. Only he would dare something like this, knowing almost anyone else would incur her wrath.

It had been a very long time since Jeff had slept in her bed, not since they were kids and he’d suffered from weird ass nightmares nothing could soothe. She’d often wake to find him just like this, scared out of his mind or passed out. Perhaps the kidnapping had brought back some of those night terrors, throwing him back into childhood. Still, she couldn’t let him stay here. It was just too fucking weird now that they were adults. She yawned and decided it was time to boot her twin out. She cocked her arm and slammed her elbow back.

“Ow!”

She froze. That’s not Jeff.

“What the hell did you do that for?”

That’s Travis.

“Jamie?”

Why is Travis in my bed?

“Jamie?”

Oh, fuck. She’d just hit Travis. That’s what she got for not looking before hitting. Hadn’t she learned anything in that self-defense class?

“Jamie.”

They’d told her always to look behind you to make sure you’re not beating up your grandmother.

Perhaps she should have listened closer to her instructor’s words .

He sighed. “Are you going to open your eyes?”

She shook her head no. She might never open them again.

She squeaked as his lips brushed the side of her neck. She could feel his beard tickling her skin.

“Well, I’m hungry. I’m going to get up and kick the Three Stooges out of bed so they can feed us.” She felt the mattress dip behind her as he stood. “How are you feeling today?”

Mortified. “Fine.” Hell, she even sounded mortified. Great.

“Okay. Let me just throw some jeans on and I’ll be out of your hair for a little bit.”

Her eyes flew open despite her best efforts to keep them glued shut. She was just in time to see that bodacious ass clad in black silk not five feet from her nose. His strong back was bent as he put his legs into his jeans. “Gah.”

He turned around so quickly she was surprised he didn’t fall over. “Are you all right? I thought you said you weren’t in pain.” His hand cupped her cheek, his expression concerned.

She squeezed her eyes shut again, but it was too late. The sight of his unfastened jeans was permanently etched into her retinas, the thick line of his cock lovingly outlined by the black silk. “I’m good.” Hell, I’m better than good. I’ve now got a month’s worth of fantasy material.

“Are you sure?”

She heard his zipper catching, then the snap of his jeans. “Yup.”

She thought she heard him stifle a chuckle but couldn’t be sure. “I’ll be back in a little bit, sweetheart.

You get some more rest, okay?”

“Okay.”

She waited until she heard the door to the bedroom shut before opening her eyes, staring at it in confusion.

Sweetheart?

Travis left the bedroom with a smirk. Oh, yeah. She wants me. Now all I have to do is convince her she’s got me. The look of fascination when he’d turned around after practically shoving his ass in her face had been priceless.

He leaned up against the wall next to Jordan’s bedroom and put his ear to the wall. He couldn’t hear a sound. He gently rapped on the door. “Guys? I’m going into the kitchen to make breakfast.”

He counted under his breath. “Five, four, three, two…”

Someone started moving in the other room. With a quickly smothered grin he headed for the kitchen.

He was just laying the frying pan on the stove when a hand reached out and snatched it.

“Give me that.”

He turned to find a rumpled Logan, in blue jeans and a scowl, holding the pan.

“Move, Lefty.”

He moved. “What’s for breakfast, hothead? Habanero French toast?”

Logan glowered at him as he got out the eggs and bread. “Ha. Ha.”

Travis decided to take pity on him and start the coffee. “What did you three decide last night? Don’t tell me which one got to be on top, because I really don’t want to know.”

Logan’s leer was cheerful as he sniffed at the coffee. “We’re going to do to Jamie and Jeff what we did to Jordan.”

Travis stopped and glared at Logan. He could feel the mist trying to obscure his vision.

“Not that. Damn, and they call me perv. I meant we’re going to prove a few things the hard way.”

Travis flushed. He wasn’t used to this caveman feeling where a woman was concerned.

“Coffee?” Jordan stumbled into the room, yawning so wide he was surprised her brains didn’t spill out of her mouth.

“Morning.” He hid his smile behind his mug. Without missing a beat, Logan handed her a mug he’d placed on the counter. She shuffled past, yawning again, and filled the mug from the still percolating pot.

She had barely stopped to get dressed, merely throwing on one of her mens’ T-shirts and a pair of boxers.

Travis could see her breasts swinging freely beneath the shirt.

Not that he was looking or anything.

Okay, yeah, he was. He wasn’t dead, after all, just in love, and Jordan had a nice, perky pair.

“Morning, Jordan.” Travis stepped aside, giving her room to prop up next to the coffee pot.

“Morning, baby.” Logan moved past her to grab his own mug, planting an absent kiss on the top of her head as he did so.

“Are we having French toast?” Kir bopped into the room, that ever-present grin on his lips. His blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He’d decided to dress all in black today, with black jeans and a muscle shirt.

Travis watched as Kir and Logan greeted one another with a tender kiss. Part of him was astonished at how well the two men got along. Of all the Aesir, he would have would have thought Baldur and Loki would have the absolute least in common with each other.