Epic, A Grimm story by BymagaJones 18/20
Feb. 23rd, 2016 01:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bymagajonesChapter 17
Chapter 18
There, Nick thought. He’d put it out there. His pounding heart seemed to rise into his throat, the throbbing echoing throughout his head. He felt Monroe’s gaze on his face, but coward that he was, he kept his closed. He didn’t want Monroe to see just how important it felt. Of course, he conceded, Monroe could probably feel his heartbeat too –
“It’s not like you use it,” Monroe mused, his tone just as casual, cutting into Nick’s thoughts and causing him to relax slightly. “We could move your dresser in here, maybe get you a clothesbasket where you might actually put your dirty clothes.”
Nick smiled, scotching closer to Monroe, enjoying Monroe’s arm tightening around him. He’d really missed this. A thought suddenly hit him. “You think this is why Hank chose such a big house?”
“Because he knew we’d need the space?” Monroe was thoughtful. “So now he’s a cop who can see into the future?”
“No,” Nick said, “he’s just a really good cop.” He smiled, making a mental note to thank his former partner.
After providing a late breakfast for their extended family the next day, Nick and Monroe finally got the house back to themselves before noon.
“I have to go into work for a few hours,” Nick said apologetically.
“That actually works for me,” Monroe said. “I need to go put in some time at the diner, work on the schedule and the next food order.”
“We’ll meet back here for dinner?” Nick found that he really didn’t want to develop a habit where he and Monroe were more roommates than friends.
“Sounds good. I’ll cook.”
“You sure? You’re going to be at the diner all day.”
Monroe shrugged. “It’s not like I’m going to be doing anything more than paperwork. Besides, I actually like cooking for us.”
Nick didn’t even want to begin to understand that. As far as he was concerned, cooking was throwing a frozen burrito into the microwave; gourmet was actually using the stove. Sure, he could cook basic stuff when necessary, but he never really enjoyed it. He did, however, enjoy watching Monroe cook, the way his shoulders would relax, the small smile on his face as they talked. He made a mental note to try to get home early.
The day passed quickly. It turned out that the skip he was looking for, Brian Holmes, was a Skalengeck, and it didn’t take long for Nick to find him hiding out in the storage room of his favorite bar. It had been a bit of a brawl when Holmes had rabbited, running down the block, but Nick had managed to chase him into a pawnshop, tackling and cuffing him fairly easily. As he’d pulled Holmes up from the floor, he’d glanced to the left of the startled shopkeeper and stopped thoughtfully. “Huh.”
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
Sometimes Monroe just wanted to shove his head in the oven, he thought as he put out a fire that some kids had inadvertently started behind the diner when they tried to smoke some cigarettes and had gotten scared when he’d opened the back door to put take out some garbage bags. It might not have been that bad if an hour earlier one of the servers hadn’t thrown up on table six and promptly burst into tears because she was pregnant, and her baby daddy had skipped town. Last week’s deposit hadn’t balanced out until he found a note that the nighttime cook had slipped under his office door. He supposed he could be thankful that it had stuck to his shoe when he’d scooched his chair underneath this desk.
Monroe finally left the diner, smelling faintly of smoke but satisfied about the schedules he’d posted for the next two weeks and the new inbox he’d hung on the outside of his office door. He’d also e-mailed the balanced financials to his boss and for the first time felt like maybe he was getting a hang out of this whole food service thing.
Nick had texted that he was going to go for a quick run before dinner, so Monroe figured that he wouldn’t see his Grimm until closer to dinnertime, which worked well. He took a quick shower to get the diner smell off of him and was on his way into the kitchen when he got a sense of… something wrong in the dining room. He poked his head into the room, expecting it to still be empty after Wu had convinced the store to take the table and chairs back. Hank had sent him the link to the place that built customized dining room sets, but Monroe hadn’t had a chance to take a look at it yet or even try to find a replacement.
Blinking in surprise, Monroe stepped into the room and walked around the large Pilates machine in the middle of the room. He had to admit that as much as he enjoyed the mat exercises, he’d missed his Reformer. To have one suddenly appear in his house took a little consideration.
In the end, he didn’t really have to think about it at all. There was only one person who knew about his routines, about how much he used his Reformer, only one person who would realize without Monroe having to say a word that he’d missed it.
Monroe grabbed his keys.
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
By the time Nick walked into the house, sweaty from his jog, he could smell his favorite dish throughout the house. Even better was Monroe’s large smile and happy hug. Neither man had to even look in the direction of the dining room to understand what was not being said.
Two weeks later, Nick was walking with Hank down the street to a diner for lunch when he stopped at a store.
Hank, who’d been talking, walked a few more steps before realizing that Nick was no longer with him and had to turn back. “What’s up?” He stood beside Nick and stared. “Really?”
“His burned in the fire,” Nick said. “And he’s really good.”
Hank leaned closer to the window. “It says it’s used, but I have no idea if that’s a good price.”
Nick shrugged. “I’ll do a little search on the Internet, maybe stop by here on the way home if it’s a deal.”
“That’s kind of a big gift outside of birthdays and Christmas.”
“He really liked the Pilates machine thing I got him from the pawn shop.”
Shrugging, Hank said, “Well, when I said, ‘woo him’, I was thinking more of candlelit dinners and flowers, but whatever works for you two.”
Nick laughed. In the time since he’d brought Monroe home, he’d become a firm believer in timing and fate and destiny. Renard and his connections had helped Nick get to Monroe before it had been too late – and he didn’t try to fool himself that Monroe’d had much time left in the clutches of the Evil Grimm. And he’d almost fallen on the Reformer at the pawnshop – couldn’t get much more obvious than that.
He knew it was corny, but he liked providing for Monroe, giving him things that he wanted but would hesitate to buy for himself.
“He got me a new Doppelarmbrust,” Nick said fondly, remembering how after a considerably wet day, he’d walked into the house shouting a hello to Monroe as he headed straight up the stairs, taking his time in a warm shower, before going into their bedroom – they’d already moved his dresser in there – and changing into a long sleeved t-shirt, sweats, and thick socks. He’d slowly padded down the stairs, making a mental note to thank Monroe for cleaning the water on the floor, when he’d stopped. A flash of something on the coffee table had caught his eye, and he changed direction, smiling when he saw the crossbow. He’d picked it up, admiring it in the remaining light entering the room from the window. The little white card attached to it with a scrawled, “For Nick” had only made him smile harder. “The two bolts were already loaded.”
Hank sighed. “Is this a guy thing? Or maybe it’s a Grimm thing. After bonding over fighting Wesen, I suppose flowers and dinners would be a little anticlimactic.”
Nick recalled evenings years ago after a tough day at work or an especially trying incident with a Wesen, he’d find himself slowly melting into Monroe’s sofa as Monroe sat with his cello, slowly sliding the bow over the strings. It’d be nice to have the place filled with music again, and Monroe and Roddy could jam together – or whatever classical musicians called it.
He said as much to Hank, who mused, “Maybe you do have a little romance in you after all.”
The one thing that made Nick pause was the knowledge that Monroe hadn’t given any indication that his hands had fully healed. He hadn’t seen Monroe’s hands shake lately, but maybe he’d missed it happening, and he didn’t want Monroe to feel anything but happiness at his gifts.
In the end, he’d done the research, bought the cello, and snuck it into the small closet in the basement.
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
“I’m dying to go for a run,” Nick said the following weekend, stretching in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. “Wanna come with?”
“Actually,” Monroe said, “I need to call the diner, make sure it’s still standing.” He eyeballed Nick’s clothing, trying not to spend too much time over Nick’s well-muscled calves. “It’s still winter, you know.”
“Hey, it’s almost April, and it’s a beautiful day outside.”
“I’m just saying, you own a pair of sweats for a reason,” Monroe grumbled.
Nick laughed. “Says the man who doesn’t even own a pair of shorts.”
“I don’t own a lot of things,” Monroe protested, choosing to ignore the fact that he didn’t own a pair of shorts two years ago either. “Besides, a sweaty Reformer is pretty nasty. I wipe it down every morning, but it would be totally nasty if I worked out in shorts.” Just the idea of it almost made him shudder.
“Good point,” Nick allowed, unplugging his phone and grabbing his keys from the island.
“Wait,” Monroe said, suddenly feeling anxious about Nick running by himself. “Let me go change; I’ll call on the way.”
“You don’t have to – ”
“Two minutes!” Monroe ran up the stairs.
Smiling, Nick picked up his phone, checking his e-mail. He couldn’t help but shake his head at a text from Hank containing three words: “wine and dine”. Maybe Hank was right. At the very least, it wouldn’t hurt. After a moment’s consideration, he changed his plans. “How about we make a day of it?” He called upstairs.
Monroe tromped downstairs a few seconds later, pulling a sweatshirt over his head. “I’m not running all day,” he muttered.
“The trail I’m thinking about’s a little over three miles, but we can stop off on the way back, have dinner somewhere.”
Monroe looked them both over. “We’re going to be sweaty, you’re in shorts, I’m in sweats…”
“A picnic then,” Nick amended.
“I know you seem to be under this delusion that winter’s over, but it’s still pretty cold out there.”
“If I get cold, I’ll just have to use you to warm me up,” Nick teased, testing the waters as he looked up at Monroe from beneath his lashes.
Monroe’s ears grew red as he fumbled for his phone. “Let’s just go already.”
The day turned out better than Nick had expected, especially considering it was planned on the fly. He refused to tell Monroe where they were going, and the Blutbad continued making guesses each time they passed a road sign. A little less than ninety minutes later, Nick pulled into a small parking area, grabbing an annual pass out of his glove compartment and hanging it from his rearview mirror.
“Okay, so this is going to be more of a hike than a run,” he admitted, turning toward Monroe.
“I gathered that,” Monroe said, his small smile belying his rough tone.
“But I’m prepared,” Nick said. “I have some stuff in the trunk.” The last time he’d remembered hiking was when he’d gone after a rogue Dickfellig before he’d gotten Monroe back. He’d barely made it back alive after that one.
He still had the blue backpack in the trunk, filled with bottled water, energy bars, a small medical kit, and a few choice weapons.
“Hey,” Monroe said, pulling out a dusty green backpack. “I remember this! We were looking for that Hasslich, the one who’d messed with Bud.”
Nick laughed. “He’d fallen into that muddy spot and was horrified that it had ruined his suit.”
“That didn’t stop him from trying to take your head off, though.” Monroe put the first aid kit and half the water into his backpack.
“Getting those cuffs on him was a bitch.” Nick grabbed a few of Monroe’s water bottles and put them back into his pack.
“If you’d killed him, you wouldn’t have had to worry about that,” Monroe reminded him, this time taking all of the water, leaving Nick with the power bars and a sweatshirt. He gave Nick a look and quickly zipped up the pack. “And you wanted me to put him in my car!”
“Taking him ourselves instead of waiting for the cruiser would’ve saved us about an hour.” Nick decided to stop fighting Monroe, zipping up his own pack and closing the trunk.
“An hour that I would’ve had to use cleaning all of that mud out of my car. And let’s not even talk about the Hasslich smell! It just burrows in like a tick on a hound.”
They continued to banter, adjusting their conversations as they encountered other hikers along the way. They reached the lake, relaxing and eating a couple of energy bars before heading back to the car.
Along the way, Monroe had gotten hot, pulling off his sweatshirt and shoving it into his backpack. They’d used it to cover the ground while they’d rested at the lake, and it had ended up on Nick, his fingers disappearing underneath the long sleeves. Neither had mentioned it, or Nick’s own sweatshirt in his backpack, although Nick felt Monroe’s eyes on him more than once. He’d decided he would have no problems acknowledging that he liked having Monroe’s smell wrapped around him.
“It looks like a picnic is out,” Monroe said as he put on his seatbelt. He angled his head awkwardly to stare up at the darkening sky. “We probably have about half an hour before it dumps on us.”
“Don’t count out the picnic just yet,” Nick said, starting the car.
The rain started falling just about the time Monroe had predicted, sheets distorting the window, forcing Nick to slow to a crawl. He was thankful that Monroe remained silent, allowing him to focus on getting them home safely. Pulling up, he got the passenger side as close to the door as he could. “Go ahead inside. I’ll be back.”
“Where’re you going?”
“I’ll be back.” Nick knew he was being cryptic, but he wanted to surprise Monroe.
“Okay,” Monroe said, drawing out the word. “I’ll throw something together – ”
“Nope,” Nick said. “I got it covered. Take a shower, relax. I’m in charge of dinner tonight.”
Monroe stared at Nick for a second, his brow furrowed. Nick just gave him a benign smile and waited until Monroe had gotten safely into the house before he pulled away.
Entry with links to each chapter
Chapter 18
There, Nick thought. He’d put it out there. His pounding heart seemed to rise into his throat, the throbbing echoing throughout his head. He felt Monroe’s gaze on his face, but coward that he was, he kept his closed. He didn’t want Monroe to see just how important it felt. Of course, he conceded, Monroe could probably feel his heartbeat too –
“It’s not like you use it,” Monroe mused, his tone just as casual, cutting into Nick’s thoughts and causing him to relax slightly. “We could move your dresser in here, maybe get you a clothesbasket where you might actually put your dirty clothes.”
Nick smiled, scotching closer to Monroe, enjoying Monroe’s arm tightening around him. He’d really missed this. A thought suddenly hit him. “You think this is why Hank chose such a big house?”
“Because he knew we’d need the space?” Monroe was thoughtful. “So now he’s a cop who can see into the future?”
“No,” Nick said, “he’s just a really good cop.” He smiled, making a mental note to thank his former partner.
After providing a late breakfast for their extended family the next day, Nick and Monroe finally got the house back to themselves before noon.
“I have to go into work for a few hours,” Nick said apologetically.
“That actually works for me,” Monroe said. “I need to go put in some time at the diner, work on the schedule and the next food order.”
“We’ll meet back here for dinner?” Nick found that he really didn’t want to develop a habit where he and Monroe were more roommates than friends.
“Sounds good. I’ll cook.”
“You sure? You’re going to be at the diner all day.”
Monroe shrugged. “It’s not like I’m going to be doing anything more than paperwork. Besides, I actually like cooking for us.”
Nick didn’t even want to begin to understand that. As far as he was concerned, cooking was throwing a frozen burrito into the microwave; gourmet was actually using the stove. Sure, he could cook basic stuff when necessary, but he never really enjoyed it. He did, however, enjoy watching Monroe cook, the way his shoulders would relax, the small smile on his face as they talked. He made a mental note to try to get home early.
The day passed quickly. It turned out that the skip he was looking for, Brian Holmes, was a Skalengeck, and it didn’t take long for Nick to find him hiding out in the storage room of his favorite bar. It had been a bit of a brawl when Holmes had rabbited, running down the block, but Nick had managed to chase him into a pawnshop, tackling and cuffing him fairly easily. As he’d pulled Holmes up from the floor, he’d glanced to the left of the startled shopkeeper and stopped thoughtfully. “Huh.”
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
Sometimes Monroe just wanted to shove his head in the oven, he thought as he put out a fire that some kids had inadvertently started behind the diner when they tried to smoke some cigarettes and had gotten scared when he’d opened the back door to put take out some garbage bags. It might not have been that bad if an hour earlier one of the servers hadn’t thrown up on table six and promptly burst into tears because she was pregnant, and her baby daddy had skipped town. Last week’s deposit hadn’t balanced out until he found a note that the nighttime cook had slipped under his office door. He supposed he could be thankful that it had stuck to his shoe when he’d scooched his chair underneath this desk.
Monroe finally left the diner, smelling faintly of smoke but satisfied about the schedules he’d posted for the next two weeks and the new inbox he’d hung on the outside of his office door. He’d also e-mailed the balanced financials to his boss and for the first time felt like maybe he was getting a hang out of this whole food service thing.
Nick had texted that he was going to go for a quick run before dinner, so Monroe figured that he wouldn’t see his Grimm until closer to dinnertime, which worked well. He took a quick shower to get the diner smell off of him and was on his way into the kitchen when he got a sense of… something wrong in the dining room. He poked his head into the room, expecting it to still be empty after Wu had convinced the store to take the table and chairs back. Hank had sent him the link to the place that built customized dining room sets, but Monroe hadn’t had a chance to take a look at it yet or even try to find a replacement.
Blinking in surprise, Monroe stepped into the room and walked around the large Pilates machine in the middle of the room. He had to admit that as much as he enjoyed the mat exercises, he’d missed his Reformer. To have one suddenly appear in his house took a little consideration.
In the end, he didn’t really have to think about it at all. There was only one person who knew about his routines, about how much he used his Reformer, only one person who would realize without Monroe having to say a word that he’d missed it.
Monroe grabbed his keys.
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
By the time Nick walked into the house, sweaty from his jog, he could smell his favorite dish throughout the house. Even better was Monroe’s large smile and happy hug. Neither man had to even look in the direction of the dining room to understand what was not being said.
Two weeks later, Nick was walking with Hank down the street to a diner for lunch when he stopped at a store.
Hank, who’d been talking, walked a few more steps before realizing that Nick was no longer with him and had to turn back. “What’s up?” He stood beside Nick and stared. “Really?”
“His burned in the fire,” Nick said. “And he’s really good.”
Hank leaned closer to the window. “It says it’s used, but I have no idea if that’s a good price.”
Nick shrugged. “I’ll do a little search on the Internet, maybe stop by here on the way home if it’s a deal.”
“That’s kind of a big gift outside of birthdays and Christmas.”
“He really liked the Pilates machine thing I got him from the pawn shop.”
Shrugging, Hank said, “Well, when I said, ‘woo him’, I was thinking more of candlelit dinners and flowers, but whatever works for you two.”
Nick laughed. In the time since he’d brought Monroe home, he’d become a firm believer in timing and fate and destiny. Renard and his connections had helped Nick get to Monroe before it had been too late – and he didn’t try to fool himself that Monroe’d had much time left in the clutches of the Evil Grimm. And he’d almost fallen on the Reformer at the pawnshop – couldn’t get much more obvious than that.
He knew it was corny, but he liked providing for Monroe, giving him things that he wanted but would hesitate to buy for himself.
“He got me a new Doppelarmbrust,” Nick said fondly, remembering how after a considerably wet day, he’d walked into the house shouting a hello to Monroe as he headed straight up the stairs, taking his time in a warm shower, before going into their bedroom – they’d already moved his dresser in there – and changing into a long sleeved t-shirt, sweats, and thick socks. He’d slowly padded down the stairs, making a mental note to thank Monroe for cleaning the water on the floor, when he’d stopped. A flash of something on the coffee table had caught his eye, and he changed direction, smiling when he saw the crossbow. He’d picked it up, admiring it in the remaining light entering the room from the window. The little white card attached to it with a scrawled, “For Nick” had only made him smile harder. “The two bolts were already loaded.”
Hank sighed. “Is this a guy thing? Or maybe it’s a Grimm thing. After bonding over fighting Wesen, I suppose flowers and dinners would be a little anticlimactic.”
Nick recalled evenings years ago after a tough day at work or an especially trying incident with a Wesen, he’d find himself slowly melting into Monroe’s sofa as Monroe sat with his cello, slowly sliding the bow over the strings. It’d be nice to have the place filled with music again, and Monroe and Roddy could jam together – or whatever classical musicians called it.
He said as much to Hank, who mused, “Maybe you do have a little romance in you after all.”
The one thing that made Nick pause was the knowledge that Monroe hadn’t given any indication that his hands had fully healed. He hadn’t seen Monroe’s hands shake lately, but maybe he’d missed it happening, and he didn’t want Monroe to feel anything but happiness at his gifts.
In the end, he’d done the research, bought the cello, and snuck it into the small closet in the basement.
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
“I’m dying to go for a run,” Nick said the following weekend, stretching in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. “Wanna come with?”
“Actually,” Monroe said, “I need to call the diner, make sure it’s still standing.” He eyeballed Nick’s clothing, trying not to spend too much time over Nick’s well-muscled calves. “It’s still winter, you know.”
“Hey, it’s almost April, and it’s a beautiful day outside.”
“I’m just saying, you own a pair of sweats for a reason,” Monroe grumbled.
Nick laughed. “Says the man who doesn’t even own a pair of shorts.”
“I don’t own a lot of things,” Monroe protested, choosing to ignore the fact that he didn’t own a pair of shorts two years ago either. “Besides, a sweaty Reformer is pretty nasty. I wipe it down every morning, but it would be totally nasty if I worked out in shorts.” Just the idea of it almost made him shudder.
“Good point,” Nick allowed, unplugging his phone and grabbing his keys from the island.
“Wait,” Monroe said, suddenly feeling anxious about Nick running by himself. “Let me go change; I’ll call on the way.”
“You don’t have to – ”
“Two minutes!” Monroe ran up the stairs.
Smiling, Nick picked up his phone, checking his e-mail. He couldn’t help but shake his head at a text from Hank containing three words: “wine and dine”. Maybe Hank was right. At the very least, it wouldn’t hurt. After a moment’s consideration, he changed his plans. “How about we make a day of it?” He called upstairs.
Monroe tromped downstairs a few seconds later, pulling a sweatshirt over his head. “I’m not running all day,” he muttered.
“The trail I’m thinking about’s a little over three miles, but we can stop off on the way back, have dinner somewhere.”
Monroe looked them both over. “We’re going to be sweaty, you’re in shorts, I’m in sweats…”
“A picnic then,” Nick amended.
“I know you seem to be under this delusion that winter’s over, but it’s still pretty cold out there.”
“If I get cold, I’ll just have to use you to warm me up,” Nick teased, testing the waters as he looked up at Monroe from beneath his lashes.
Monroe’s ears grew red as he fumbled for his phone. “Let’s just go already.”
The day turned out better than Nick had expected, especially considering it was planned on the fly. He refused to tell Monroe where they were going, and the Blutbad continued making guesses each time they passed a road sign. A little less than ninety minutes later, Nick pulled into a small parking area, grabbing an annual pass out of his glove compartment and hanging it from his rearview mirror.
“Okay, so this is going to be more of a hike than a run,” he admitted, turning toward Monroe.
“I gathered that,” Monroe said, his small smile belying his rough tone.
“But I’m prepared,” Nick said. “I have some stuff in the trunk.” The last time he’d remembered hiking was when he’d gone after a rogue Dickfellig before he’d gotten Monroe back. He’d barely made it back alive after that one.
He still had the blue backpack in the trunk, filled with bottled water, energy bars, a small medical kit, and a few choice weapons.
“Hey,” Monroe said, pulling out a dusty green backpack. “I remember this! We were looking for that Hasslich, the one who’d messed with Bud.”
Nick laughed. “He’d fallen into that muddy spot and was horrified that it had ruined his suit.”
“That didn’t stop him from trying to take your head off, though.” Monroe put the first aid kit and half the water into his backpack.
“Getting those cuffs on him was a bitch.” Nick grabbed a few of Monroe’s water bottles and put them back into his pack.
“If you’d killed him, you wouldn’t have had to worry about that,” Monroe reminded him, this time taking all of the water, leaving Nick with the power bars and a sweatshirt. He gave Nick a look and quickly zipped up the pack. “And you wanted me to put him in my car!”
“Taking him ourselves instead of waiting for the cruiser would’ve saved us about an hour.” Nick decided to stop fighting Monroe, zipping up his own pack and closing the trunk.
“An hour that I would’ve had to use cleaning all of that mud out of my car. And let’s not even talk about the Hasslich smell! It just burrows in like a tick on a hound.”
They continued to banter, adjusting their conversations as they encountered other hikers along the way. They reached the lake, relaxing and eating a couple of energy bars before heading back to the car.
Along the way, Monroe had gotten hot, pulling off his sweatshirt and shoving it into his backpack. They’d used it to cover the ground while they’d rested at the lake, and it had ended up on Nick, his fingers disappearing underneath the long sleeves. Neither had mentioned it, or Nick’s own sweatshirt in his backpack, although Nick felt Monroe’s eyes on him more than once. He’d decided he would have no problems acknowledging that he liked having Monroe’s smell wrapped around him.
“It looks like a picnic is out,” Monroe said as he put on his seatbelt. He angled his head awkwardly to stare up at the darkening sky. “We probably have about half an hour before it dumps on us.”
“Don’t count out the picnic just yet,” Nick said, starting the car.
The rain started falling just about the time Monroe had predicted, sheets distorting the window, forcing Nick to slow to a crawl. He was thankful that Monroe remained silent, allowing him to focus on getting them home safely. Pulling up, he got the passenger side as close to the door as he could. “Go ahead inside. I’ll be back.”
“Where’re you going?”
“I’ll be back.” Nick knew he was being cryptic, but he wanted to surprise Monroe.
“Okay,” Monroe said, drawing out the word. “I’ll throw something together – ”
“Nope,” Nick said. “I got it covered. Take a shower, relax. I’m in charge of dinner tonight.”
Monroe stared at Nick for a second, his brow furrowed. Nick just gave him a benign smile and waited until Monroe had gotten safely into the house before he pulled away.
Entry with links to each chapter
