Free Valor on the Move by Keira Andrews Page A

downstairs earlier, but they hadn’t said a word.
    “It’s not your responsibility to make things easier for us, Rafael.”
    Rafa shrugged. “Why not? You’re responsible for my life. It’s pretty much the least I can do. Oh, and call me Rafa. Everyone does.”
    Shane regarded him for a moment before nodding.
    “So it’s just you and me all night?” The words were barely out when Rafa wished desperately he could reel them back. This is why you shouldn’t talk. The tips of his ears burned, and he concentrated on the sauce, stirring it vigorously.
    “Well, you and me and all the other security staff. Guess you’re never really alone.”
    Okay, it seemed fine. Shane was being normal, and hadn’t read anything sexual into what he’d said. Rafa exhaled. “Yeah. Not really. At school, my detail’s always in the hallway. I get the closest to alone here, actually. The third floor’s mine, for the most part. And when my parents are away and the second floor’s empty, I can almost imagine there’s no one around for miles.” Now you’re babbling. Stop. He drained the ravioli in a colander, and curiosity got the better of him. “Isn’t it boring?”
    As usual, Shane’s expression was even. “What?”
    “Protecting people. Spending hours and hours with me or whoever. Standing outside doorways, or in the corner of rooms. Watching crowds for danger. Do you even get to eat while you’re working?”
    “Sometimes.”
    “Sometimes you get to eat, or sometimes it’s boring?”
    “Both.”
    “Well, I hope you’re hungry now.”
    “I can always eat.”
    “A man after my own heart.” Rafa smiled, and—holy shit—Shane actually smiled back. It was just for a moment, a flash of teeth and the corners of his mouth lifting, but it was a smile. Butterflies fluttered to life in Rafa’s stomach, and he wanted to make Shane smile again. He wondered what sort of things Shane liked. Did he have hobbies?
    Stop thinking about him like that. This is NOT A DATE, you loser.
    Keeping his eyes on his work, Rafa gently placed three ravioli in the center of a shallow bowl. Then he spooned the sauce over and sprinkled a few toasted pecans on top. “Um, here. You can try this while I cut the bread.” He picked up his bread knife and went to work on the warm baguette. The chopping board had been in the kitchen when they’d moved in, and Rafa loved all the old cut marks on the worn wood. For some reason it made him feel…safe, maybe. He glanced up. Shane was still barely inside the kitchen. “You can come in, you know. I won’t bite.” Shit. Did that sound like a come-on?
    “Should I use my hands?”
    “What?” Rafa dropped the knife, and it slid off the board and clattered to the floor, narrowly avoiding his leather-clad foot. He squawked out a laugh. “Whoops. And oh, uh, I’ll get you a fork. Sorry.” He laughed nervously again.
    Shane only raised an eyebrow. “Should I get the first aid kit out just in case? Tonight you’re wearing shoes, at least.”
    “Definitely learned my lesson.” After rescuing the bread knife from the floor, Rafa opened and closed drawers, suddenly unable to remember where the cutlery lived. When he found it, he yanked out a knife and fork and thrust them at Shane, who leaned back. Great. Stab the guy. That’ll make things so much better. “Sorry. Um, here you go.”
    Shane took the cutlery. With his bowl on the counter, he sliced into a ravioli and took a bite. After a moment, he mumbled, “Mmm.”
    Rafa exhaled and went back to the bread. He likes it. Does he like it? It seems like he likes it. Play it cool. “Do you like it?” he blurted. Yep. Real cool.
    “I do.” Shane took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Nice sweetness with the onion. The mushroom…it’s good.”
    “No, the mushroom what? Don’t just tell me what I want to hear. I have enough sycophants in my life.”
    The corner of Shane’s mouth twitched. “Fair enough. The mushrooms might be a little