Free Polished by Alyssa Turner Page B

I’ll be right back.”
    Spencer turned toward her as Jack left them. “What about a shirt?”
    Rory shrugged. “It’s too hot. I wish I could go topless too.”
    Spencer shook his head. “You’re too much.” The idea of Rory sitting topless at the table along with the two of them, chatting lightly and asking for the parmesan cheese was more than a bit comical, but far from off-putting. He wanted to get up and pull her waist from behind while he told her how much he’d like to have her naked right now, but his damned ankle wouldn’t make that easy. A houseguest in the other room wouldn’t make it so easy either. Maybe if they were really quiet…
     

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Jack returned shirtless as predicted, rubbing his flat belly. “I am really starving. I think it’s been like twelve hours since I ate last.”
    Rory placed two plates piled with her last-minute culinary concoction on the table. The two men sat on either side of her, both inhaling deeply over their steaming dishes with hungry looks on their faces. She warmed at the thought. It pleased her to provide them sustenance after the ordeal they’d been through. Unable to help herself, she reached out and cupped Spencer’s face and planted a kiss to his cheek. It was a silent thank-you for coming out of the accident OK. He touched her hand and quirked his lips in response, all the “you’re welcome” she needed.
    “So what do you think will happen with the tunnel project now?” Rory asked between delicate bites. She’d served herself a small portion, perfectly measured according to the diet she’d taken up the past week.
    Jack visibly tensed at the subject and Spencer blew out a long sigh before answering, “Probably going to be some kind of long-drawn-out investigation.”
    “Does that mean the project will be on hold?” Rory asked. “Does that mean you’ll be home every night? No more overtime?”
    “I hope not, babe. I mean, I don’t really like working doubles, but it will be hard to say goodbye to that overtime cash. Soon as I get the all clear with this ankle, I wanna be back on the clock.”
    Jack cleared his throat. “This is really a fantastic meal, Rory. Spencer didn’t exaggerate about your talents.”
    Rory blushed. Something about the way he said that sent a curious rush through her body. He smiled bashfully, as if apologetic for the undercurrent in his tone. In the moment, she’d forgotten what they were talking about, focusing more on the thought that her gaydar might need more of a tune-up than Spencer’s. Recovering, she replied, “Thanks. I was the one who cooked in my house growing up.” She gulped her water. “Both my parents worked, so somehow I ended up experimenting in the kitchen after my homework was done. My brother suffered dearly as my guinea pig for a few years until I got the hang of things.”
    “Older brother?” Jack asked, looking truly interested in hearing more.
    Suddenly Rory was sorry she brought him up. “Brice is eight years older than me, but I haven’t seen him in a while.” She pressed her lips together, as if she wanted to stop herself from blurting out the whole sad story like a confessional decree. She shook her head and reverted to more small talk, driving the conversation toward the last good movie Jack had seen.
    Well past two in the morning, both men were fed and yawning in tandem. Rory got up to clear the dishes and promised to wash Jack’s clothes so they’d be ready for him in the morning.
    “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “Just show me where the washer is and I’ll take care of it.”
    “My mother would never let me hear the end of it.”
    “Do you tell your mother everything?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. There was that energy again in his just barely suggestive tone. She inhaled quickly and glanced at Spencer, whose sleepy eyes stared back at her.
    “We’ll take care of that in the morning.” Spencer pulled himself up from the table and grabbed his