Free Ripped by V. J. Chambers Page B

found some coffee and half a pound of bacon. I didn’t tend to eat bacon too often. Eating bacon tended to make me feel… heavy. I didn’t like it weighing in my gut when I was trying to haul ass after some mark that had managed to evade me—not that many marks got by me or anything. Still, in my line of work, I needed to stay fit.
    I didn’t have a problem with meat or anything, I just tended to stick to leaner cuts of meat. I didn’t eat a lot of carbs either.
    It wasn’t so much a diet…
    Oh, hell, okay, I was anal about shit too.
    Anyway, the choices were bacon and eggs or pancakes. Not only would the pancakes have been empty calories, they wouldn’t have stuck with me later.
    So, bacon and eggs it was.
    I got started on breakfast, hoping that Shell would wake up just from smelling it, even though it was early, and she hadn’t had much sleep either.
    She didn’t.
    So, I waited for a bit after everything was finished, and then I decided I’d just wake her up, considering the food was going to get cold otherwise.
    But her door was locked.
    I banged on it. “Shell, wake up.”
    A muffled response from the other side of the door.
    “I made breakfast,” I said.
    More noises from the other side of the door.
    Then Shell opened it. Her hair was mussed from sleep, and she was wearing an oversized flannel shirt that skimmed the tops of her thighs.
    Wow. I hadn’t thought about her being so uncovered.
    “You cook?” she said.
    I nodded. “Yeah.”
    “Are you a good cook?”
    “I like it,” I said, shrugging.
    “Because you’re from England, right, and English food is supposed to be horrible, not that I’d know, because I’ve never been there or anything. It’s just what you hear.”
    “I haven’t lived in England since I was ten,” I said. “And if the food isn’t good, it’s because you had a shit selection.” I turned and walked up the hallway.
    Within minutes, Shell had joined me. She’d taken the time to smooth her hair back into a sloppy ponytail on top of her head, but she hadn’t put on any pants or anything.
    I gazed at her bare legs, wanting to pick her up, set her on the counter, and order her to slowly open her knees to me.
    I sat down at the table instead and began attacking my eggs as if they had caused me personal insult.
    “You’re in a bad mood,” she observed, sitting down. “Is it because you suck at getting my sister back?”
    “I’m not in a bad mood.” I popped a bite of eggs into my mouth. I chewed.
    She picked up a fork and shoveled some of the eggs into her mouth. “Not bad,” she said around her mouthful.
    I pointed my fork at her. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?”
    She blushed.
    It made her look even prettier. I turned back to the food, resolving to keep my mouth shut.
    “So, what are we going to do today?” she said.
    Just when I decide to be quiet, she asks me a question. “ We aren’t going to do anything. I’m going to go back to the drawing board, trying to figure out where Ice went. We’ve got two days. You should probably stick with me, because you might not be safe on your own, but I don’t think we should stay at your apartment any longer. Your couch is seriously uncomfortable.”
    “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I just sort of panicked when Celia was throwing around accusations…” She took a drink of orange juice.
    “She mentioned an ex,” I said. “Is he the guy who was here last night?”
    “You were spying on me, weren’t you?”
    I shrugged. “Is he?”
    “Yes,” she said. She picked up a piece of bacon and stared at it. “He’s gay.”
    “I thought you said he was your ex.”
    “He is. He figured out he was gay about a month before we were set to get married.”
    I winced. “I’m sorry, love. That sounds…”
    “It was a nightmare.”
    I ran my finger around the rim of my coffee mug. “If he was gay, how come you didn’t…”
    “Notice?”
    I wrinkled up my nose, realizing that was