Eye of the Beholder

Chapter Three

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.

Instead, they shared a love so pure it was dazzling.

Jordan watched the exchange as well, a soft smile flirting with her mouth. The two men turned toward her, pulling her into their embrace, and suddenly Travis felt like a voyeur.

He quietly left the room, hoping to give the three lovers some privacy, and settled in on the couch in the spacious living room. He put his mug down on the coffee table and dug up the remote for the big screen TV Kir had recently installed.

“Oh Jesus God, my eyes. I think I’ll go out for breakfast. And use some Lysol, lots and lots of Lysol, when you clean that counter, okay?” Travis turned to find Jeff, a disgusted look on his face, stomping out of the kitchen. Kir’s deep throated laughter followed him. “Yuk it up, dickwad, but people have to prepare food in there. The last thing I want to taste is food à la ass.”

There was a thump from the kitchen as Kir’s laughter turned breathless. Travis figured he’d collapsed again from laughter.

“Um.” Jordan stood in the doorway, looking deliciously disheveled, a wild look on her face. “Bring back donuts?”

Jeff glared at her. “I am not bringing home anything that involves holes. God knows what those pervs would do with it.” He shrugged into his jacket, the disgust still on his face, but Travis could see the laughter trying to break through. Thank you, Jeff. Laughter was much needed around here right now, and bless Jeff for providing it.

“Oh, God.” Jordan hid her face in her hands. Logan’s deep voice wafted from the kitchen. “Breathe, Kir. C’mon, blondie.”

“What the hell is going on out here?” Travis turned to find Jamie standing in her bedroom door. “Are they having sex in the kitchen again?”

Jordan fled, heading back into the kitchen, a horrified look on her bright red face.

Jeff just stared at his sister. “What do you mean again?”

“Oh God.” Jordan’s muffled voice was nearly drowned out by Kir’s renewed laughter.

Jamie rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, like you’ve never had sex in a kitchen before.”

“I am not discussing sex with my sister.”

“You were discussing it with Jordan. Hell, from the sound of things they practically gave you a freakin’ tutorial.”

“Oh God.”

“It’s a little late to be embarrassed now, perv.” Jeff yelled toward the kitchen. “And you!” He pointed at Jamie, shaking his finger at her. “I am not discussing sex with you.”

“Oh, please. You’re just pissed because you ain’t gettin’ any.” Not even the swelling of her face could dim the South Philly accent or attitude she was throwing.

Travis sank down on the sofa, covering his mouth with his hand. Too much more and he’d be joining Kir in a heap on the floor.

Jeff threw that attitude right back at his twin. “Oh, yeah? When was the last time you got some?”

All traces of amusement disappeared under Jeff’s teasing question. Jamie wasn’t seeing anyone that Travis was aware of, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t gone out and found someone to fool around with.

Jamie’s smirk had Travis damn near growling in a caveman-like display. “More recently than you, I bet.”

Travis’s hand clenched. What? He sat up and stared at the woman who was currently glaring at her twin. His eyes narrowed as a flush crept up Jamie’s cheeks.

“The closest you’ve come is Vincente.” Jeff batted his eyelashes at Jamie outrageously. “Oh, Vincente. ”

Travis’s jaw clenched. Who the fuck was Vincente?

Jamie gasped, furious. “You leave Vincente alone.”

Whoever he was, he needed his ass kicked.

“It’s those gold lamé briefs. They get you every time.”

Travis winced. No fucking way. He was not shoving his ass into gold lamé briefs. Even for Jamie.

Hell, he didn’t even do that in the seventies.

“Oh, fuck off, Jeff.” Jamie flipped her brother the bird before limping back into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind her.

“On that note…” Jeff cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Hey, pervs! I’m heading out.

I’ll bring back some non-ass-tastic food, okay?”

“Oh, God.” Jordan’s mortified whimper had Travis almost smiling again, but the thought of fuckhead Vincente kept it from materializing.

“You keep praying to me, baby, eventually I’m going to answer.”

Jeff rolled his eyes at the sound of Logan’s voice, but he was smiling as he headed out the door.

Travis stared at Jamie’s closed door, one thought running through his mind.

Who the fuck was Vincente?