Page 35 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne

Jacob Marley starts up a loud, rumbling purr, which vibrates through my chest, but even though I’m warm and snug and enjoying the good graces of my usually prickly cat, I can’t help but wonder what Danny’s up to.

After we found the book earlier, we locked the cupboard back up. It didn’t feel right snooping around. I’m pretty sure there’s family stuff in there that I’m not supposed to see. When the time’s right, I’ll give the key to Mr Hadley. Then if they find Viv’s son, he can decide what he wants to do with the contents of the book shop. Although I have to admit, with the amount of stuff that’s crammed into that building, it could take decades to sort through.

But regardless of Chan’s determination to sneak some of the vintage clothes out and Danny’s desperate desire to start rooting through all those war documents, I managed to herd everyone out and lock up. As we only live a short walk from the bookshop, Chan collected Aidan from our spare room and took him home, and I have no doubt Chan’s eager to get ready for his date with Death—and that still doesn’t get any less weird to say.

Harrison took the ashes from the hex bags to dispose of and what was left of Viv’s bottle of magic moonshine. He’s going to see if he can figure out what it was laced with and why. Sam—well, I don’t know where Sam disappeared to. Which just left me and Danny to crawl back into bed and take the nap we both desperately needed.

I reach out and fumble for my glasses on the nightstand, sliding them clumsily onto my face, then pick up my phone with one hand while I absently stroke Jacob Marley’s back with the other. My stomach lets out a loud rumble as I check the time. Dinner time. No wonder I’m wide awake—we skipped breakfast and lunch and now that I’m thinking about food, I’m ravenous.

Lifting my head, I drop a kiss on Jacob Marley’s nose. “Sorry, baby, I have to go see where your other daddy is.”

Shifting him onto Danny’s side of the bed, I crawl out from under the warm covers. I pad out of the bedroom clad in my socks, comfy sweatpants, and my favourite of Danny’s band t-shirts, which he is not ever getting back. He’s allowed to wearit for very short periods after it’s been washed so he can make it smell like him, but that’s it. It’s mine. Claimed. If I had a flag and was standing at the top of Everest, I’d plant it. Possession is nine-tenths of the law… apparently.

As I wander out of the bedroom still clutching my phone, the most delicious smell hits me. Oh my, god bless all the sweet baby angels in heaven that brought Danny into my life, he’s cooking his lasagne.

I pause in the kitchen doorway and watch as Danny leans down to remove a lasagne dish from the oven. He’s barefoot and wearing nothing but grey sweatpants and leaving his hairy chest bare, which is not surprising considering I keep stealing all his favourite t-shirts. My mouth waters and honestly, I can’t tell if it’s from the food or my gorgeous fiancé looking all kinds of sinful deliciousness.

I glance over at the kitchen table, which he’s set with cutlery and drinks. In the middle is an ornate jar filled with twinkling fairy lights because everyone knows I’m not to be left near candles without an emergency fire extinguisher on hand.

“Hey,” I say softly. He looks up as he sets the dish on the counter to cool.

His gaze runs over me, from my mismatched socks to the sweatpants with a tear in the knee, past his t-shirt and up to my wild bedhead. I’m pretty sure I also have a pillow crease up my cheek, but he gives me the most beautiful smile and my heart stutters.

“Hey, you’re up.” I cross the kitchen, tossing my phone down on the table as I pass it, and wrap my arms around his waist, tilting my head up so I can see his blue eyes.

“You should have woken me. I’d have helped with dinner.”

He lifts his hand and smooths my hair. “You were tired.”

“What about you?”

“I slept some.” He shrugs. “But my brain was too full. I decided to get up and make some notes.”

I glance at the counter behind him and see an open notebook filled with his handwriting.

“And?”

“We can talk about it over dinner.” He leans down and brushes his lips against mine.

I lift my arms and wrap them around his neck, feeling his arms wind around my waist and his hands dip under my t-shirt to skim the warm skin of my lower back. I sigh in contentment and open my mouth as he slides his tongue into my mouth, tasting me languidly. My head feels fuzzy and not from the residual magic mojo from last night. It’s him, his scent surrounds me—freshly showered, familiar and comforting. He kisses me like we have all the time in the world, taking me apart and putting me back together at the same time.

I could do this. All. Day.

That is, until our cat saunters into the kitchen and gives a loud, disgruntled meow. Danny pulls back and I lazily open my eyes to smile up at him with what I’m sure is a very satisfied look. He gives me a quick light peck to my swollen lips and smiles.

“Take a seat, love.”

Jacob Marley yowls again as Danny releases me, and I slide bonelessly into my seat at the kitchen table. I feel so content. Over the past year of constant strange happenings, I’ve learned to take these moments as they come and squeeze every drop of happiness I can from them, even if it happens while sitting in a dimly lit kitchen wearing ratty old sweatpants while the love of my life fills our cat’s dinner bowl.

Perfect.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything?” I ask.

“No, it’s pretty much done.” He straightens up as Jacob Marley ungraciously sticks his whole face into his dinner.

Serving the lasagne onto plates, Danny places them on the table and takes a seat next to me. “I messaged Maddie. She’s going to see if she can get us a copy of Viv’s file.”

“That would be helpful. What were the notes you were going over?” I nod towards his notebook as I pick up my knife and fork.