Page 25 of Devil's Hour
Laughter led to kissing and touching, but both men were still too spent to do much more than that. They watched TV in bed while Bones gave himself a bath by their feet. Royce fell asleep duringTheLate ShoworThe Late Late Showand slept peacefully without nightmares until a ringing phone woke him up.
Royce picked up his phone and saw it was Chief Rigby. “Fuck,” he groaned, knowing something big had happened if she was personally calling him at an ungodly hour. “Chief?”
“The Purists have struck again.”
Royce’s brain sparked to life with her words. “Another fire at a vacant structure?”
“Not this time,” she said tersely. “I’m currently standing outside the mayor’s house.” Royce let out a sharp whistle.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Do you want me to wake up the others on the task force?” One of those members sat up in bed beside him and turned on his bedside lamp after hearing Royce’s somber tone.
“That’s not necessary. I’ll call Blue, but you can brief the others in the morning. There’s no use in dragging everyone out of bed at this time.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“See you soon,” Chief told him before disconnecting.That’s how you end a phone conversation, Call Me Skip.
“The Purists?” Sawyer asked when Royce set his phone back down.
He threw back the covers but didn’t get out of bed yet. “Yeah. Chief wants me at the mayor’s house.” Royce repeated what he knew so far, including the personnel she requested on site. Cupping Sawyer’s neck, he pulled him forward for a quick kiss. “Go back to sleep.”
“Yeah, right.” He flopped back down and burrowed under the covers, but Royce knew his brilliant mind would toss around every scenario. He’d give up before long and hit the gym. “Who’s the golden boy, now?”
Royce chuckled at his playful pout. “I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as possible.” Then he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.Ouch. He still felt Sawyer, all right.Stifling the urge to gasp, Royce strode toward the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash cold water on his face.
Behind him, Royce heard Sawyer make a strangled sound, which was followed by rustling sheets. He spun around and noticed Sawyer had pulled the covers up, hiding the bottom half of his face. The dim lighting caught the wicked glee in Sawyer’s dark brown eyes. Then his body started shaking and muffled sounds came from beneath the covers.
Narrowing his eyes in disbelief, Royce said, “Are you laughing at my discomfort?”
Sawyer pulled the covers up over his head. “No,” came his muted voice.
“Sure sounds like it.”
He pulled the covers down. “I’m laughing at your attempts to hide it from me.”
Royce rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want you mothering me and smearing cream on my asshole or something.” Sawyer’s laugh turned into a giggle. “I’ll be fine,” Royce said, walking away with as much dignity as he could muster. “It’s mostly just stiff muscles.”Maybe yoga wasn’t such a bad idea.
When he exited the bathroom, he was surprised to see the bed empty. Then he smelled coffee and quickly got dressed in the clothes he’d brought over when they dropped his car off the previous night before going to Joe’s. Sawyer was doctoring a travel mug for him when he reached the kitchen.
“Is this your attempt at an apology?” Royce asked, accepting the mug.
“Sorta. It was rude, but it’s all your fault.”
“Because I don’t practice yoga like you?”
“No, because you made a comment about the detectives in our unit guessing who’s topping and bottoming. I bet there’s a pool. They bet on everything else.”
Royce groaned. “Damn, you’re probably right. No way we’re letting them win that easy.” Royce kissed Sawyer soundly on the mouth, wishing he could linger.
Sawyer opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a gold house key. “Here,” he said, extending it to Royce. “In case you get done early enough to come back here and start the day as we’d planned.” Royce stared down at the metal object too long without moving, so Sawyer naturally mistook his hesitation for panic and began to retreat.
Royce reached up and snatched it from his hand and slid it in his front pocket. “I wasn’t freaking out.” Sawyer snorted. “Okay, maybe a little, but it was more like feeling overwhelmed by how right this feels.”
Sawyer sucked in a sharp breath. “So fucking good at this. Now get the hell out of here before you piss off the chief by being late.”
One last kiss and Royce headed to his car. If it weren’t for the fucking vigilante group, he might’ve skipped. Then again, if it weren’t for The Purists, he’d still be where he truly wanted to be—in bed with Sawyer.
He had told the chief he’d make it in fifteen and made it in twelve, but the fire trucks and police cars blocking the street prevented Royce from parking close to the property. He illegally parked his Camaro and headed down the street at a brisk walk since his shoulder was smarting from the foot chase yesterday.