Page 48 of Pretty Poison

Rocky caught a spark of anger in Asher’s eyes before he erected a mask of indifference. He hated that expression as much, if not more, than pity.

“I left this morning without grabbing a spare key out of the menu drawer.” Technically, it was a catch-all or junk drawer. Rocky kept batteries, spare keys, and small hand tools such as screwdrivers in the same drawer with the menus. Obviously, Asher knew that but wanted to get in another dig at his nonexistent kitchen skills. “Can I borrow yours? I’m going to finish up early today, and I’d like to do something nice to thank you for letting me stay.”

“Bet it won’t involve cleaning,” Rocky replied, getting in his own jab.

Asher snorted. “Hell no. I thought I’d cook a nice dinner for you. When was the last time you ate a homecooked meal?”

“My friends are great cooks, and we get together a lot.”

Asher’s shoulders slumped. He wanted to do something for Rocky that no one else could. And, boy, could he ever. It just didn’t involve food.

“But none of them cook amazing Irish dishes like you can,” Rocky said as he opened the middle drawer and removed his keyring. He worked the house key loose, then extended it to Asher. “So, if you’re in the mood to show off your skills, I’m in the mood to reap the benefits.”

Asher accepted the peace offering with a crooked grin. “I’m definitely in the mood.” Something dark, dangerous, and oh-so-alluring danced in his gaze, and his pirate smile made a reappearance, promising Rocky that he’d reap the benefits. “Dinner will be at six,” Asher said on his way to the door. “Don’t be late.”

Several snappy responses came to mind, but none of them formed on his lips. Rocky stared off into space for a few minutes after Asher left, trying to get his mind back on his caseload. Until Avery officially signed on, the brunt of the investigating was on his shoulders. Feeling needed was much preferred to being pitied, so he dove back into his work and pushed every other thought to the back burner.

A loud commotion outside Rocky’s second-story office window caught his attention sometime later. He pushed back from his desk and wandered closer to check out the newest dispute between the pair of blue jays who had taken up residence in the beech tree outside his office. Mrs. Blue Jay stood on the edge of her nest while Mr. Blue Jay perched two branches higher.

“Out of pecking range. Smart move, buddy,” Rocky said.

The missus tore into her mister with a litany of loud jeers and short whistles while he stared off into the distance as if he didn’t hear her. Everyone in a two-block radius could hear her shrieking. What had he done to deserve such a beatdown? Was he home late with supper? Had she caught him cuddling up to a different female? One who was outside their species, perhaps?

“I bet it was the slutty cardinal I saw hanging around here,” Rocky whispered. “I thought he chased her out of the tree, but maybe he just followed the tramp back to her nest.”

The more Mr. Blue Jay ignored his little lady, the more agitated she became. Rocky slowly rose to his feet and eased closer to the window, approaching at an angle so he didn’t frighten them away. Mrs. Blue Jay jumped down off the nest and began hopping along the branch. Mr. Blue Jay was probably many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. He flew higher up in the tree and returned her jeers and chirps.

“Whoa ho,” Rocky said. “Someone’s feeling plucky this afternoon, although that’s the equivalent to a passive-aggressive remark, buddy.”

Whatever Mr. Blue Jay had chirped didn’t sit well with the missus because she began flapping her wings. Her mister continued running his beak but kept moving toward the end of the branch, making a quick getaway a possibility. Rocky once again acknowledged the bird’s cunning display of survival instincts. The missus wasn’t one bit impressed, however.

“Men are such assholes,” Rocky said. Christ, he was losing his freaking mind. Talking to birds? Thank fuck he hadn’t really expected an answer.Right?

Mrs. Blue Jay flew up to his branch, and Rocky expected Mr. Blue Jay to make a break for it, but he surprisingly held his position as she hopped toward him, flapping her wings. Then they were beak to beak for a few seconds, and their shrill yelling at one another turned to a softer cooing. The knot of tension in his core tightened in recognition of their antics.

“I don’t believe it,” Rocky said. “Fighting is part of their foreplay.”

Sure enough, after a few more seconds of cooing and rubbing their beaks together, the female turned around. She lifted her tail feathers and exposed her cloaca; a term he’d learned from watching hours of Animal Planet when he couldn’t sleep.

“Hussy,” Rocky said. “Make his sorry ass work harder for it.”

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway. Rocky turned and found Trudy standing on the threshold. Her loony grin matched his behavior. What a pair they made.

“It’s time to go home,” Trudy said.

“Can’t be.” Rocky checked his watch and was stunned to see it was five o’clock already.

“Your husbandtold me he was making you a special dinner tonight.” Trudy’s voice was a mixture of curiosity and incrimination.

Rocky sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Things are always convoluted when a man is involved,” she said while tipping her head toward the activity outside his window.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“It’s best not to keep your man waiting,” she said. “He plans to have dinner ready at six.”

“Do you always do what your husband tells you, Trudy?”