“I did that last night.”
“You should do it again. It’s still swelling.”
“I need to get to work. The schedule—”
“Can be adjusted. Now, stop stalling.” Ed forced Sam onto one of the stools, and Sam didn’t fight him.
He gathered ice into a dish towel, twisted the end of it to hold it in place, and returned to rest the cloth over Sam’s bruises. Sam reached up to take it from him, and there was a spark, like a shock of electricity where their skin touched.
“Must be those cold hands,” Sam said with a shudder. “Or your electric personality.”
Ed snorted and sat on the stool beside him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“But you don’t want to talk about it?”
“I really don’t.” Sam closed his eyes, relaxing into the ice.
“Okay.” Ed had no right to pry, but he couldn’t help the worry he felt. The thought of someone hurting Sam made him want to hunt that person down and….
Well, best not to allow any more unplanned detours.
“You’re wearing a bow tie again,” Sam said after a few quiet moments, fighting what finally looked like a genuine smile.
“Yes. Is there something wrong with it?”
“No. It’s fine, just a little… dated.”
“You mean old-fashioned.” Ed frowned.
“Well, unless it’s black and accompanied by a tux, yeah.”
“I’ve seen plenty of fashionable young men wearing bow ties.”
“They’re not fashionable, they’re hipsters.”
Ed gave way to a chuckle, unable to maintain his frown when Sam had so much warmth in his eyes. “Is it really so awful?”
“No. Some people can make it work. I just think you’d look better without it.” Sam reached up, hesitated a moment, but finished the trek to tug on the end of Ed’s tie. He had very deft fingers, even when only being able to use the one hand, and had it undone in no time.
Ed’s eyes never once left Sam’s.
“Magic,” Sam said, pulling the tie from Ed’s neck, rolling it in his hand, and then—poof—it was gone.
“Better?” Ed nodded at his attire.
“You could stand to lose the sweater vest too.”
“Now you’re just trying to undress me.” Ed laughed. Then he realized what he’d said. “I-I mean….”
“It’s okay,” Sam saved him, smiling softly as he pulled the tie from his lap to set it on the counter. “Technically, I was.”
Ed glanced down at the tie between them, if only to get the heat in his cheeks under control. “Shall we see what it says for Gemini?” he said, reaching for the paper. “‘Break out of any restrictions that might be keeping you from doing what you want. Things should naturally flow your way, and you should be in a good mood for most of your waking hours.’
“What do you think?” Ed risked a glance up again, finding Sam’s expression stoic. “Sam?”
“Sorry. It’s just hard to believe you’re for real sometimes.”
“I’m hardly a saint.”
“You sure about that?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“At this point, I’m having trouble finding evidence to the contrary.”
Ed felt his cheeks redden again. “Well, while you try to find my faults, why don’t I make you some coffee, and we can multitask by going over those itemizations you wanted to start today.”
“Deal,” Sam said, smiling again, if a little somberly.
“And I’m sorry if I was a little rough earlier.” Ed nudged Sam’s sunglasses across the counter.
“Why don’t you keep those for when the light bothers you? I don’t really need them.”
“Really?” Ed had never owned sunglasses and was charmed by the thought, picking them up to try them on. “What do you think?”
“You could still stand to lose the sweater vest.”
Ed laughed and swatted Sam’s shoulder. He supposed it had been a while since he’d rethought his wardrobe. As they chuckled, he set the sunglasses down again and started to fuss about the kitchen to make coffee.
Ed liked the way Sam watched him, the way he always looked at him with tenderness, even if Ed wasn’t what Sam thought he was.
At some point, they discussed Ed’s holdings and property ownership like the schedule dictated, but he wouldn’t have been able to say at what time they left the kitchen.
Everything revolved around Sam’s kitchen—or Ed’s lately.
Sam would rather be in Ed’s right now.
“You idiot! Why the hell didn’t you take me with you?” Mim griped, having finally heard the news about last night and getting a look at Sam’s bruises. The ice had helped the swelling but not the ugly colors.
“It was a show of faith. I showed faith, and they showed me what a dumbass I am.”
Gerry snickered, handing Sam a glass of water and some painkillers. They were gathered around the table again, since there weren’t many other options in the loft. They rotated between sleeping on the bed, the pullout, and the recliner.
“Company wouldn’t have changed anything,” Sam continued. “There were three of them. Five counting the Cramers. I’m lucky I only got their fists, but I’m not taking any more chances. I don’t need you two looking this pretty.” He sneered as he swallowed down the pills.
“We could split town,” Mim said. “Or take the money and then run.”
“I’m not looking over my shoulder the rest of my life.”
“And we’re supposed to only steal from the awful rich,” Gerry protested, “not sweet, blushing, perfectly nice—”
“I did not say blushing,” Sam broke in.
“Swooning?”
“I said stuttering.”
“So, he’s not blushing or swooning?”
“He’s… both. A little.”
“Great,” Mim groused. “Maybe try not making him stutter and blush and swoon, because odds are, you’re still going to have to rob him or we’re all dead. Even before we knew about your brilliant house call last night, we were already worried about the Cramers when Gerry overheard a little rumor from the new waitress.”
“What rumor?” Sam asked.
“Lara,” Gerry said dreamily, and then snapped back to attention. “Um… remember how the Cramers only just moved to Riverside?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Lara said she heard that in the last couple weeks, basically around the same time they moved here, there have been increasing missing persons reports and a mutilated body found last night.”
“What?” Sam paled.
“It’s pretty gruesome.” Gerry had his laptop on the table and turned it toward Sam. “Someone got pictures and posted it all over online.”
The images on the screen made Sam’s stomach churn. He couldn’t even tell that it used to be human. “Shit.”
“Lara didn’t mention the Cramers outright, but the timing’s a little too perfect.”