Hidden in the Blood: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 5)

Chapter Forty-Seven: Al, Sunday

"Still, your kids better not catch her up there, or she'll have some explaining to do," Rachel said. "At least when I was up there with you I had the excuse of needing a comfortable place to sleep while my ribs were healing." 

"If she was just going to sleep," Al said, "why didn't you stay up there? Your bed's bigger and more comfortable than this one for three, even if one of you is Joe."

"Uh, no thanks," Lauren said. "I'd much rather share a bed with you two."

Al was so touched by her words that he couldn't help leaning in to kiss her. "And anyway," Lauren went on, "I couldn't stay in that room. Both of them reeked of smoke; that explosion and fire must have been a bad one."

"Hopefully Logan didn't see you come in here," Rachel said.

"I didn't see him, and his door was closed." 

"Well, as nice as it is to wake up to you, babe," Rachel said, "I think we'd better get up and be out of this room before anyone discovers you're not in yours."

Lauren sighed and nodded. "Want to help me make breakfast, Al?"

"Thank goodness Al's back," Rachel said. "I was getting tired of cooking."

Al enjoyed helping Lauren in the kitchen. It was something he shared with her that he didn't with his wife, who preferred getting takeout or going to restaurants to cooking. He found cooking to be relaxing and, surprisingly, sensual: the scents of food and spices, the sound of sizzling meat in the pan, the feel of the knife slicing through vegetables, the taste of the end result. It made his senses come alive and, when Lauren was with him, the two of them trading off duties so seamlessly it looked like a dance, he had to fight the urge to put his hands on her waist and draw her in to literally dance her around the kitchen. This morning, while no one else was on this floor with them, she sank into him while she was flipping pancakes, and he nuzzled her neck, making her giggle in delight. Remembering what she did with him last night, he felt himself swelling against Lauren's backside, and she cooed, "Al, the others will be down soon, cool your jets."

"I can't help it. You're so fetching in your tank top and boxers."

She turned to face him, and her nipples were poking through the cotton of her tank top. She grabbed his face and kissed him hard, then broke off and said, "That will have to do for now."

Rachel emerged from the basement with more layers on than Lauren, and when she noticed Lauren's state of excitement she raised her eyebrows. "Really, guys? I think you need to get more clothes on, babe, before you scandalize the children."

"I don't want to go upstairs and risk discovering hanky panky had indeed gone on," Lauren said.

She didn't need to worry. Joanie was already descending the stairs. The three of them stared at her like deer caught in the headlights. Joanie, who was in just a small robe, stared back at them and said, "I think I left my overnight bag down here by mistake. I need to get changed."

"Okay," Lauren said.

Finally Al found his voice and said, "We're happy you're here and safe, Joanie. If there's anything you need..."

Joanie shrugged. "Joe mentioned maybe staying at your place for a while."

"Oh!" Al looked at Rachel, who shrugged. "Sure. I'm sure Agnes will be okay sharing."

"Wait, hold on," Lauren said. "Did Patrick move into that house? The one in Queensborough?"

Joanie blinked in surprise. "Yes. I stayed there a night or two." 

To Al's horror, Joanie's face crumpled, and she furiously wiped tears away. "Shit," she hissed.

To everyone's surprise, Lauren came forward and hugged her. Instead of making Joanie cry harder, though, it seemed to shock her out of her grief, maybe because she was painfully aware there wasn't a whole lot of fabric between them, and Joanie awkwardly patted her on the back.