Page 45 of 'Til All the Seas Run Dry

He smirked, his eyes bright and teasing. “Don’t tell her that. Can I make you some eggs?”

Jory hesitated. She needed to go home and change clothes, to drink coffee in her silent kitchen where she could begin sifting and sorting through her tangle of thoughts. But at the same time, she didn’t really want to be alone.

“Is that bacon?” she asked, noticing the plate next to the stove.

“Hell yeah it is,” he said, smiling widely again, flashing a better look at those slightly crooked teeth, the way one crossed a bit in front of the other.

She sat on a stool at the island while Robbie went to the fridge and took out eggs, tossing them into the air and catching them before cracking them into a bowl.

“Coffee’s over there,” he said, tipping his head to the coffeemaker in the corner.

Jory poured herself a cup before returning to her seat, watching as Robbie reheated the skillet and swirled butter around it. He poured the eggs in and scrambled them with a silicone spatula before expertly turning them out onto a plate. Robbie added two strips of bacon and set the plate in front of her with a flourish, wiping a spot of butter off the rim with a towel.

“Such service,” she teased, and he shrugged.

“Just taking care of Boss’s lady.”

“I’m not his lady,” she said, swallowing a mouthful of eggs.

He lifted an eyebrow.

“I’m not,” she protested again before shoveling in another bite.

Jory ate while Robbie cleaned the skillet, wiping it out and setting it back on the stove.

“Doesn’t Boss ever feed you?” Robbie teased, turning around and seeing her nearly empty plate. He swiped the plate of bacon off the opposite counter and held it out to her. She selected another piece and took a bite.

“We, uh, haven’t spent much time together in a long time.”

Robbie nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I have to feed myself, obviously, when Magda doesn’t, so I’ll just start making enough for two.”

Magda.Again.Jory wasn’t at all surprised that Magda would be here feeding this golden retriever of a man, but she wouldn’t be joining him.

“You don’t have to do that. I won’t be here often.”

That clearly surprised him. “Why not?”

She had to think about it for a moment. “We’re just friends. Friends don’t spend every free moment at each other’s houses. Friends don’t eat all their meals together. Friends don’t hang out all the time.”

“Sure they do,” he replied.

“Friends have their own lives.”

“Sometimes,” Robbie allowed. “But y’all aren’treallyfriends.”

“We’re certainly not more than friends,” she snapped defensively. “Not anymore.”

He held his hands up in surrender. In that thick accent, the words slow and syrupy coming out of his mouth, he said, “I reckon y’all are in the in-between. You used to be way more than friends, and now you’re… not.”

“How do you know Callum, Robbie?” Jory asked, changing the subject without any attempt at grace.

“Through the blood donor program.”

“I’m sorry?”

Robbie rubbed the back of his neck. “Boss started a database for humans who are willing to be blood donors for vampires. Kind of like a dating service, I guess? Or a matchmaker? I dunno. Anyway, I was on the registry, and his assistant called me one day and asked me in. That was”—he paused, looking up at the ceiling as if counting backwards—“three months ago?”

“And you also run errands for him? Stalk women?”