Page 74 of Ride or Die

She huffed a laugh and crouched down.

“Why don’t you like him, scary baby?” she whispered, petting Cookie around his ears. He shook her off and reasserted his stance. “Alright, tough guy. Message received.” She got to her feet and leaned against the counter to wait.

Saint had mentioned Cookie was quite sexist.

Another set of footsteps sounded, and Cookie’s ears pricked forward, a wave of tension thrumming through him.

“Is he charging admission now?” A smooth, articulate voice floated into the loft, and Wheeler moved to the side, making room on the landing.

“Nah, our dear friend Cookie is just defending his territory. I don’t want to stress him out.”

“That seems wise. He hates you,” the other man said as he shuffled the paper grocery bags he carried. “His hearing is sensitive.”

Riley smothered a snort.

“He hates you too, Aaron.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s just afraid of me. He’s an intelligent creature.” Aaron stepped around Wheeler, moving like a dancer, all lean muscle and poise. His black hair was tied in a knot at the top of his head, highlighting wide cheekbones. He could have been anywhere from his late twenties to early forties, Riley couldn’t tell.

“Smart,” Wheeler muttered, frowning as he watched Cookie watch Aaron. The low growl was inaudible, but Riley could feel it.

Aaron carried two overflowing bags of fresh produce and walked across the loft, loafers quiet on the floor. He set the groceries down on the other side of the counter.

“Hi Riley, it’s nice to meet you.” Aaron looked at her, and her eyes widened. If Wheeler had boyish good looks, Aaron was beautiful. His features were delicate, but something dangerous lurked in the depths of his gaze. His light brown skin was flawless, and Riley would guess that he modelled in his time off, or was hassled to, relentlessly. He was shorter than both Wheeler and Saint, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating.

“You too,” she said, shifting forward and then back. “Do you need help with anything?”

He shook his head softly, midnight eyes on hers. “No.” He reminded her of some of her dad’s friends. The ones he didn’t let into the house, but who would stop by occasionally to smoke on the porch.

Aaron’s gaze skimmed her, pausing on Saint’s oversized shirt, and she thought she saw a hint of a smile.

Aaron unloaded the groceries, pulling out peppers, cilantro, and a variety of vegetables. He moved with a quiet grace, deft and precise.

Cookie leaned against her, and she used the warmth to ground herself. She smiled at Aaron. “Let me know if I can help later, anytime.”

“You’re fine. I’ll tell you if that changes.”

She shivered at the tone, soft and alluring but undeniably dangerous, if only because it made her feel like she could drop her guard.

She trusted Saint’s judgment, but she’d never met them before and Cookie was nervous around them. She couldn’t relax, no matter how pretty they were.

Cookie pushed her back farther into the kitchen. She lifted herself onto the counter, perched in the corner. Wheeler leaned against the doorway and watched them with a slight smile, shoulders almost as wide as the frame.

Cookie whined at her feet.

“You waiting for a handwritten invitation? Move,” Saint barked and then shouldered past Wheeler. He found Riley in the kitchen, and his shoulders released. Cookie trotted out of the kitchen and found his bed in the living room, circling until he collapsed with a huff.

Wheeler tracked the dog, and only once Cookie was lying down did he enter the apartment.

Saint walked into the kitchen and rested a hand on Aaron’s shoulder as he passed. Aaron nodded and continued preparing the food, silently communicating their greeting. Or it seemed like that’s what they were doing. Some sort of telepathy from working together for so long. Andrew’d had it with some of his cop buddies.

Aaron had found a frilly apron and put it on over his slacks and button-up. Had he brought it with him?

Saint glanced at Riley’s flannel shirt, and the heat in his gaze warmed her more than the fabric ever could. “Looks good on you,” he murmured, too low for the others to hear. “How was Cookie?”

She scooted closer to him but stayed on the counter. “He didn’t let me leave the kitchen when Wheeler arrived.”

“Yeah, sorry. I should have mentioned that. He guards. Likes having a job.”