School of Fish (Fish Out of Water #6) - Amy Lane Page 0,7
Jackson in when his own mother had bailed on the job of family while they’d all been in middle school. Jackson and Jade had spent part of their lives as on-again/off-again lovers of convenience, but in truth, the dynamic that worked best for them was as brother and sister.
“Which is exactly why she’ll kill you.” Ellery scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Look, Jenny Probst at the public defender’s office wants me to take a pro bono case. I need some vetting. She’s pretty sure the kid is innocent, but he won’t speak up in his own defense. She wants some help getting him off, if she can. She says he wasn’t made for jail. If you want, I can let you vet the case, look into it, maybe even help me interview him, but you can’t leave the office. Is that understood?”
“Not even for lunch?” Inwardly he winced. God, he just had to push it one more inch.
“If you’re good,” Ellery said sweetly, “we can have lunch together.”
Jackson paused, thinking that even though they’d been shut in together for much of the past eight weeks while Ellery and Jackson’s family monitored his recovery, this was still an attractive prospect.
“Fine,” he said, thinking. “Define good.”
“I’ve got a meeting. I’ve got to go. But I’ll send Henry back for you. You may pick the files up from the PD’s office. Come directly to our office with them. Do not pass go. Do not save children from the burning building—that’s what the fire department is for—and do not rescue kittens from trees.”
Jackson grinned at him, so happy he could practically dance. “But if I rescue the kitten from the tree, does that mean I can keep the kitten!”
Ellery’s eyes narrowed to slits. “No.”
“But you’re still going to send Henry for me?” Jackson asked, following as Ellery turned to go.
“Maybe.”
“But we still get to have lunch together, right?” he prodded, on Ellery’s heels as he strode down the hallway, barely pausing to scratch Billy Bob on the stomach where he now sprawled on the kitchen table without shame.
Jackson followed Ellery’s scratch, and the cat doubled up, kicking with his back leg and biting.
“You traitor!” Jackson gasped, scooping the snarling animal into his arms. “You’re supposed to love me best.”
“It’s the stomach, Jackson,” Ellery said. “He gets one scratch on his stomach per day.”
“You,” Jackson said in outrage, “bogarted my cat!”
Ellery turned to him, his expression severe but his eyes dancing. “You could always spend the day getting another one so we don’t freak this one out with too much attention.”
Billy Bob had calmed down and was now rubbing his nose and whiskers systematically on Jackson’s shoulder to make up for the several scratches that graced his forearm.
“I,” Jackson said with dignity, “will be having lunch with you.” He sobered. “Besides, we have a Jackson cat. We need an Ellery cat.”
Ellery’s eyes darted sideways and his usually pale cheeks sported red crescents. “What kind of cat is an Ellery cat?” he asked.
“A dignified cat,” Jackson said. “Gray, like a pinstriped suit. Or tiger-striped, but dignified. Ooh, or black, like a little panther. Sleek and elegant.” He looked at Billy Bob, who had flopped into the crook of Jackson’s arm and was drooling complacently. “Something sane.”
Ellery still couldn’t meet his eyes, that shyness that sometimes took Jackson by the throat very much apparent. “We can look this weekend,” he said, biting his lip, and Jackson dumped his affronted cat on the ground to press Ellery back against the connecting door between the kitchen and the garage.
“Lotsa things we can do this weekend,” he purred.
Ellery’s eyes danced again. “We do that a lot.” But it didn’t sound like he minded.
“Not full up yet,” Jackson told him, moving in slowly so he could smell Ellery’s aftershave, his clean precision, his minty take-on-the-day scent before moving in for the kiss. He captured Ellery’s mouth and tried to devour that smell, that excitement, whole.
Ellery responded, mouth open, cupping Jackson’s face with his smooth, manicured hands. The kiss ended before it really began, and Ellery groaned and leaned his forehead against Jackson’s.
“I might not ever be full up,” he said wickedly. Then he sighed. “But I am late.”
“Fine,” Jackson said, but then he remembered he’d won. “Henry and I will be by the office before lunch.”
“Good. I’ve got some stuff you can do from the office then.” He gave Jackson another quick kiss and slid out the garage door, leaving Jackson to dress for the day.