“Let’s go, warrior princess. Time for dinner.”
“I wasn’t a warrior princess, I was an assassin,” I told him.
Hank smiled at me.
My heart fluttered.
I ral ied. “Anyway, we just had lunch,” I said as Hank pul ed me out of the chair.
“Five hours ago,” Luke put in.
I stopped and stared at Luke, openmouthed.
“No shit?” I asked.
He shook his head, the amused-male pose stil in ful force.
“Holy cow,” I said.
The game had sucked five hours out of me and it felt like five minutes.
I turned to Brody. “I don’t think Diablo is good for me.”
“Some can take it, some can’t. It’s the wil of Diablo,” Brody replied.
I nodded at the profound sageness of his reply.
Hank tugged me toward the door and I could swear he was laughing.
“Later,” Brody cal ed as we walked out.
Chapter Sixteen
Prayers
Hank went to get Shamus and I went to the safe room to pack my stuff.
I was standing at the reclining chair, shoving the last bits into the bag when Shamus ran to my side.
“Hey boy,” I said, bending at the waist to give him an ear scratch that turned into a hand wash from Shamus’s overexcited tongue. Apparently, the last five hours away from me had been doggie-traumatic for my furry chocolate boy.
“Ooo,” I cooed. “Did Auntie Roxie leave you with the scary, badass dudes in the boring room? Poor fel a.” I felt Hank’s heat at my back before his arm slid around my middle and I straightened. His chin came to my neck and shifted my hair, then his lips were there. Shamus sat on my feet.
“Have a good day?” Hank said against my neck.
I shivered, then turned in his arm, his head came up and I looked up at him. Shamus shifted to sit with his body leaning against both of us.
“Yeah,” I told Hank, surprising myself because I meant it.
“Good,” he said, and I could tel he meant it too.
I looked at him. He looked his usual handsome but tired.
He hadn’t had a ful night’s sleep, interrupted or not. He hadn’t had his food delivered, even by a snotty bitch. He hadn’t spent his afternoon being a make-believe, kickass assassin and kil ing make-believe orcs. He’d spent his day being a real life cop and going to ugly crime scenes.
“How was your day?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Shit,” he replied.