Stacking the Deck - Charlie Cochet Page 0,35
fridge, and put his glass beneath the ice maker. The fridge rumbled, and several ice cubes clinked into the glass. Jack grinned at him. “You now have ice.”
“Oh my God.” Fitz hurried over and took the glass from him, then pressed it to his cheek. “My precious.” He caught a glimpse of his ceiling and frowned in confusion.
“Yeah, um, I replaced the two spotlights that were out.”
Fitz blinked at him. “Wait a second. You rescue me, spend the night in my home looking after me, then proceed to fix stuff around my house.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, his face flushed. “Yeah, sorry. When I see stuff that’s broken, I can’t help but try to fix it. It drives Joker crazy.”
“He doesn’t like it when you fix things for him?” Fitz handed Jack his glass.
“It’s a control thing for him.” Jack shrugged. “He grumbles about it, but he’s okay with it because it’s me and he knows what I’m like.”
“A hero?”
Jack let out a cute snort. “Hardly.”
“You stopped that guy from potentially… well, you know.”
Jack’s sparkling silver eyes clouded over. “He’s lucky Frank was there.” He shook his head and dropped his gaze to his sneakers. “I might have been a little bothered by hearing you were with another guy, and I know that’s completely irrational because we’re not, um, dating or anything, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. When I saw you, something felt off, and then you said my name.”
“I said your name?” Fitz started to make himself some espresso. He desperately needed his morning cappuccino, even if it technically wasn’t morning anymore. Once his fancy coffee machine was working on making the espresso, he grabbed milk from the fridge and poured some into the frother cup. “Cappuccino?”
“Yes, thank you. And yeah, you said my name. I had to check you were okay, and you weren’t.”
“So you punched that guy,” Fitz said, turning to face Jack and leaning against the counter as he waited for their coffee.
“He deserved it.”
“You punch everyone who deserves it?”
Jack shook his head, his eyes lowered and a shy smile on his face. “No, I don’t go around punching everyone who deserves it. I don’t think my hand could handle that much of a workout.”
Fitz blinked at him before barking out a laugh. He had no idea Jack had such a wicked sense of humor. “Well, thank you. For last night, and for fixing my fridge and lights.”
Jack cringed. “And a few other things.”
“You didn’t have to. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”
Jack waved a hand. “I enjoy fixing things. It’s fine.”
“Did you have breakfast?” Fitz figured someone must have dropped stuff off for Jack, since he’d changed from the suit he’d been wearing last night to jeans and a black T-shirt. There was also the laptop on the counter.
“Joker dropped food and some of my stuff off for me early this morning.”
“Well, it’s lunchtime. I insist on making you something.” The coffee machine beeped, and Fitz got to work fixing them cappuccinos.
“Fitz…”
Fitz gave him a pointed look over his shoulder, then motioned to a counter chair. “Sit. I’m making you lunch.”
“Okay.”
“You could have made yourself something. I wouldn’t have minded.” He prepared Jack’s coffee how he said he liked it, one sugar, and then his own with two sugars before he started removing ingredients from the fridge.
“Oh, um, that’s the one thing I can’t fix. Bad things happen when I try to use kitchen appliances. I can fix them if they break, but I can’t use them to cook food.”
“Even toast?”
“Yep. Trust me. You’d think after handling all kinds of surveillance equipment and weaponry in the military I could handle toast, but nope.”
Fitz eyed him skeptically. “Show me.”
“I don’t want to break your toaster.”
“Just press the button.”
It was almost sweet, Jack’s hesitation before slowly pressing down the lever. The slices of bread disappeared into the toaster, and Jack glanced from the toaster to Fitz and back. What exactly was he expecting it to do? Fitz opened his mouth to ask, but black smoke erupted from inside the toaster.
“Oh my God!” Fitz yanked the cord out of the socket, waving away the smoke. He glanced over at Jack and tried his hardest not to break into laughter.
“I told you.”
The poor guy looked like a puppy who’d just been scolded.
“I’m sorry. I’ll get you a new toaster.”
Fitz pressed his lips together, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “I’m sorry. I don’t