Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(79)

S omething was wrong with Tam. She wasn’t any pricklier than usual, but she had a strange vibe. Stranger than usual, that was. He would almost describe it as vulnerable. Though he’d probably die a slow, horrible death if he ever said as much to her. A guy stepped careful around that chick if he wanted to keep his balls attached.

Still. She was too damn skinny. Shadowy-eyed. All muscle and rib and hollows under her cheekbones. And that bluish network of veins showing at her temples didn’t look right. Someone should sound her out, see if she was OK. Maybe he’d get Margot or Erin to do it. Call him gutless, but he knew when he was out of his depth.

Liv made no sound behind him as she padded barefoot up the long staircase and followed him down the maze of corridors and clusters of dim rooms that led to the north tower. “Wow,” she murmured, looking around herself. “This place is incredible. She lives here alone?”

He snorted. “Can you imagine anybody living with Tam?”

“Uh, no, actually. She’s intense.”

“Tell me about it. And this is the way she treats the people she really likes, too. Just imagine how it would be if she hated your guts.”

She snorted. “Thanks, but I’d rather not.”

They started up the spiral staircase of the tower. Liv stopped at every landing, gasping at the view. The tower had to be architecturally camo’ed too. Cool. Even the princess, who had grown up in multiple luxury homes, appreciated Tam’s super-duper lair.

He himself, who’d had only a nodding acquaintance with indoor plumbing for his entire childhood, had been staggered by it.

Not that he was bad off, money-wise. He was doing just fine. His big condo had all the comforts of life. It was all a matter of degree.

The north tower was a tall octagonal room as big as an apartment in itself. Moonlight streamed in the horizontal diamond shaped windows. A spiral staircase led up to an airy sleeping loft above.

He flipped on a wall sconce lamp that gently lit the downstairs, showing blond wood paneling, the nubbly beige rug, plush off-white couches and chairs grouped around a huge entertainment console, the fully stocked bar. One side of the octagon was a kitchen and a dining area.

Liv spun, open-mouthed. “This is her guest room?”

“One of many.” Sean set the box down. “The east tower is Tam’s workroom, but there’s the west and the south towers, and lots of other rooms.” He pulled the lid off the box, and started reading off the labels on each package of food as he pulled it out. “Chicken sesame. Grilled salmon. Fresh pork roast. Filet mignon. Braised greens with vinegar and bacon. Greek salad, potato salad, taboulleh, sourdough rolls, asparagus quiche, roasted artichokes, stuffed three-cheese mushrooms, chocolate ganache, and fresh nectarines, honeydew and pineapple. And ah, Tam.” He pulled out a six-pack of his favorite beer. “I can almost find it in my heart to forgive her for the tetanus shot.”

“She’s just like you described.” Liv peeled open the chicken and sniffed with delight. “Everything she says puts you at a disadvantage.”

“True, but she kicks serious ass in a gunfight.” Sean pulled out a chair for her, popped open two beers and pulled the plates out of the box. “Come on, babe. Let’s pig out like there’s no tomorrow.”

They went at it, making wordless, appreciative noises from time to time in place of dinner conversation.

Halfway through, Liv paused for a breather. “Other than the crackers and sardines, this is the first food I’ve eaten in two days. And I’m not the type who voluntarily goes without eating. On the contrary.”

“Good,” he said. “Nobody should.”

“After looking at Tam, I want to eat bread and water for ten days.”

He blinked at her, perplexed. “You’ve got to be kidding. Why?”

She lifted her shoulders, eyes sliding away. Her face reddened with embarrassment. “She has such an amazing figure,” she mumbled.

He stared, incredulous. Liv was his gold standard for female perfection. Every rosy, luscious feminine detail, right down to the shape of her little pink toenails. He lifted his beer, a silent toast to voluptuous womanly bodies. “Bon appetit,” he said simply. “You are stunning exactly the way you are. I would not want you any thinner. I am dead serious. I do not like stringiness, or bones that stick out. I like you.”

“Hmph. It’s very nice of you to say so,” she murmured.

She didn’t believe him. He felt suddenly desperate to make her understand. “I’m serious,” he protested. “I like your body. It’s ripe and juicy. I love those big, soft tits that fill up my hands. I love the way they move. I love your soft, sweet kissable white thighs. I love those cute dimples in your knees. All of it. Tam’s got nothing on you, babe.”

“Oh, don’t even,” she snapped.

“Really. She’s a fine-looking woman, sure, but she’s too goddamn skinny. It worries me. She should see a doctor, drink some Ovaltine, stop smoking, I don’t know. And she’s not my type, sexually. It’s like she’s made out of stainless steel. Steel doesn’t turn me on. Neither does fighting a duel to the death every goddamn second. It’s fun for a while, sure, but it’s exhausting. I’m a lover, not a fighter, you know? I like cuddling, tickling, hugging. Who could cuddle with Tam?”