The late night plus the dream plus worry over Omniss meant Emma slept poorly and, despite her determination to be impressive, she woke fuzzy and late. She had to skip breakfast, barely made the bus, and carded herself in after three failed swipes. Groggy, missing her morning coffee, she stumbled inside—into Dr. Light’s broad chest.
Adrenaline flash-flooded her system at being so close to his broad, muscular torso. She fell back with a sucked-in breath. His distinct sexy scent sent her heart rate skyrocketing.
She adjusted her gaze a little higher. His star-shot blue-green eyes were warm behind his glasses as if he saw her reaction and sympathized. “I didn’t sleep all that well either. I’m making a coffee run to Caffeine Addiction.” He named the coffee shop in their strip mall. “What do you drink?”
It reminded her of her fantasy, inviting him out for coffee, then dinner, then a little hot man-on-shifter action. She blushed. “I’m fine,” she blurted. “I mean, there’s coffee in the break room. That’s fine.”
“If you slept like I did”—and there was that word slept again, almost demanding a “with me” to be added—“coffee Vulgaris isn’t going to do it. C’mon, Emma, we’re going to be here all night again. What do you want?”
She clenched her eyes briefly against him and her, together all night, and what she wanted. “You have a plan? To trap the thief, I mean?”
“I do. But I’m not sharing until you tell me your caffeine preference. Cappuccino? Mocha? Latte?”
“Just plain coffee,” she blurted. “But…um, if they have any of those chocolate chunk cookies?”
He rewarded her with a huge smile. “You got it.”
“I’ll pay you back…”
He stopped her simply by glaring.
Her belly shimmied. So powerful, so alpha. It reminded her that, though Gabriel Light was kind, generous, protective, and mostly laid-back, he could be very dangerous.
“…or maybe not.”
“Definitely not.” Spinning on his heel, he left.
* * *
He returned with a carrier wafting a heavenly rich-bitter scent and two bags stamped with the Caffeine Addiction logo. The mouth-watering odor of chives and sharp cream cheese wafted from one bag, and the other was redolent of butter, sugar, and chocolate. Emma took an appreciative sniff, her wolf sighing in pleasure.
He set the carrier down on a break room table. “Sit. Enjoy your breakfast.”
“I should be working—”
“You will. If you’re worried about impressing your boss, only think— you’ll be twice as efficient if you digest properly.” He gave her an impish grin.
She could think of better ways to “impress” her boss. But she was suddenly hungry and realized if she sat to eat, maybe he would too.
Maybe he’d sit down and eat with her.
“I got another Wrapphone prototype rush-delivered. It’s our bait for tonight.”
“That’s brilliant!” She sat.
And to her rising excitement, he began to sit down too. So, maybe not lovers like the dream, but on their way to friends?
Before she could do more than hope, Omniss’s thin voice cut through.
“Mr. Light.” The insurance adjuster appeared in the break room doorway. “We have work to do. You can eat later.”
Her spirits dropped.
Her boss privately rolled his eyes at her but dutifully straightened and faced the man. “I’ll eat when I need to. But I can work while I do.” He snatched his cup from the tray and one of the paper bags. Hesitated. Leaning slightly toward Emma, he murmured, “I meant it. Take what time you need. You’ll make up any hours on that special project.”
Grateful, Emma watched him walk away, all broad shoulders and tight glutes, and she shuddered privately with lust.
The cookie impressed her—the biggest chocolate chunks she’d ever seen, he must’ve asked specifically for it—that reminded her she was going to try to impress him too, by being the best damned Techie Titan trainee there was.
Cramming the rest of her cookie in her mouth, she rose, picked up her coffee, and slurped it down on her way out of the break room.
Another employee was cleaning up the phone accoutrements aisle so she took herself to Base and pulled a work order. Laptop with virus symptoms. Easy-peasy. She’d disinfect it with Dr. Light’s detox program, slap on an Internet security package and have it done in a flash.
Settling down in the back, she booted the computer off a CD with Dr. Light’s specialized program. It went to work right away, scrubbing off verified double nasties, flagging other possibles.
Fingertips twinkling on the keyboard, quick wrist on the mouse, she began checking the possibles. Click, okay. Click, not okay and whisk to trash. She was a cleaning monster. She happily clicked, doing an amazing job cleaning.
And yay, here comes Dr. Light—can’t wait until he sees how well I’m doing…what’s this?
She clicked up a picture, tilting her head to try to make sense of what was going on.
What are those people doing? She tilted her head one way then the other, and still couldn’t tell. It looked like a naked game of Twister, but instead of right leg or left arm…well, yeah. Defied the imagination.
“What’s that, Emma?” Brant asked brightly.
Emma startled. Her wolf’s hearing was exceptional but she’d been so distracted by the picture she hadn’t heard the teen come up.
He leaned closer. “What’s that man doing?”
“Shh.” Her face heated. “Not so loud.”
“Wow, that lady’s flexible.” If anything, the “not so loud” got his volume to open-road levels. “I didn’t think you could put your ankles behind your ears like that.” He shook his head admiringly.
Which was of course when Dr. Light glided around the privacy barrier. “Brant, there you are. Carol wants to see you.”
“Okay, Dr. Light. But maybe you can tell me. What’s that?” He pointed at Emma’s screen.
“What’s what?” Dr. Light leaned over to look.
“Nothing!” Emma slapped the laptop shut. Any cleaning was negated. She’d have to start over, and her visions of amazing metrics died.
“Are you okay?” Dr. Light reached for her shoulder, as if to touch it reassuringly, but at the last minute he hesitated and his fingers only hovered.
“I’m fine.”
“Well…all right. We’ll get out of your hair. Brant, come on.”
* * *
Though Gabriel was going to trap the thief in person, he wanted the security camera footage as backup. However the culprit had screwed up the camera last time—most likely an EMP cannon, but he couldn’t rule out a witch using magic to fritz the camera—he needed to armor against it.
He spent most of the day working on a tech/charm meld to protect against either. An hour before the store closed, he went to each of the store’s security cameras, touched the special talisman he’d created, and waved a surreptitious hand in the camera’s direction.
Then he found Carol in the break room.
His second assistant manager was going over employee schedules. He paused. She usually locked up. Though it wasn’t unheard of for him to do it, he knew she was on edge because she felt the police considered her a prime suspect. So he had to seem absolutely natural telling her she could go home.
Time to get into the right frame of mind. Tell Carol casually that he’d lock up. She’d ask why. To spend time with Emma, alone, to be together with her, potentially all night. Talking with her, smelling her, touching her, kissing her, fucking her into the floor…
Gritting his teeth, he willed down his erection. Absolutely natural? Try just not walking with a planky hitch.
“Dr. Light?” She looked up, startled. “Do you need something?”
“You can go home now, Carol. I’ll lock up.” He couldn’t quite keep his excitement from his voice, but he didn’t think it showed too badly.
The way her expression twisted with worry, he was wrong. “Is there something I should know, Dr. Light?”
“No, nothing. Not really.” He scrambled to ease her mind. “I’ve got an idea regarding the theft I’m testing.”
Her shoulders loosened and she smiled. “You and your tests. You should have been a scientist.”
Well, he was, but not in the way she meant it. Ever since his parents died in a magically induced plane crash, his life’s goal was to make magic and tech work together. It meant he was an expert in both magic and science.
He only smiled back. “Thanks.”
Emma had left the store at her normal time, but Gabriel knew she was waiting in the nearby sandwich shop until closing. Once Carol was safely out the front door, he strode to the back employee entrance to let her in without her card. That way, if anything should go wrong, only he would be officially on the hook.
His stomach bubbled as he moved from stride to trot to almost a dash. He hadn’t been this excited since he’d gotten his first real wand.
And to think, when the Wrapphone prototype had been stolen, he’d been angry. He’d expected to be in the store when it arrived so he could secure the thing with magic, or put a psychic eye on it so he could trace it. But it had arrived early, while he was troubleshooting out of state.
But now, some part of him was actually glad it had been stolen. It gave him a chance to spend time with Emma.
Ms. Singer.
Oh, hell. He could call her Emma in his mind, right?
At the back entrance, he glanced out the reinforced window beside the shipping docks. There she was on the pad, hands in her pockets, bouncing on her toes. Bubbling with excitement too? It notched his up.
Or cold? June still got chilly at night. Immediately he chastised himself and threw open the door. “Come in.” He barely stopped himself from taking her arm and drawing her inside. He wanted her warm and safe…and he had an inexplicable need to touch her.
But that would lead to other, potentially headsmen-involving things. He simply stood aside and let her pass before him.
Her scent drifted, siren-like, into his nose. Sweet and sassy and above all, female. His cock rose with interest. He clenched his eyes and jaw briefly and willed the thing down.
“Is the new Wrapphone still in place?” she said in a low voice as she peeled off her jacket.
“Yes.” He’d made a replica of the phone—with magic, but he didn’t tell her or anyone that. Nobody could know it was fake.
“Good thing the developer had that backup.”
“And was willing to rush deliver it, yes.” Gabriel had put the news on their website and posters in the windows announcing they’d gotten a second Wrapphone, then locked the thing onto the stand this morning. As bait, he hoped it would prove impossible to ignore.
In a low voice she said, “Do you think the thief is here?”
“Yes. On my final sweep, one of the men’s room stalls was almost shut. But we need to let him come out in his own time.”
“We need to catch him in the act, I get it.”
And she did. As he set the building alarm, he reflected on the joy of being with someone who really listened to what he said.
They hunkered down in the shadows just outside the phone display cutout area.
While they waited, she said quietly, “So you game. Role-playing?”
“Mostly,” he murmured in return. They should have stayed silent but it was too much fun being with her. “I have some match-3 and card games on my phone for waiting in lines.”
“Me, too.” She began chatting about her favorites, naming many of his.
He relaxed so much, he said without thinking, “Hey Emma. Schröding’s cat walks into a bar. And doesn’t.”
Mentally, he face-palmed. That was such a geek joke. Smooth first-date material, Light. Nobody ever got it, and most people didn’t even know it was a joke…
She laughed. “Tell me another.”
His spirits did a one-eighty. She’d probably only pretended to find it funny, but so what? He’d take it. “Okay. Have you heard of the band named 1023 Megabytes? They haven’t had any gigs yet. Ba-dum-bum.” He mimed a cymbal rimshot.
She stared at him, and he crumpled inside. That one was so weird she couldn’t even pretend…and then her face collapsed into a huge grin, eyes scrunching, and she snorted a long laugh. “No gigs. Like gigabyte, 1024 meg. Ha.”
He stared at her, disbelieving. He’d once told his sister that his true love would be the woman who loved his sense of humor. She’d responded tartly that he meant the woman who loved him in spite of his sense of humor.
Emma actually enjoyed his jokes. Not the cold shoulder or blank non-understanding or forced laugh other women gave.
And then she said, “Okay, I’ve got one. A Roman walks into a bar and holds up two fingers.” She demonstrated, holding her pointer and middle in a V.” He says, Five beers, please.’”
“Roman numeral five, ha.” Slightly dizzy, he quipped back, “How do you tell the difference between a chemist and a plumber?”
“Ask them to pronounce unionized,” she laughed. “Un-ionized!”
He grinned at her, feeling like he was glowing from the inside. She not only got and enjoyed his humor, she returned his puns.
Keeper.
He shook the thought away with a casual, “Oh, you have a little something on your shirt.” He plucked the end of a single hair from her shoulder—just as a scuffing from the back made Emma grab his wrist. She exchanged a wide-eyed glance with him. He nodded, sliding the hair into his pocket.
Their perp was here.