“Feed meeee.” I dragged the words out on a whine as I rolled over in bed, tugging the sheet to cover my naked breasts.

“I just did.” He tugged the sheet back down to stare at my chest.

“Your dick is not enough to fill me up.”

He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow calling bullshit.

“That’s not what I meant.” I laughed and shoved his shoulder. “I need real food. Carbs. Meat. Fat.”

“I don’t think I have anything to eat here. I haven’t ordered my groceries yet. Let me look through my menus.” He began rolling out of bed, but I latched onto his arm.

“Ooo, what about that sushi place on the corner?”

“No, I got sick the last time I ate there. What about Mexican?”

“No, I had Mexican two nights ago and then leftovers last night.”

It had been two weeks since we’d begun our adventure of sleeping together. We hadn’t gone anywhere together other than to each other’s apartments where we stayed to fuck and eat. My schedule revolved around how much of Shane’s body I could get, which usually meant I wasn’t home to make dinner. And unless Shane happened to cook for me, I had takeout. I was so sick of takeout.

“Okay . . .” He rubbed his hand over his hair. “I think I may have some crackers and cheese here.”

“Really? Crackers and cheese? I will waste away here and not have enough energy to continue having sex. I need food.”

“What if we run into someone while we’re out?”

“Oh, my god.” I flopped back on the bed and threw my arms wide in frustration. “Shane, Cincinnati is big. There is a slim to none chance that we will run into someone who would tell Jack.” Rolling to my stomach, I held my hands together in prayer, giving my best puppy dog eyes. “I’m tired of ordering in. Let’s go somewhere we can sit down. I promise to not expect a marriage proposal afterward. Feed. Me.”

Laughing at my desperate plea, he still hesitated. “Okay.”

I threw my arms up. “Yessss. I will not die of hunger this Friday night.”

He just shook his head and rose from the bed, pulling on his boxer briefs. “You coming, Mini MacCabe?” he asked from the bathroom door.

I looked him up and down. His body always made my mouth water. “Not right now I’m not.” I teased him.

“Don’t worry. You will be later. But princess wants to be fed now. Get dressed and maybe I’ll have you for dessert after dinner.”

I squeezed my thighs in anticipation.

* * *

“Shane. This place has candied bacon. Candied bacon!” I practically bounced in my seat, I was so excited about the food.

“I told you you’d like this place.”

“I’m so excited. And hungry.”

“Obviously. I think you ordered enough to feed a small army.”

“It’s going to be fantastic. We can share the sides.”

“All eight of them.”

I grinned. People probably assumed I didn’t eat much because I was thin, but I was just blessed with a fast metabolism and a lot of height to distribute my weight. I didn’t eat horribly, but I didn’t hold back at new places or on sweet glorious food in cast iron skillets.

Once I’d settled down, I rested my hands on the table and looked at my dinner companion. The low lighting of the bar cast a shadow along his face, highlighting the bruise along his cheekbone.

“So, you working a big case?”

He’d been busy lately and we’d had to squeeze in late night romps. I’d wake up with his arms wrapped around me, and take in his calm face in sleep. He always managed to surprise me when I woke up to him still there. Or when he wrapped me in his arms after thoroughly wearing me out at his place, expecting me to stay. I was always sure he would leave in the middle of the night like he’d done in Jamaica, or ask me to leave once we’d finished.

Only one time was I brave enough to ask why he didn’t kick me out, and his brows had furrowed, as though he was just as confused as me, like he hadn’t even realized it was happening. I held my breath waiting for his answer, fully expecting him to shrug, tell me I had a good point, and show me to the door. Instead, he’d smiled and said he enjoyed the possibility of morning sex.

That moment of hesitation and fear of disrupting our current situation prevented me from asking again.

“You know I can’t talk about it.”

“Come on. Jack shares stories about some of his cases.”

“Yeah, when it has to do with a simple P.I. case and his employees somehow end up in a brothel.”

I chuckled, remembering that story at last Sunday’s brunch. “Can you at least confirm that the case caused the bruise on your cheek and the scrapes on your back?”

“Some people don’t like to be questioned willingly.”

My imagination took off thinking of big, bad, detective Shane chasing down a perp and his muscles strained as he took him to the ground and handcuffed him. Mmmmm . . .Handcuffs.

“I don’t find you being a brave cop at all sexy.”

“Trust me, it’s not that sexy. Most people—women—get irritated by the hours. A lot of the men I work with who have families struggle every day to make their families a priority. The department takes its toll on a family. It’s stressful and dangerous. They give me enough reason to never want to bring a family into that. I can focus on my job without anyone else to consider.”

I fought to swallow the lump that had settled in my throat at his speech, trying not to hear it as a warning. I knew Shane didn’t do serious, but over the past month, I’ve had to remind myself of that more and more when my heart skipped a beat at seeing him across a room.

“Jeez, Shane. Let me know how you really feel. I was just hoping to be arrested later and have you strip out of your uniform for me.” I tried to break the tension his words had created by being funny.

He smirked at me and leaned in. “Maybe we can play cops and robbers later.”

“Will you use your handcuffs?”

He growled under his breath just as our waitress settled the cornbread skillet on our table. I hummed as I took each bite, loving the sweet warm bread on my tongue. Shane watched with a smile, sometimes laughing at my excitement. Like when I clapped as our meal was set on the table. It all barely fit on the small square for two.

A quarter of a chicken for me, and a half for him, and of course the candied bacon, French fries, mac and cheese, coleslaw, mashed potatoes, succotash, and sweet potatoes with toasted marshmallows on top.

I started digging in as soon as the waitress walked away. I didn’t even ask if he minded me dipping my spoon into his cast iron side dishes, I just went for it. He took my cue and did the same. I dipped my French fry in the aioli and moaned with the first bite.

With my mouth full and another French fry in hand, I pointed at the aioli. “You have to try that. I usually love ketchup, like truly love ketchup, but that aioli is the jam.”

He laughed, but followed orders, nodding his head at my review. “I had a foster brother who loved ketchup. Used to drink it with a straw.”

“Ew. I love ketchup, but that is taking it too far.”

“He was definitely an odd one.”

“Jack’s right there with him. He used to mix his ketchup with mayo, and dredge his fries in it.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him do that before.”

I licked a scoop of sweet potatoes off my spoon and swallowed, broaching a new subject he didn’t talk about much. “You keep in touch with your foster brother?”

“No. He was only seven and I was out of there within the year.”

“Why?” I didn’t have a very good understanding of the foster system.

“I was given back to my mom after she proved she was clean.”

“That’s good.”

He laughed without humor, and dragged his spoon through the mashed potatoes, making a swirling patter. “Not really. I was with her less than a year before she got caught with drugs again and they pulled me. That was the last time I saw her.”

“She never got clean again?” I pushed to keep a blank face, because even though he wasn’t looking at me, I didn’t want him to look up and think he saw pity there. Shane was not a man to be pitied.

“No. She died of an overdose, and I was in the system from there on out.”

I didn’t apologize. He wouldn’t have wanted it. “Did you stay with any one family for long?”

“Probably the longest I stayed with one, was for two years.” Deep ridges formed between his eyebrows and his throat worked up and down before he shook his head and continued. “I’d already been with a couple of families before then. Moved around a lot. I wasn’t exactly an easy kid. Not horrible, but not easy.”

“I think that still applies to you,” I said, trying to keep it light.

When I chuckled, he looked up at me for the first time since he started talking about his childhood. He looked relieved and grateful that I didn’t baby him and laughed too.

“Seems to work for you,” he accused.

“I guess it does. I’ll get shirts made. Looking for a man that isn’t horrible, but not easy either.”

“You can add it to your collection of shirts.”

We laughed through dinner as I over-ate. Our waitress brought the check around and Shane paid.

“You didn’t have to do that. I think I ate more than you.”

“I think you did too, but it’s not a big deal.”

He stood in front of me as I put on my jacket, doing his regular cop thing checking out the bar.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

“What?” I looked up into his wide eyes staring beyond my shoulder and began looking around too. He grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the back of the restaurant. “Shane. What the hell?”

He ducked down a hallway and looked side to side at the doors. “Your brother and Lu were sitting about five booths away. They were heading in our direction. Thank god I spotted him before he saw me.”

He pushed open the first door that didn’t lead to the kitchen and looked side to side before yanking me into the women’s restroom.

“What the hell? What if someone comes in?”

“This never would’ve happened if you just would’ve been happy with Mexican food.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry for wanting to eat something a little bit more than food from a box. This is not my fault,” I said in a hard voice.

He ignored me. “You brother can’t see us together.”

“Why?” I got it, I did. Shane didn’t want to shout from the rooftops that we were fucking, especially to my brother since Jack would lose his shit. But it wouldn’t be the end of the world if we were caught having dinner together. It’s not like he would see Shane and I going at it.

“Your brother is my best friend—my family, and he would murder me if he knew I was hanging out with you.” He ran a hand through his hair as he paced.

“I’m an adult, Shane.” I enunciated each word, letting him know how irritated I was at his irrationality. The whole family thing was making more sense after what he’d just shared, but it didn’t give him a pass to drag me around and hide me like a dirty secret. “My brother-”

The sound of voices from the hallway grew louder as they neared the ladies room, halting the beginning of my tirade. My eyes widened in his direction. He pushed a stall door open and pulled me in. Thankfully they were full length doors so no one could see underneath.

The bathroom door creaked and Lu said, “Cleaning. Anyone in here?”

Shane held his finger to his lip. I was more worried they’d be able to hear my angry-mixed-with-panicked breathing.

“It’s all clear, come on,” Lu whispered.

Then there was the worst sound of my entire life. Wet, sucking faces noises. Moans. My brother’s fucking moans. Then came the rustling of clothes and sweet god almighty I would not sit there and listen to them fuck.

I gave Shane a warning look, and I wanted to slap the amused look right off of his face. He was trying to hide it, but doing a poor job. I shook my head, and he held his finger up to my lips, mouthing, Wait.

I shuddered at Lu’s giggles.

“Remember the last time I fucked you in a public bathroom. I love how excited you got. Your pussy so tight.”

My jaw dropped, on the brink of unhinging completely from my face. Shane had to hold a hand over his mouth to hold back his laughter. I didn’t know if he was enjoying the show outside or my sheer disgust.

“God, you’re so wet.”

I threw up in my mouth a little. Or at least made the motion of almost throwing up. And Shane broke, letting out the smallest laugh. But it was enough to alert our presence.

“Fuck,” Lu said. “Someone’s in here.” Clothes rustled back in place and Shane gestured at me to say something. Like I was going to step out with jazz hands, making sure they knew the horrible last five minutes were going to haunt me forever.

Instead, I settled on an odd, Irish-Spanish, high pitched accent. “So, sorry. Didn’t want to ruin your good time.”

Shane’s chest vibrated with laughter, and I pinched his nipple, making him jerk.

“Shit. Sorry,” Jack apologized. “Just a little horny. But getting out of here now. Sorry. So sorry.”

The door opened and closed announcing their exit, and Shane had to rest a hand on the wall to hold himself up, he was laughing so hard.

“Not. Fucking. Funny.” I said each word with a smack to his body, but he didn’t stop. The humor surrounding the horrid situation broke the tension from earlier and I began to smile and hold back my own laughter. “Keep it up and you won’t get dessert,” I warned with a straight face, reminding him of his promise from earlier.

He pulled himself together, barely. “We’ll see.”

And we did.

We snuck out the back and once we made it to the car, he pulled me into the backseat and ate me out—getting his dessert.