AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A small throat clearing from Clark cuts him off.
See.
Very uninterested in seeing me naked.
“Thank you,” Wes states to the current Head of the Household. “I appreciate your diligence.”
“Of course.”
“Would you like me to collect your things while you reach Mr. Reese?” Clark cautiously comes in our direction to place his object down as well. “It’s no trouble.”
“Why do you keep calling him Mr. Reese?” A scrutinizing stare is thrown at him. “Is Puppet Boy on some sort of power kick because the boss was away?”
He laughs, shakes his head, and reaches for the empty basket we stuffed our clothing into before finally eating dinner. “Just a bystander of going between discussing him in a professional sense and a personal one.”
“Who were you discussing him with?” Wes swiftly investigates.
“Estate accounting had questions regarding some non-routine orders that bore his signature. Nothing alarming.”
“What types of orders?”
“Candles. Potpourri. Organic laundry soap. Some exotic bodywash.” An indifferent shrug presents itself. “Like I said. Nothing alarming.”
“What if you’re right?!” Shooting upward swiftly occurs, fingers maintaining my hold on the blanket. “What if no one is purposely trying to hurt my mom?! What if it’s just been an accident? What if one of those environmental changes are the ones that have been unintentionally hurting her? Puppet Boy sees her often, doesn’t he?!”
“Typically, yes,” Wes calmly replies. “He often seeks her relationship advice.”
“And doesn’t he see Hamilton a lot too?”
“When necessary.”
“Okay, so, couldn’t he have touched or handled something they both had an allergic reaction to? Like if it’s his hippie soap or whatever and he touches them or brushes against them and they’re body hates it, couldn’t that have caused some of these responses?”
“Perhaps.” Contemplation cultivates itself in his expression during a slow nod. “Create a list of the products and get it over to Hamilton for crosschecking. This could be a viable route for answers.”
“Understood.” Clark offers another polite grin. “Anything else? Would you like for me and Lucky to escort Bryn back to the estate while you rush ahead to attend the meeting? We don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” I nonchalantly shrug and meet his stare. “I get it.”
His head tips objectively to one side.
“Really! I do. You have to work. Gotham can’t save itself. While I haven’t read a single comic, I know enough from the movies to know that much.”
Wes’s mouth lowers, clearly ready to deliver one answer, when it suddenly stops.
Shuts entirely.
Presses tightly together for a moment before firmly stating, “No.”
“Pardon?” Clark immediately questions in return.
“No.” The man in charge shifts his attention back to me. Lets it soften. “We’ll have breakfast together, here, and then I’ll drive you home.” An uncomfortable cringe is wedged between declarations. “To the estate.” He adjusts the cover at his hip. “I will drive back to where…the place…we’re sleeping…separately.” More awkwardness paints itself on his face. “It’s the right thing to do. Respectful.”
“Not making me the woman you had for breakfast catch an Uber.” Teasing him effortlessly continues. “You’re such a gentleman, Mr. Wilcox.”
Embarrassment bursts in his expression prompting Lucky to chortle. “There’s fresh chilled orange juice, pineapple juice, and avocado toast – sourdough bread of course.”
“Whyyyyy?” leaves me in another playful fashion. “Why do you hate me, Lucky? First, no booze with the juice and then you tell me we’re having veggies for breakfast.”
