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He tried scraping it off, but it wouldn’t come. He gave up and grabbed the spoon.
Chase took his first bite. And looked at the lid. Maybe the cheese was what made it good, because without it, it tasted bad. Really, really bad.
He spooned himself another bite. Logically, he knew that just because he loved Della didn’t mean he had to like everything she liked.
He still didn’t stop eating. Because … because … Hell, he didn’t know why. Other than that Della liked it.
Nope, he never stopped. He finished the whole damn thing. Every disgusting spoonful.
* * *
Steve and Della walked out of the coffee shop. The sky was dark. The moon still hung big in the sky, only a sliver of its fullness missing. But it was probably the safest night to be out, because the weres were all hung over from their monthly shift.
The wind was cold, but not deadly cold. It reminded her that she hadn’t seen a ghost in a while.
When they cut around to the back of the hospital, the darkness became denser. Only their footsteps echoed in the night.
“Right there,” Steve said and pointed up. “Tenth floor. Second window to the right.” He looked around as if to make sure no one was watching. “I’ll meet you up there?”
Della nodded and flew up.
There was a ledge, about a foot wide, but it gave her just enough space to park her butt. She had just perched herself when she realized just how much pigeon poop she’d just sat on.
Oh, and it smelled.
Nasty.
Just as Steve had said, the window was left partially opened.
Della raised it another ten inches. The smell of old paper, reminding her of how an old library smelled, filled her nose. She turned her legs around and slipped inside. Her feet had barely hit the floor when Steve landed on the windowsill, looking regal as a peregrine falcon. Her heart did a little tug. She did almost love him.
But it still wasn’t love-love.
He swooped inside.
With his wings fluttering back and forth, the magic bubbles appeared around him as he transformed back into human form.
“I found a flashlight when I was here,” he whispered and turned to look around. “I thought I left it right—”
“There,” Della said, spotting in on the floor below the window.
He grabbed it and turned it on. He cupped his hand over it as if it were too bright. His nervousness made her antsy. She tilted her head to listen for anyone nearby. She didn’t hear a sound.
“Is someone else supposed to be in here?” she asked.
“There’s a laundry room next door. For all I know, people are there at all hours. And the place has like three security guards. So we need to be careful.”
She tilted her head to the side. “But I don’t hear anyone. So we can relax.”
He frowned. “We’re breaking and entering. We can’t relax.”
“Let’s find the file.” And when she turned around she realized just what a job that would be. Row upon row of metal racks filled the room. And each rack held boxes stacked on top of boxes, reaching almost to the ceiling, which was at least thirty feet high.
Her gaze shifted from one end of the room to the other.
“Are they marked?” Della asked.
“Some have dates on them,” Steve whispered.
