Page 115 of Spurred On

He woke up to a poking.

It was a sharp jab kind of poking, the kind of poking that inspired a man to open his eyes and glare at said poker.

It was Claire. Big surprise.

She looked furious. Nothing new.

“What?” he muttered, annoyed to have his dream interrupted, annoyed to wake up with a boner and really annoyed he was alone. Sometime in the night, Sidney had left, damn it all.

“What the hell are you doing?” Claire hissed.

“I was sleeping.”

“Here?”

He lifted an unapologetic shoulder. “Sorry. I was up late helping Sidney. I guess we fell asleep.”

“Here?” She glared around the room and her frown darkened even more. “Why were you helping Sidney?”

“Because you’re a slave driver?”

Claire blanched. “Did she say that?”

He stilled. The hairs on his neck prickled. “No, of course not. But it was past one by the time we were done, and that was with me helping her. We were so tired, we crashed here.”

She stared at him a moment, her jaw working, her cheeks red, and then she said, in a low snarl, “What were you doing with her?”

He frowned. “Sleeping.”

“And?”

“Sleep-ing.”

She narrowed her eyes. Almost as though she didn’t believe him. “Nothing more?”

It was none of her business. And it hardly mattered. Nothing had happened. Sidney had been worked into a freaking coma for Christ’s sake. And, for that matter, so had he. He pulled the blanket over his head. “Go away.”

She ripped it off. “Jesus, Cody. Get up, will you? We need to talk.” She fixed him with a ferocious glower to emphasize her point. “It’s serious.”

“It better be,” he muttered, slipping from that warm nest of blankets. He hated to get up, but Claire would pester him until she woke up the whole house, he was sure of it. He followed her into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He yawned and glanced at the clock. Shit. It was only eight. He wasn’t on duty for hours. “What’s so important that you had to wake me up at the butt crack of dawn?”

“It’s hardly the butt crack of dawn.” Claire sniffed. “Most people have finished half their day by now.”

“I work nights. Honestly, Claire. Just because something’s crawled up your arse and laid an egg—”

She surprised him, whirling on him with such savagery. “What the hell are you doing with Sidney?”

Hadn’t they been through this? He raked his hair. “Claire—”

“You know you two aren’t serious. You know this is just a fling.”

“I don’t know that.” It wasn’t.

“I do.”

“What I do or don’t do—with anyone—is none of your business.”

“It is, if I see you heading off a cliff.”