He nods. “He’s agreed to give me five percent off my purchase.”
Laughter bursts out of me. “Won’t Deanna be jealous?”
He shrugs. “Different store.”
“You whore,” I jab as he slurps back the rest of his bowl and gestures for me to share mine. When he opens his mouth expectantly, I make sure to cover his lips with the remnants of the sticky milk from my spoon. He scowls as I set down my bowl, still eyeing what’s left in longing until I grip his shoulders and push him back on the couch before thoroughly cleaning his lips. In seconds, he’s forgotten my abandoned snow cream and opts to lick me instead. Lips swollen, wetness pooling, I pull away and gaze down at him. “I love domesticated Tobias.”
“Do you?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the salty, bossy, suit-dressed Frenchman too, but I love this version of you just as much.” I press my lips to his jaw and feel him settle beneath me, his arms wrapping around me. “Maybe more.”
Hours later, we stare into the fire as we lay comatose on the couch, half buzzed from wine after a long game of chess while the forecast hums in the background during the evening news. Tobias sits on one end while I lay opposite of him as he massages my wool-covered feet. According to the weather report, our snow will be gone tomorrow, which makes me a little melancholy. It’s the next segment of the news that snags my sleepy Frenchman’s attention, halting my foot rub altogether. He turns up the volume as brief, but grotesque footage is played and recapped by the anchor, snapping us both out of our stupor. Those responsible for it proudly proclaim themselves the culprits, a new terrorist organization, and it might as well be the fucking bat signal by the way Tobias is reacting—his posture going rigid and his jaw ticking. The hairs on my neck start to rise as Tobias bristles next to me, his reaction much the same. He’s a closet empath to the core.
On instinct, he reaches for his cell, something I would have found odd years ago. His goal has always been corporate warfare, but since we parted months ago, his stake, his place, his say, and any future move he makes will be next level. A purposefully calculated advantage I’m not sure he’s been able to utilize yet.
The reality of that sinks in a bit further as he palms his cell and thinks better of it, glancing over at me before setting it back down. “They’re already on it. Tyler and Preston,” he clarifies.
I nod. “I’m sure they are. But make the call if you want to, Tobias. I’m not stopping you. And I didn’t ask you to quit.”
He clicks off the TV, his eyes back on the fire as he absently resumes my foot rub. As much as I’ve tried to tell him that I’m okay with him staying in the loop, he’s refused, making sure I know our relationship is his priority. And I know with him, it’s all or nothing. He’s not the type of man to sit on the sidelines. I’ve resigned myself that it’s his decision. I glance out the window gazing at our perfectly constructed but faceless snowman and grin. We got distracted when we got to that part. Our new snow day has definitely outdone any other I care to remember, and that makes me hopeful.
“I don’t understand that type of man,” he speaks up next to me, drawing my attention back to him. “The type of man who can kill innocents for any fucking reason to prove what evil they’re capable of.” He sinks back in the couch. “It’s nothing new, and yet the more that comes out, the more desperate they become to outdo those that preceded them.”
“It’s not your job to understand them. You do enough by trying to stop them.”
He shakes his head. “I have to try to understand them in order to stop them, so I can catch them.”
I reach over and run my fingers through his tangled hair. “Be glad you don’t understand them, Tobias.”
“I’ve done horrible things,” he admits. “But always to protect those I love, protect our cause, but I don’t really lose sleep over it.”