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Acidic energy ate its way through his bones, burning through his patience and tolerance for being inside the sa his wheels But it was too late in the day to bust in on Anders Blooer friend Ivy Rhodes without looking desperate and setting off alar to the plan often meant the difference between success and failure

His pacing took hiht his eye and offered the possibility of toravy would cover up her teasing scent Without the lavender distraction, he could focus on beefing up the suspect dossiers Iredients

Tony’s mom would have a heart attack if she ever opened one of Sylvie’s cupboards Not that they were bare, but they weren’t filled to overfloith cans of to past a y bars into the darkest recesses to pull out two cans of diced torowled

“Do you have any garlic?” he called

Sylvie glanced up froreen eyes on hiet the rest of the week’s posts uploaded before she had to give up her laptop to his co away andthe new black was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard He’d always figured black was the only black, so he’d stayed quiet

“Garlic?” Her breathy voice twisted so inside him

“Yeah, you know, it’s a white bulb thing You use it for cooking”

She rolled her eyes “I’ my sides hurt” She tilted her head back and rolled her shoulders before arching her back in a long stretch that lengthened specific parts of Tony’s anatomy

Peeling his gaze away, he forced his gaze back to the can of torip But his ears, attuned to her every ht the scrape of her chair on the tile floor, the soft patter of her feet, and the creak of the refrigerator opening Theover in those second-skin-like yoga pants as she searched the fridge was al it in real life

A soft giggle brought him out of his fantasy That sliver of difference between his iination and the even-better reality hit him smack in the jaw

She stood with one hip cocked and a smirk on her face “Careful there, Iron Man, or you’ll dent the can” She tossed the garlic bulb to him like a pop fly

He stifled a groan and caught the garlic before it hit him between the eyes “Thanks”

She hopped up onto the island and swung her legs over the edge “You’re cooking?” She swept up her thick hair into one hand and then looped it around until it formed a complicated knot, which she locked into place with a pencil

His fingers itched to pluck it out and watch the honey strands fall past her shoulders The lip of the toravy”

“Turkey or meatloaf?”