Chapter 79

Sinead hated that she was nervous. Again.

And this time it wasn’t the kind of nervousness that had butterflies fluttering between her gut and her cunt because Marc was scary and sexy and she was turned on. This time she was nervous because as she waited for him, Jules was next to her in the coffee shop and Sinead dreaded that Jules was going to see something. Catch on to Sinead’s secrets. The things she wasn’t telling her best friend.

If anyone would notice that Sinead acted differently around Marc, it would be Jules.

So she couldn’t. And yet, she sort of felt like she had to.

Marc was in control, and he’d made it clear he didn’t like the idea of a brat being in ... whatever they were calling the thing between them. But what was considered bratty when it wasn’t a BDSM thing? What if she wasn’t being bratty, she was just being a cop and a detective, but he felt like something she said or did was bratty?

“Sinead, what the fuck?” Jules asked quietly, setting down her coffee and giving Sinead’s foot a hard enough nudge that the bouncing leg slipped off of where she’d crossed it at her knee.

“Sorry,” Sinead said, readjusting in her seat. “Probably didn’t need this cup of coffee.”

“I told you to get tea,” Jules rolled her eyes.

“Tea might as well be water filtered through a handful of dirt.”

“Because coffee beans are so much more refined.”

“You drink coffee too,” Sinead countered.

“Next time get tea so you aren’t bouncing off the fucking walls. God, you’re gonna need to pee as soon as we get back in the car, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” Sinead sighed. The door to the coffee shop opened and she glanced over, but it wasn’t him.

“Is he usually this late?” Jules asked.

“No,” Sinead said. “Usually he’s pretty prompt, even when he says he’s running late. I think it’s a European thing or something.”

“I thought the French were known for being sort of lax on promptness?” Julia snorted.

“OK, maybe it’s just a Marc thing,” Sinead shrugged. “Or, like, an ‘I make a shitload of money because I’m smart as fuck and super structured in how I do things’ thing.”

“Sounds like he has a stick up his ass to me,” Jules said. “Though I guess he wasn’t like that when we had dinner at your place.” Then she smirked and snickered. “What if you’re all hot for him, and it turns out he’s into getting pegged or something? All that sexual tension and suaveness and he wants you to grab a dildo and-”

“Fuck off,” Sinead sighed, very aware that Marc was the exact fucking opposite of that, then sat up as she saw Marc through the front window. “He’s here.”

“Calm your tits,” Jules murmured with another smirk, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Twat,” Sinead murmured back, then tried not to smile as Marc finished brushing the snow from his coat and strode through the seating area of the coffee shop and approached their table.

“Detectives,” he said with that fucking smile of his as he nodded to them and swept off his coat, folding it neatly once and hanging it over the free chair at their table. “A moment, if you please. Can I get you anything while I order?”

“We’re good,” Jules said.

Marc looked to Sinead.

“We’re good,” she confirmed.

Marc nodded and went to the counter to make an order, and Sinead could tell immediately that he was being his smooth-talking self as the older woman behind the counter gave him a warm look and started bantering with him.

“OK, he’s hot,” Jules sighed. “You’re still on thin fuckin’ ice.”

“Fuck off,” Sinead sighed, shaking her head. She wasn’t sure what was worse, Jules knowing just enough to torture her like this with her little barbs, or Jules not knowing before and flirting with him in her apartment.

Marc came back carrying his coffee with a ceramic cup and saucer - a fucking cup and saucer when everyone else in the place had basic cardboard takeaway cups. And he had a croissant on a plate, buttered neatly.

As soon as she saw the croissant, Sinead regretted not ordering one. Or a doughnut.

“I apologise for the delay, Detectives,” Marc said as he set his plate and saucer down and pulled out his chair, adjusting how his coat hung on it before taking his seat. “It was not my intent to keep either of you lovely ladies waiting on my account.”

“It’s fine, Marc,” Jules said, leaning back in her chair and eyeing him over a bit. Sinead wasn’t sure if she was doing it because she was doing another round of judging him, or just to bug Sinead. Either one was equally likely.

“Thank you for coming,” Sinead said. “I know we could have met at your office, but this seemed ... more appropriate.”

Marc lifted an eyebrow as he took a sip of his coffee, then set it down on the saucer neatly. “Is this meant to be a clandestine meeting?”

“ ... Sort of,” Sinead said.

“More yes than no,” Jules said, leaning forward in her seat. Sinead took a second glance at her friend and partner - had Jules unbuttoned an extra button on purpose, or had it just slipped? It wouldn’t have been the first time for either. “Look, Marc, I get that you and Sinead had your arrangement with you helping her sort through financial documents and such, but I didn’t realise you were ... Fuck it. I didn’t realise you were ‘going undercover’ with her. That’s super dangerous.”

“Ah, Julia,” Marc said with one of those fucking smiles of his. “Please, providing Sinead with an unobtrusive escort into locations that would otherwise be more difficult for her to access is my pleasure.”

Jules gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, sure.”

Marc sighed, cocking his head slightly. “Detective, I would be happy to provide you with a similar excursion. I’m sure Sinead would vouch for my proficiency as an undercover partner.”