31. Zane

Chapter thirty-one

Zane

T he bitterness of Jasmine's rejection doesn't taste so bad after her stunning performance. Jasmine's breaths are even and calm, as she lies against my chest. This isn't the actions of someone who is horrified at the idea of marrying me, but someone who took my advice not to rush into the arrangement. I watched her momentarily, the way the morning light played upon her hair, turning it into strands of spun gold. But the day - and Alex's voice calls. It's time for bacon sandwiches.

"Time to play with the monkeys," I joke.

"Wasn't it a kipper and a walrus?" Jasmine recalls what she can from the phone call about Alex's dream.

"I was too busy making my heart-felt feelings clear to a beautiful young woman."

She giggles but shows no signs of getting up.

I encourage her by pushing back the sheets and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. We move in comfortable silence, slipping into our clothes. I chose a simple T-shirt that hugs the contours of my torso, not that I am showing off at all, and a pair of jeans that had seen better days. I'll change my work clothes after eating and seeing my family off. Jasmine opts for a lightweight blouse that complements her complexion and a pair of denim cutoffs that show off a tantalising view of her calves.

Together, we made our way downstairs, the sound of our footsteps on the wooden staircase. The scent of sizzling bacon wafting from the kitchen hastens our steps. As we enter the well-used space, we are greeted by Marcus, Lenny, and Alex gathered around the table.

"Breakfast smells amazing," I say, the corners of my mouth lifting in anticipation of the meal to come. "Morning. I hope you all slept well."

"Glad we went home so there was no knocking on the walls that kept us awake," Lenny teases. He would never hear anything even if he did stay over. Alex's room is between his and mine. It was planned at the time to keep the boys away from the master room, and by the time Alex came along, I didn't have anyone to knock the walls with.

"That would have been the kipper," Alex shrugs, innocently playing with two robots on his placemat.

"Shut up, Len," Marcus shoves his brother with a grin. "I think it's nice that Dad isn't alone."

"Are you going to ask Jasmine to marry you, Grampy?" Alex grins. The heat that flushes across my face is enough to reheat this bacon.

"Dad? Tell me you didn't propose?" Marcus accuses with a joking laugh.

"No, of course not. I just told her that I would, when the time was right." I recover the situation well, or at least to the best of my abilities.

"Well, I for one wouldn't be upset if you did. When you do, that is." Marcus smiles warmly at Jasmine as he hands Lenny a plate of bacon sandwiches to dish out. "You have to trust your heart."

Lenny just nods, his gaze briefly meeting mine before returning to setting the table. There was something unspoken in that look that will need discussing later. I try to indicate that to him in a look, but he misreads me, assuming I want his silent opinion now.

Lenny catches my eye across the room, and as if we are part of a silent film, he cocks his head ever so slightly toward Jasmine before breaking into a sly wink. I return a nod, subtle and complicit in whatever unspoken narrative unfolds. My arm finds its way around Jasmine's waist, a gentle but assured touch guiding her to the chair beside mine. She eases into it with a soft smile, oblivious to the quiet exchange between Lenny and me.

I nod along, my thoughts elsewhere, hovering around the truth I ache to share with Jasmine. But now is not the time; when will it be, though? The question nags at me like a splinter.

"Hey," Alex pipes up suddenly, dropping his toys aside as his food arrives. "What is a kipper?"

"Smoked herring," I answer automatically, watching his reaction.

"Smoked... fish?" He wrinkles his nose, clearly bemused by such a concept. "Then that is not what Flippy-floppy was fighting last night."

"It's an acquired taste," Jasmine chimes in, her sandwich paused mid-air. "Some say it's quite the morning delicacy."

"Acquired taste or not," Marcus interjects with a chuckle, "it's better than the cold pizza you seem to prefer, Alex."

"He wasn't fighting cold pizza, Dad!" Alex grins as he turns his attention back to his bacon sandwich. "What is the thing with the arms that pulls sailors from the boats? I was a pirate and Flippy-floppy was my parrot."

"An octopus? Or a squid?" Marcus suggests.

Alex shrugs and returns to his food. I put it down to the nonsensical kids watching things on their tablets, but Jasmine frowns like there is more to this than there is. Alex likes to play heroes and monsters because it's the only way he can comprehend what we all do for a living. We are not good men, but when we dumb it down for his curious mind, we become bad men fighting evil people. Or as he dreams it, pirates fighting monsters.

"Alright, folks," Lenny announces, pushing back his chair with a scrape against the wooden floor that signals his departure. "Duty calls, and the case won't solve itself." He stands, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt with a precision that seems at odds with his laid-back demeanour. His eyes flicker to Jasmine for a fraction longer than necessary.

"Is work giving you sleepless nights?" I ask.

"Something like that," Lenny replies, the weight of the case, pressing down the corners of his mouth. He offers no further explanation as he turns on his heels, leaving us to finish our breakfast with a sense of urgency.

The door has barely closed behind Lenny when Jasmine's shoulders tense, a rosy hue blooming across her cheeks. She leans back in her chair, as if the space he left could somehow distance her from his scrutiny.

"Why does he look at me like that?" she murmurs, more to herself than to me.

"Like what?" I feign ignorance, but my mind churns with the implications of Lenny's gaze.

"Like he's trying to solve my case." Her voice is quiet, and her mind concludes that Lenny is investigating Andrew Green's disappearance.

"Jas," I start, ready to leap into a reassuring lie, but she cuts me off with an upraised palm.

"Don't," she says firmly. "I know you have jobs to do."

"Exactly. But it isn't what you think." It's getting harder to have these conversations with Alex in the room. "He is helping Mrs Marley find her missing husband."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Marcus chuckles, and then his face drops as he looks at Jasmine. "I mean, you know when they find him, good luck with the marriage."

My accusing look has Marcus digging himself a deeper hole. "Missing men are usually found in the bed of another woman."

"Why?" Alex pipes up.

"Jeez, buddy. We gotta hurry." Marcus makes a show of looking at his watch before ushering the child from his seat.

Jasmine smirks at me as the pair slip out of the house. "I'm sorry if I made them uncomfortable."

"Marcus isn't sure what you know about this life. How do you suggest a man is unfaithful without your kid understanding."

"While knowing the guy is dead, am I right?"

"My job is overseeing the running of family-owned businesses. I don't deal with that side of things."

I'm a murderous arsehole, but for once, I want my job to mean more in those devoted eyes.