Waking to the smell of coffee and a bare-chested Vincent had to be one of the highlights of my morning. Despite the consistent drama playing out, I could always count on his warm and sexy welcome.

"That shirt doesn't hide anything," he said, eyeballing my VS sleep tee as he handed over my coffee. I thanked him with a kiss on his chin.

"It isn't meant to. My mom is due to call at ten, so put your lewd thoughts back into your pants and give me twenty minutes."

I left Vincent adjusting his hard-on and carried my coffee onto the balcony. The temp was on the chilly side, so I ducked back in and grabbed a blanket from the linen closet, wrapping my shoulders as the phone rang in my hand.

"Hi, mom. How are you?" I blurted my usual greeting as I walked outside and shut the door.

"Hi, Reese. I suppose I can't complain."

Oh, crap. The monotone greeting. I should have prepared. This was November. The month Theo died.

"Are we still on for Thanksgiving this week? Vincent and I are good to go... and Sylvie, if you've got the space."

It took Mom a moment to respond, which meant her mind could have taken her to any number of places.

"Sylvie is always welcome. She still hasn't heard from her mother?"

"No."

"Oh, that's too bad." I heard a sniffle, and she blew her nose away from the phone. "It isn't always wine and roses, but family is family. Thanksgiving is all I think about these days. I have come to welcome the distraction."

She paused and I struggled for what to fill the silence with, but all I could do was swallow.

"I'll harvest the squash Tuesday, barring any weather mishaps," she finally went on. "And, I've already ordered the honey glazed ham. You remember the year I waited too long and we couldn't get one? Your dad was so upset. After that, I swore I would order at least forty-five days out."

"He never stays mad at you long," I offered, having heard the same story every year. "What else is going on with you and Dad? Did you try the new restaurant that opened around the block?"

"Yes. It's owned by the nicest same-sex couple. They're active with one of the theater groups in Manhattan. In fact, they've invited us to a special Thanksgiving performance and cocktail reception afterward. An old friend of your father's will be there, so we really couldn't refuse. Then, of course, Friday is shopping. Do you mind if we move the Kentwell Thanksgiving to Saturday?"

Oh, hell. What was this? She's willing to move the date of Thanksgiving? "Um, okay. Were you and dad going to shop here in Manhattan?"

"Yes, and we want you to join us, like always. And, of course, Vincent. We'll arrive Wednesday afternoon, so let's have dinner together. Our treat."

"Okay. I should probably mention that Vincent and I are going out of town tomorrow, but we'll be back Tuesday evening."

"Oh, really? Where are you going?"

"Verona, Italy, and maybe Venice. Vincent owns a rental there."

"How nice. Was this a last minute decision? I know Vincent has the money to do what he wants."

"Yes, it was last minute. Sylvie and Vincent's brother are coming along."

"Like a couple's retreat? That's sweet. So, Sylvie and Vincent's brother are an item?" 

I smiled at my mother's dated lingo. She thought she was still hip. "Yes, they are an item."

"Well, I'm all for romantic getaways to Italy. And darling, if you can't make it here on Saturday, I'll understand. I know this is last minute. We can do a rain check with ham sandwiches."

Whoa.

First, she's willing to change the date of Thanksgiving, now she's suggesting ham sandwiches? Maybe the therapy was finally kicking in. "You know I have never been a fan of holidays that promote gluttony," I said. "And, I'm good with Thanksgiving ham sandwiches as long as I can share them with you and Dad."

"Me too, honey. See you Wednesday. Give yourself a hug from us."

"Hugs back, Mom."

Vincent still looked delicious in his half-dressed state when I returned to the living room, and I expected him to drag me off to the bedroom to have his wicked way with me, but he must have picked up on my funky mood face.

"What is it, Reese? Are your parents okay?"

"I think so, but Mom was acting kind of strange. She wants to change the date of Thanksgiving. Not 'the' Thanksgiving, just the Kentwell Thanksgiving. She and Dad are coming to town on Wednesday for an event."

"And this is strange behavior for your mom? I thought she organized events."

"She does. It's just that... Theo died in November right around Thanksgiving. I expected to be consoling her while she falls to pieces."

Vincent opened his arms and I walked into them, pressing my cheek against his skin. "And what about her daughter? Is she going to fall to pieces and need someone to console her?"

"Maybe. Did you have something in mind."

Vincent's pocket buzzed with a text, and he ignored it, setting his phone on the table. "I think I can come up with something."

Leaving his message unread, Vincent walked me down the hall and into his office, the room I dared not tread. I understood his attachment to it. The space had an intimate feel, bathed in the warm glow of recessed lighting and furnished with plush, highly-polished amenities.

"I have never had sex in this room," he said almost absently as he looked around. "How about we christen my Herman Miller office chair?"

"Or I could christen you in your office chair." I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled my panties off, and I hung there while he unzipped himself.

A minute later, Vincent's workspace held the scents of lemon furniture polish and gollum sex as I straddled his lap and played hide the salami. The sound of dog nails on marble alerted us to visitors, and the voices of Colin and Sylvie echoed down the hall. Vincent grabbed my ass and jumped out of the chair, holding me against his hips as he hurried around the desk and closed the office door. I never saw a guy move so quickly.

"Vincent, you home?" Colin called just before the doorknob rattled. "Hey, you in there? I texted. Why is the door locked?"

"Because it's my damn office. The Japanese won't be ready for us until one. Go away and come back later." Vincent growled his command as he lowered back into the chair, forcing a groan from my throat.

I heard Sylvie giggle. "Hey, Reese. You in there?"

Vincent and I stared at each other, and I watched his cheeks blossom with a full-on blush. That was new. "I'm helping Vincent with something, but if you want to stick around, you and Rizzo can escort me to my gig."

"Sounds cool. Should I put on noise cancelling headphones while I wait?" I heard more giggling, along with the sound of retreating footsteps, and I turned to smile at Vincent.

"I expect that wasn't the first time you've been busted by your brother."

"No."

"How should we proceed from here, chief, now that we have an audience?"

"That's up to you. Have you been consoled enough?"

I wiggled in his lap and he bit down on his lip. "I'm not sure," I said. "Are you done consoling me?"

"Not by a long shot."

~ ~ ~

If it had been anyone else catching me in the middle of chair sex, I would have kept my head down and my mouth shut on our trek to Trinity Church, but since it was Sylvie, I indulged her with a few deets of my office liaison with Vincent. Of course, Rizzo probably got an earful with his superior gollum hearing, so I kept it short and sweet.

I made my rounds of the restoration site while Rizzo and Sylvie hung back. On my way by the vestry, I stopped outside on the chance Charles would be there. Like any self-respecting nine to fiver, he wasn't, and I doubled back by way of the missing font. As I stared at the stain through the scaffolding, I couldn't help thinking about Cecile and her ankh amulet. An amulet that held supernatural powers and probably came from some temple or church. A church like this one.

"Reese, you want to stop for sushi?"

I startled at Sylvie's voice, but covered it by tucking my camera into the bag. "Sure. We'll pick up something for Vincent and Colin too."

With take-out sushi in hand, Sylvie, Rizzo and I hoofed it back to Twenty Exchange Place. On our way, I noticed Josh sitting on a bench across the street. I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed it wasn't Christoph. I hadn't seen him since the rescue. Josh noticed me noticing him, and he pointed to another man on the opposite corner. Sure enough, chinless wonder had his back against a building, trying to look inconspicuous behind a newspaper.

Rizzo made his observation. "Vincent says they've got twenty-four-hour surveillance on you, so we will too."

"Hey, isn't that the dude from the club last night?" Sylvie said, pointing at him through her cellphone in a not-so-subtle gesture.

"That's the dude," I said. "I wonder if this is what it feels like to be famous. Your privacy flies out the window."

Rizzo's powerful nose remained in the air as he escorted us safely to Vincent's door, and we arrived in the middle of a lively debate about sushi in the Japanese market, with Colin challenging Vincent to find better fish than in Croatia. As soon as we started digging into our mid-grade sushi meal, a knock came at the door.

"Come in, Griffin," Vincent called out.

"How did you know?" she grumbled as she pacified the whimpering dogs with pats.

"I knew you were angry at me about my trip to Verona, so I knew you'd come over here to chew me out."

"You said you would take me next time you visited Europe." Griffin led the dogs into the kitchen for treats as she complained. "I have never seen the apartment in Venice."

Vincent put his chopsticks down, offering Griffin his undivided attention. "This is a special case, and we won't have time to do anything on the list you're building. I'm sorry, Griffin, but I'll make it up to you. Choose a place while I'm away, and we'll make the reservations when I get back."

Griffin stood in the kitchen, letting the dogs salivate as she held the treats just out of their reach. "The haunted London tour for my birthday? Which is...?"

Griffin pinned Vincent with a serious pre-teen stare, and he held up valiantly against her onslaught. "January twelfth. I'll check with your mom and make the arrangements."

A broad smile took over Griffin's face, and she finally relinquished the treats to the dogs, whose whines were starting to drown out their conversation.

"Do you want to join me and Reese in the rec room later," Vincent asked Griffin as he picked up his chopsticks again. "We'll be doing some flight training."

Griffin's eyebrows vanished beneath her curly bangs. "Really? You want me to help Reese with flight training? Like after meditation? That'll give me time to work out a routine for Reese's skill level. This is going to be fun."

Of course, this news had my chest tightening with dread, but I had to smile at Griffin's reaction. I could actually picture fireworks going off inside her head as she bounced on her toes out of the room and yanked open the front door, offering Amelia a quick "Hi Mom!" as the two passed in the foyer.

"Hi Griffin." Amelia waved to her daughter then she walked around the counter and set a small bottle of perfume in front of me. "This is for you, Reese. To wear to the hearing. I made it myself from essential oils. I know how you worry about your scent. There's geranium and lavender, with a hint of patchouli. I hope you like it, but even if you don't, you should probably still wear it while you're there."

"Thank you, Amelia. One less thing to stress about, eh?"

"No worries, Reese. We've got you covered."

Amelia didn't give me time to get choked-up about her thoughtful gift, excusing herself as quickly as she'd come, and Sylvie watched her leave, pointing at the door with her chopsticks.

"I like her. I'll bet she can kick ass."

"She can," Vincent said. "In every species, females rival males in ferocity. They can also bring a male to his knees without laying a hand on him."

Sylvie swung her chopsticks around to face Vincent. "For a guy with a neck fetish, that's a very healthy attitude."