To be quite honest, I'm writing this down in a blog post just so I don't lose it somewhere. I mean, it's too short to make a whole Word doc out of it but too good not to save to work in somewhere.
It's a conversation between Lacey & Rainey. They are both world-class assassins and have been good good friends for many years, working together for the same slimeball, Roger Townsend (Lacey's "uncle" by marriage).
This definitely takes place prior to their ever having had sex, so at some point early in the book. I can't quite figure out whose POV it is though so forgive that vagueness here. I just "heard the scene in my head. I haven't written it....until now....okay, started writing and it became immediately "obvious" that it's in Rainey's POV. You shouldn't really need to know more about them than that they are both hired killers to follow this snippet. There's a running joke--among every other character in the book--that Rainey never ever not for one second is at a loss for words. He never stops talking. Never. Really. Unless you gag him or break his jaw--both of which I do to him in this book because I am a mean AuthorGoddess.
Lacey burst out laughing. "You can't be serious! You never stop talking."
Rainey stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles, clasping his hands behind his head and grinned. "Oh, yes, I do! In fact, I can think of three activities which are guaranteed to make me stop talking."
Lacey cocked out one hip, and crossed her arms in front of her. One of those perfectly arched eyebrows went up, driving him crazy like it always did.
"One," He said, "Killing."
She nearly doubled over with laughter at that one. "That's how this started, Rainey, and why I hate taking you on a stalk. You never stop talking. You get bored in the first five minutes and--"
"That's stalking. It's boring. I said killing. There's a difference."
"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "And two?"
He found it fascinating to realize that a single word could make her fall into such a state of stillness. Even when she was stalking a kill, she didn't hold that still so suddenly.
Her answer was barely a whisper, "I wouldn't know about that one, never having been there for it." She hugged at herself more tightly now.
He couldn't stop himself from offering, "We could give it a go and find out?"
"I think I'll have to take your word on it. Three?" She licked her lips nervously.
"Eating. I don't talk while I'm eating, do I? You've eaten many a meal with me."
She opened her mouth as though to protest then closed it and tossed her head from side to side as though weighting the validity of his claim. At last, she said, "All right. I'll give you that one. You're usually in too much of a hurry shoveling food in to stop and hold a dinner conversation. One out three's not...great."
"No, no, no. Three out of three. Killing, fucking and eating and I'd hate to have to kill you to prove a point but if you're not--"
She lunged and shoved him over in his chair. A playful assault, making it all the more unexpected. She let him latch onto her to catch his balanced and warned, "Don't tempt me! I shot you once. I can do it again."
He couldn't hold himself back anymore. He pulled her into his lap and laughed so hard his eyes began to tear. He felt his heart clench and knew he couldn't let her go back to Roger's again. Now that he had her here, he'd never let her go.