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Hardison had barely taken two steps through the doorway when he saw a blonde blur out of the corner of his eye. He immediately dropped his suitcase.
A split second later, Parker was in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist and her face buried in his neck.
"...Hi?" Hardison said.
"Hi," Parker said, voice muffled. "Missed you."
He kissed the side of her head. "Missed you, too, baby girl."
"Eliot also missed you," Parker informed him.
"No, I didn't!" Eliot yelled from the kitchen.
Hardison sniffed the air. "So that's not steak fajitas I smell?"
"We had steak that was going bad," Eliot said. "I had to cook it tonight or we'd have to toss it."
"He bought it yesterday," Parker said in a stage whisper.
"I heard that!"
"That was the point!" Parker shouted over her shoulder.
Hardison finally lowered her to the ground—partly because he wanted to greet her properly, and partly because she was heavy. Girl was solid muscle.
He leaned over to give her a kiss, and Parker wrapped her arms around his neck. Kissing her felt more like coming home than landing in Portland had.
"Hi," he said again when they broke apart to breathe.
Parker grinned. "Hi."
"Food's almost ready!" Eliot called.
Hardison made his way over to the kitchen. Eliot was at the counter, chopping up tomatoes and onions, and Hardison came up behind him to nuzzle the back of his neck.
"You make me lose a finger, you're driving me to the ER," Eliot grumbled.
Hardison rolled his eyes. Eliot could be getting a blow job and he still wouldn't cut himself chopping vegetables. Hardison knew that for a fact. "So you didn't miss me at all?"
"No," Eliot said. "Place was nice and quiet
for a change."
Parker took a seat at the bar and snorted.
"Even though you're making one of my favorite meals for a welcome home dinner?" Hardison asked.
"I told you, we had steak going bad."
"Uh-huh." Hardison kissed the side of his head. "Amazing you can grift at all, 'cause you're a terrible liar."
"Eliot's blushing," Parker said.
Eliot growled. "I am not. And go wash up, food's ready."
Hardison kissed his head again for good measure before going to the sink to wash his hands, and he noticed Eliot kept his face turned away. Probably so he couldn't see that he was blushing.
He joined Parker at bar and she passed him a drink, and Eliot dished up the fajitas and set the food out in front of them. It was soft and homey, and even though he'd only been away for three days, Hardison had missed them.
As if she read his mind, Parker reached over and squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you're back home."
Hardison returned the squeeze. "Me, too."