The front door slammed. Jay blinked, eyes sore, gaze flicking to the top right corner of his computer screen to the clock display.
Hell, he’d sat for five hours straight, since lunchtime. Crumbs on a plate were all that remained of a hasty lunch. A hunk of cheese, crackers, an apple, and a few grapes were all he’d consumed with a mug of tea. No wonder he was thirsty. Bad habit falling into work; not good for his eyes, his backside, back, whole body. At least the time flew. So much for good intentions—he’d not got ingredients out of the freezer for dinner. What were they going to eat?
He rolled his neck, trying to get the kinks out of his muscles, and winced at an audible crack. Dean would give him hell for not taking a break. Maybe he wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t wonder about dinner, wouldn’t
