“Cal?” I said again.
“Come here,” he said in a low tone.
I went inside, honestly feeling a little sick from the second rush of adrenaline. “What is it?” I joined his side to see what he was staring at.
A pamphlet.
An old one.
Maybe around thirty pages. The cover page listed it as twelve cents to purchase.
Barnum’s American Museum illustrated.
The quality was impeccable. Even without taking the time to look through it, I’d have to say the condition was near fine. I took a step toward the bed and snatched a folded note beside the book before Calvin could stop me.
Congratulations!
Dead fish can’t swim.
“There’s no address,” I said, turning the paper over to double check. “How do I know where to go?” I gave it to Calvin and reached for the pamphlet.
“No,” Calvin said firmly, grabbing my hand. “And we’re not staying here. Get some things, put them in a bag.”
“What? Where are we going?”
“A hotel.”
Not that a night together in a hotel didn’t have its perks. But if I wanted a king-sized bed, mints on the pillows, and sex in the sheets, I’d have preferred it to be tomorrow on Valentine’s Day, after our disgustingly romantic date that Calvin still didn’t know I wanted.
I’d have preferred to keep psycho killers and P.T. Barnum out of it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CALVIN MADEgood money.
It was fairly obvious based on the hotel suite in Midtown that he got us.
Not a room—asuite.
I whistled as he shut the door. “Was all this necessary?”
“Yes.”
I laughed and shook my head. “If you insist.” I dropped my haphazardly packed bag onto the couch and then kicked off my shoes. I changed into my regular glasses and went across the room to open the fridge. “Full bar. We can get drunk and make some bad decisions later.”
“I have to make some calls.” Calvin set aside his coat and loosened his tie. “Will you be all right?”
I nodded. “Of course.” I went over to him and slid my hands from his flanks down to his hips. “Hungry? I can order some room service.”
“Yeah, thank you. Anything is fine.” Calvin kissed me gently before he excused himself and went into the bedroom.
I sat at the table and flipped open a binder to look through the dinner options. Calvin’s deep, sexy voice was muffled by the wall, but in the end, I had to turn on the television to drown him out completely, lest I be tempted to eavesdrop. He ended up being on the phone for an entire episode of some house-renovating show. When room service arrived, I answered the door and tipped the guy before taking our meals to the table. I went to the bedroom door and knocked lightly, peeking inside in time to hear Calvin thank and address someone as Special Agent.
My boyfriend’s cooler than anyone else’s because he has the FBI in his contact list.
“Seb?” Calvin asked as he lowered the phone from his ear.
“Dinner’s here.”
