We stopped at the corner beside a still-closed Starbucks. I moved to stand in front of Calvin and switched hands so that I could hold his left with my own. Even after a year and a half, I still had these fleeting, surreal moments ofholy shit, I’m married to my soul mate. And since life hadn’t been able to beat the sappiness out of me, despite a few decent attempts, seeing our matching wedding bands always made me feel good.
“Are you stressed out?” I asked.
“Usually am, to some extent.” But Calvin rubbed his thumb back and forth across my ring a few times, raised my hand to kiss it, then said, “I’m okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Promise.”
“And you really will tell me if you need something researched, right?” I asked. “Dates, personal writings, professional connections, design illustrations—anything related to Hare. You know I’ll deliver.”
“I know you will. Thank you.” Calvin let go of my hand, put his on the back of my head, and drew me into a kiss that probably skirted public indecency.
I blew out a shaky breath when he let up. “Let’s have a quickie in the car.”
Calvin finally smiled his big, beautiful smile, and chuckled lightly. “I owe you.”
“Time and place of my choosing?”
“One or the other.”
I frowned. “Place.”
“Done.”
“Place also picks position,” I said.
Calvin looked skeptical. “What’s your plan—on the shelf in the broom closet?”
“I’m not that adventurous. No, I’m thinking the couch.”
Calvin gave a consenting nod. “The couch is good.”
I stood on my toes to whisper in his ear, because—I mean, come on—I still sounded like a fucking doofus and my attempts at seduction were not something I wanted even the malodorous air to overhear. “Specifically, you in a compromising position over the armrest.”
Calvin leaned back to meet my eyes. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home.”
Despite the heat in my face, I laughed and nodded. “Sounds good.” I kissed his cheek and said, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Calvin turned and headed back toward the precinct.
Standing on the corner, I watched and waited for a taxi among the few cars coming and going. I could go home, try to nap like Calvin suggested, but would likely end up listlessly wandering the apartment until I needed to head out. Alternatively, I could go straight to the Emporium. There was always work to be done, and that Radio-Rem kit, which supposedly charged water with radium for therapeutic purposes—a quack cure if there ever was one—wasn’t going to sell itself. But even for a workaholic like me, I kind of drew the line at clocking in before sunrise. And it was definitely too early to drop in on dear old Dad, even if I did come bearing donuts from Little Earth café as a peace offering.
I tugged my phone free from my back pocket and considered my contacts list. Max would still be zonked out at his place in Brooklyn. My antiquing buddy Aubrey Grant, who’d finally returned to the city last winter after an impromptu stayover in the Florida Keys and then a will-he-won’t-he back-and-forth about getting his own place or moving in with his then-long distance boyfriend, would throw a literal hissy fit if I interrupted his sleep schedule—learned that the hard way. So I pulled up Neil’s name, placed the call, and put the cell to my ear.
He answered on the second ring. “What do you want?”
“Are you awake?”
“Do I need to dignify a stupid question with an answer?”
“There’s no such thing as stupid questions.”
“There is, actually. Like you asking if I’m awake after having answered the phone.”
“Want to get breakfast?” I asked.
“Sebastian, it’s—” Neil was likely checking his watch. “—not even five thirty in the morning. I’ve been on call since last night. I need to go home and take a shower.”
