Larkin interrupted, “I’m in a relationship.”
Connor scratched the back of his head somewhat self-consciously.He then pointed at his office door, indicating Doyle without saying as much.
“That’s correct.”
“So it’s serious?”
Larkin answered, “I’ve never used dating apps, I’m not on social media, and what goes on in my bedroom is private.”
Connor held his hands up in surrender.“You’re a consummate professional, Grim.I know that.But the news has been salivating over you these last few months, and I don’t want some fucking mouth-breather desperate for a scoop to stoop to an invasive level, you know?”
“The concern is appreciated but unwarranted.”He started for the door but stopped and turned.“You’re very up-to-date with armchair sleuthing techniques.”
“My teenage daughter,” Connor answered.“That kid signs off from family chats with ‘yeed my last haw,’ but give the girl a Wi-Fi connection and fifteen minutes, and she can tell you a guy’s shoe size, blood type, and credit score.”Shaking his head, Connor muttered, “Keeps me awake at night.”
“Perhaps one day her generation will put us all out of work.”
“It’s enough to make a jaded man start praying.”
Larkin’s mouth twitched in a smile before he exited.He left the door open because Connor was a bit of a micromanager and preferred having eyes and ears on the bullpen whenever possible.He approached Doyle, who was resting his backside against the ever-absent Baker’s desk, his legs stretched across the aisle toward Larkin’s desk, with Baker’s desk phone to one ear.Larkin touched his partner’s shoulder before stepping over his legs.
“Hey.”Doyle turned the mouthpiece away and asked, “What’d Connor not want to say in front of me?”
Larkin took a seat in his chair.Telling the full story, he decided, would only cultivate a situation where Doyle would feel as if he had something to prove, which was atypical to his character, yes, but Doyle had an ego as much as the next man, and it’d undoubtably be bruised if he knew both Larkin and Connor felt iffy on his continued involvement in the Worth cases.Larkin said, “He was voicing concern over the media catching wind of this case.”
Doyle’s brows rose a little, a prompting, like he knew there was more to it.
“He asked if I was on any dating apps.”
Doyle grinned at that.“Are you?”
Larkin ignored the tease and added, “His daughter seems to have introduced him to that particular hellscape, and he doesn’t want some journalist finding out my preferred sexual positions.”
“Which is?”
“Which is what.”
“Your preferred position.”
“Who’re you on the phone with.”
“I’m on hold with the lab,” Doyle answered.He leaned forward.“I like missionary.It’s notvanilla, it’s romantic.Plus, I don’t have to be a contortionist.”
Larkin spun in his chair to collect the manila folder of photographs they’d gone over that morning.
“So?”Doyle pressed.
“Missionary is fine,” Larkin said, not looking up as he flipped to a few closeup snapshots of the fridge.
“You don’t like it.”
“I didn’t say that.I prefer having a partner on top, is all.”
“You mean, like cowgirl?”
Larkin turned in the chair.“Shouldn’t you be talking to someone.”
“I’m still on hold,” Doyle protested with a laugh.
