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“That’s okay. I didn’t know her well, and honestly, she went to a much better place than the one she left behind, so…”
Bailey again caught himself in a place where he wanted to ask more but knew it wasn’t the right time. This was their first date—well, officially—and it was hardly the place to talk about sad pasts and deaths in the family.
“So Cajun—that’s New Orleans, right?”
Henri nodded as he munched down on a couple more fries.
“Is that where you grew up?”
“Yep. New Orleans. Where the summers are so hot you can fry an egg on the pavement.”
“Yeah?”
“For sure. I swear, that place is as hot and humid as I imagine hell must be. But damn, the food and drinking is good.”
“That’s what I’ve heard. Never been there myself, though.”
“You should visit one day,” Henri suggested. “Have you always lived in Chicago?”
“Born and raised. We can have some pretty bad heat waves up here too. But man, our winters? They’re brutal.”
“I found that out this past year. It was my first Chicago winter.”
Bailey winced. “Oh, and it was bad.”
“Yeah, I’m still trying to work out why I’m about to voluntarily stay through this next one.”
Although Henri was joking, the idea that he might up and leave sent an uneasy feeling through Bailey. “Well, hopefully I’ll be able to give you a few reasons.”
Henri flashed a crooked smile. “You already have.”
Bailey swore his heart skipped a couple of beats, and he couldn’t help his foolish grin. “You know what I just realized?”
When Henri looked at him, Bailey chuckled and shook his head.
“I have absolutely no idea what you do for a living. We’ve talked how many times now, and not once have I asked you. Ugh, what must you think of me? I—”
“Was too busy kissing me the last few times we met. Sooo, I would say I think you’re pretty fucking amazing.”
Bailey chuckled and sat back in the booth. “It’s just so unlike me to act like this. God, Xander would be proud.”
“Xander?”
“Oh, yeah. Best friend/ex—kind of like you and Priest, I guess. He encouraged me to follow my— Well, he just told me to stop second-guessing everything and enjoy myself.”
Something hot flashed in Henri’s eyes. He angled his body and placed his arm along the back of the booth. “And are you enjoying yourself, Bailey?”
Bailey scraped his teeth along his lower lip and nodded. “I think you know that I am.”
“I sure as hell hope you are, because I’d really like to see you again.”
Butterflies took off in Bailey’s stomach.
Henri ran his finger across Bailey’s cheek. “Tomorrow morning…” he whispered.
“Yes?”
“Let me come see you. I’ll bring breakfast and coffee after your shift.”
Bailey swallowed, the idea of knowing he would see Henri straight after work the best kind of incentive to get through a long night. “Okay. But you don’t need coffee as an excuse. I have a pretty kickass machine.”
“Noted,” Henri said, and leaned forward.
The second their lips touched, Bailey softly moaned, this kiss the exact kind of contact he’d been craving since Henri had walked in the bar. Bailey ran his hands down Henri’s shirt, clenching the material as the kiss intensified, and just as it was about to get out of hand, Henri raised his head and said, “Tomorrow morning, we’ll finish this. Where it’s just you, me, and that nice, big bed of yours.”
A shiver raced up Bailey’s spine as his cock stiffened. God, he wished they could go home now and finish what they’d started. But, knowing if they continued this now, things would surely get out of hand, he nodded. “Tomorrow morning. I’ll be home by nine.”
Henri pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be there.”
It wasn’t until Bailey was in his car heading off to work an hour or so later that he realized he still had no idea what Henri did for a living.
Chapter Twenty-Four
CONFESSION
I never thought I’d be hot for a cop.
I should point out that it greatly depends on which cop.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Henri was across town, driving down the streets of the South Side, looking for some hole-in-the-wall bar where he was meeting Detective Dick. He turned onto an empty side street, stared out the car window, and did a quick sweep of the area before landing on a place that looked abandoned: 2145 Kedzie Avenue.
Henri pulled up by the curb and reached for his phone to check the address he’d been given—sure enough, 2145 Kedzie was what he’d typed in. Climbing out of the car, Henri looked around the darkened street and shook his head. This was the last place he wanted to leave the Aston Martin, and as he headed toward what he figured was the front entrance, he took a quick look over his shoulder to make sure no one was lurking.
Fuck this shit. He was gonna go inside and get Detective Dick to come out here to have their little convo. He’d be damned if his car got stripped tonight.
