Page 139 of Oddly Fine

“If you weren’t a man of the law, I might be worried you’re stalking me,” Hayes said with a warm smile. He glanced around for Beckett, but he had yet to return from the men’s room.

“Scout’s honour I’m not,” he vowed, holding up three fingers in the official salute. “I came here for a friend’s birthday, but they’re moving on to their next bar, and I’m—” he nodded towards the door. “Well—I’m heading home,” he said, a little embarrassed, since cutting the evening short was certainly not the norm for young, single guys on a Friday night.

“Have a drink with us,” Beckett invited from behind Hayes.

Hayes nearly jumped out of his skin again.

Beckett looked relaxed and sly as he slid into his seat. He kicked an empty chair towards Officer Lavigne, silently urging him to sit down.

“No, no, I don’t want to intrude!” he exclaimed apologetically and began backing away.

“Nothing here to intrude on,” Beckett said, waving away his concerns. “Take a seat,” he insisted.

The tone of authority and alpha maleness in Beckett’s thinly-veiled command made Hayes’ gut clench. The young officer turned to Hayes, as if seeking reassurance. Acting on a devilish impulse, he winked his approval and smiled.

What the fuck had gotten into him?—oh, yes, of course—Beckett.

The officer smiled back at Hayes and then sat down.

The waitress noticed the officer joining them and came over to take their orders. Beckett ordered bourbon, Hayes chose a gin and tonic, and Lavigne asked for an IPA.

“So, should we call you Officer Lavigne, or—” Hayes said.

“Deputy Hunky?” Beckett suggested with a chuckle.

The officer’s ears immediately turned pink just as they had during the no parking zone incident.

“Jeremy,” he said, the pronunciation caught somewhere between French and English.

“Went to school with a Jeremy—pretty sure he stole my superhero lunchbox,” Beckett grumbled disconsolately.

Hayes pointedly ignored him and smiled warmly at Jeremy.

“Ignore Beckett—his mother dropped him on his head as an infant,” Hayes informed Jeremy, although there was a note of affectionate exasperation in his voice that softened the insult.

“Kind of figured that might be the problem considering how he came crawling out of that coffin—” Jeremy said with a laugh. He looked between them and smiled, relaxing in his chair. “Have you guys been working together a long time?” he asked.

Hayes wasn’t blind to what Jeremy was really asking.

“Four years of hell!” Beckett declared dramatically, dropping his head back and closing his eyes.

“And you got together before that or—”

“About three years in,” Hayes replied, shaking his head.

“So you knew what he was like long before you hooked up,” Jeremy said, smirking.

Beckett laughed boisterously and smacked the table in tacit approval.

“Suppose it means I must have gotten dropped by my own mother a time or two—but yes, you’re correct,” Hayes acknowledged with a sigh.

“I don’t know—” Jeremy said, with a shrug. “I kind of see how it works.”

“And how’s that, pup?” Beckett asked, clearly trying to wind him up. Typical Beckett, no booze required.

Jeremy appeared delighted to accept Beckett’s challenge, smiling as he leaned back in his seat.

“Good relationships balance like a seesaw. If one person is disorganised, then the other has to be just organised enough to offset that, but not too much. Otherwise their balance is thrown off. Same goes for crazy.”