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Adam ignored the momentary pause. He knew Vic loved him, but for most of his life, he’d seen himself having a wife, not a husband. Not that they were married, which was a whole other thing.
“We’re getting off track. How often?”
Vic took a sip of his tea.
“I don’t know. I don’t always remember. Like I said, it gets away from me.”
“You should have told me.”
“You have a lot going on, baby.”
“Maybe we can talk to Sara, or maybe Mel, and get you a break. It’s not like there aren’t other Reapers.”
Adam hadn’t spoken to Death or her daughter in a while. He wasn’t on the best of terms with Sara, but Mel was fond of Vic. There might be some leverage there.
Vic scoffed. “Maybe we can start a union.”
“I’m so sorry. I should have checked in with you more about this.”
“You’re apologizing a lot tonight.”
“Because I am sorry. Job or no job, case or no case, you’re the most important thing in my life.”
“Me too.” Vic smiled and drained his tea. “Let’s go to bed.”
Vic’s first love language was touch, which had been a challenge since the hotel, since White, but Adam made an effort to push it all aside.
It wasn’t easy. The tightness in his skin, the hum of the memories—they begged for his attention as they brushed their teeth, but Adam made certain to stand close enough to touch.
Vic smiled, spat, and rinsed.
“I know what you’re up to, mister.”
Adam rinsed and met Vic’s gaze in the mirror.
“Good, because I suck at subtlety.”
Undressed, they settled into bed. Adam pulled Vic to him, rolled them to their side so he was the big spoon this time.
“This okay?” he asked.
“I should be asking you that.” Vic kissed his arm where it wrapped around his chest.
“More than okay.”
The frisson was still there, the static in his skin. He silently told it to fuck off, which helped a little. He’d have to try that more often.
23
A day at the garage and working with his hands usually soothed Adam. Today was that kind of busy where he couldn’t quite take a break or even grab a cup of coffee. The newer the car, the more parts and the more break points, though that wasn’t the problem with Mrs. Dickson’s Toyota. A wheel bearing was making a grinding noise, at least that was what he thought the problem was. He just couldn’t quite find it. This was the second time she’d brought it in.
“Should have taken it to the dealer,” she’d grumbled when she’d filled out the drop-off paperwork.
“We’ll do our best, ma’am,” Jesse told her, giving Adam a look that said, Don’t be a smart ass.
Jesse worked the counter a lot of the time. He liked giving the customers the personal touch. He was considering adding a wall and a waiting area so they didn’t have to see how the sausage was made. It would also make their wait quieter.
Adam liked the idea. Then he could just focus on the cars. He wasn’t as good at the people part of things and knew he needed to cultivate his patience and a better customer service persona. It was Jesse’s one critique when they sat down for their quarterly reviews.
