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“Never tried it, but I’m game. Name the day and time and we’ll get one together.”
When they first started exchanging letters, he expected it would last a couple months and then stop. However, the letters and e-mails continued. When he came back from his last deployment several months ago, they’d added sending text messages to their modes of communication. When he’d finalized his plans to move back to New England, she’d been one of the few people he told.
“I’ll check my calendar and get back to you.” She reached for her coffee and took a sip. “So, are you all moved into your new house?”
“More or less. My furniture arrived yesterday. I’ve got a few boxes to unpack. It won’t take me long.” He’d never been one for unnecessary items, a useful characteristic considering the number of times he’d moved.
“I hate packing and unpacking. I might stay where I am until I die,” Jen said.
Her comment suggested she’d moved around a fair amount herself. She’d never said as much, but he’d assumed she always lived in Rhode Island.
“When do you start at Homeland Security?” she asked.
When he’d accepted the position to work as a contractor in Homeland Security’s cyber division, she’d been the first person he told. Before today, the only other person besides her to know had been Dad. He’d finally shared the news with Mom this afternoon. “Monday.”
“Great timing. The rest of the week is supposed to be beautiful. Perfect beach weather.” She smiled, the expression changing her face from just pretty to beautiful. “If you get bored and want to fill in for me at work, I’ll trade with you. My tan needs some work.” She held out her arm, which compared to his skin remained pale.
“If you want to keep the promotion you got a few months ago, you don’t want me doing your work.” He eyed the guy approaching the counter. His head was shaved, and he had a large skull tattooed on his right bicep. The tattoo matched the one on the back of his leather vest. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll be too busy to enjoy the nice weather too,” Brett said, his eyes never leaving the guy.
Perhaps picking up on his distraction, Jen glanced over her shoulder. “Is something wrong?”
“The guy at the counter doesn’t fit in here.” Everyone else in the bakery was either dressed as if they’d just left work or looked to be college students. The guy at the counter looked like he belonged at a biker bar, not a downtown café.
“Oh, he comes in here a lot.” Jen looked back at him. “I think he works in the city because I’ve seen him at lunchtime wearing a suit.”
He couldn’t imagine the man in a suit.
“If you don’t plan on enjoying your last few days of freedom, what will you be doing?” Jennifer asked, returning to their conversation before he got distracted by the man ordering.
“Getting my campaign up and going.”
“You need to start now? The election is more than a year away.”
“Slight change in plans. Senator Brown’s death means the state will be holding a special election in December.”
“I wondered what would happen when I read he’d died. How does a special election work anyway?”
Brett spent the next half hour explaining the process. From there they proceeded to talk about everything from her work to what upcoming movies they were both looking forward to. Talking to her was similar to talking to any of his other friends.
“Yikes, is it really after eight?” Jennifer asked after checking her watch. Like him, she’d just finished her third cup of coffee, although she opted for decaf while he’d stuck with the real stuff.
It seemed like he’d just arrived, but his watch confirmed they’d been talking for almost two hours. “Affirmative.”
She slipped her bag’s straps onto her shoulder. “I hate to leave, but my dog is going to be starving.” She slid out from behind the table. It was the first time since he walked in that she’d stood up. “He probably has his legs crossed too. He hasn’t been outside since this morning.”
Brett didn’t hesitate to stand too. He’d been raised to be a gentleman. However, he was still a man, and he couldn’t help but give her a quick once-over. And he liked what he saw. Unlike the actresses so popular in Hollywood, she had a perfect hourglass figure. Even better, she was tall. He stood six two and she was only a few inches shorter than him without any heels.
“We don’t want that. I’ll walk you to your car.”
“You’re parked near North Main. My garage is in the opposite direction. Don’t worry about it,” Jen said.
Even if good manners hadn’t been drilled into him all his life, he would’ve offered to walk with her. He?
?d enjoyed their time together tonight and wasn’t eager for it to come to an end. “It’s a nice night, and I need the exercise. Humor me.”
Jen shrugged and the strap of her bag slipped from her shoulder. “They’re your feet.”
He pushed the strap back into place. Her sleeveless blouse left her entire arm bare, and he skimmed his fingers across her skin, amazed at how soft it felt. With the strap no longer a good reason to be touching her, he moved his hand to her lower back. “After you.”
