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“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m asking you this stuff.”
“We could find out.”
“What?”
“I told you there are certain things that I’m good at. I could help you find out.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. But, I can’t do anything that puts the people I care about in danger.”
“You’re talking about my father, or whoever he was?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe. There’s no way I would let him or anyone else do anything to you,” he said making my heart pound.
“I believe you.”
“Where do we begin?’
“At the scene of the crime.”
As much as I wanted to be around him, I needed time to process everything. So, instead of talking anymore about it across a desk at his place of work, we made arrangements for me to meet him at his place the following day. It would be a Saturday and I could head up early.
He had ended the conversation by saying, “It’s a date.” Was it a date? Or, was he using it colloquially? I wanted it to be a date. I wanted every moment I spent with him to be a step that brought us closer together.
The location made for a strange first date, though. And, figuring out who his father was and if his mother was still alive made for a strange first date activity. Most people went for ice cream.
“I brought ice cream,” I told him when I arrived at his place the next day.
“You brought ice cream?”
“And a few other things. Milk, juice, a couple of frozen pizzas, a couple of TV dinners… and ice cream.”
“So, you brought groceries?”
“You said your father was gone. I didn’t know who did the shopping. And I was already at the grocery store…”
“Getting ice cream…”
“Yeah. So, I figured why not pick up a few things. You could always just stick them in your freezer if you don’t want them.”
Cage chuckled. “Thank you. You’re gonna make it really hard for me to stop dreaming about you.”
“Who says I want you to?” I asked feeling my cheeks flush.
“Good point,” he said looking at me like he wanted to kiss me.
I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to kiss him too. But, how did a guy on crutches kiss a guy carrying two heavy grocery bags?
Instead of kissing me like I was desperate for him to, he led me inside.
“I’ll put these away,” I told him heading to the kitchen.
“You called it the scene of the crime, so I didn’t clean up. I wanted to, but I didn’t want to move something that Detective Quin might need to crack the case,” he said teasingly.
“No. That was good.”
