I felt a little thrill shiver over my skin and took the call.
“Hey.”
“Hey honey. Bad news. Got a callout. I can’t do the stakeout with you today.”
That was a huge fraking bummer.
“Okay,” I replied.
“I’ll be at your place tonight, seven thirty.”
“Does seven thirty mean our reservation is at eight?”
“Eight fifteen, in case we hit traffic or weather.”
“Will this mean you’ll turn into a pumpkin on the way back, considering we’ll probably get home past your bedtime?”
Silence then, “Now she gives me smartass and it’s still f**kin’ cute.”
I smiled.
The boy showed.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed on a muted cry. “He’s back.”
“How’s he look?”
I studied him as he made his careful way to the return bin. “He’s wearing my coat, new jeans. The hat. He really should wear the gloves and scarf I bought him. It’s cold. I’ll put that in my next note.” Then, quietly, “Lip still bad.”
“He uses the Neosporin, it’ll help.”
“Yeah.”
I listened to Chace sigh as I watched the boy make it to the bags.
“He get ‘em?” Chace asked.
“He’s going for them now.”
“Good,” he muttered then, “Gonna let you go. See you tonight.”
“Tonight, Chace.”
“Later, honey.”
He disconnected.
I watched the boy walk away with the bags.
I gave it time, secured Chace’s coffee (latte, triple shot) and then drove into the lot.
I took Chace’s coffee with me into the library and I drank it after mine. This meant I was wired all morning.
Or it could be my date with Chace that night that made me wired.
It didn’t matter.
It felt like I was dancing on air.