Page 26 of Forget Me Not

“What do you do?” Ray ignored the pretty eyes so intent upon him and considered the corkboard instead. A living room that was more of a shared office told him two workaholics lived here. Penn probably had a lot to say about that.

“Oh.” Cal’s voice did a wavery, wobbly thing, before brightening as he explained. “Right. Well, Benny and I do investigations—we’re licensed private investigators now, although that was mostly for legal reasons. We research, and we look into things, and sometimes we do odd sorts of errands. We work with several organizations dedicated to being rights and human rights. Rainbow Wings is one. They operate out of the village. We still do some work for the police too. But only a little, and only when it’s obvious that they are railroading someone with their deliberate ignoran—anyway. The PD claim to have their own experts now.” His tone was briefly scathing. Ray didn’t object.

Experts hadn’t been able to help him. They hadn’t even been called that he knew of. Not until Benny and Cal had spoken with Cassandra.

He scowled at the realization and Cal began to spew out more words.

“Rainbow Wings does really good work, honestly. We do a lot for them but it’s a shame they have to spend so much time trying to get money. But the village has a history of supporting its own. Provided everyone, human and being, doesn’t get forced out so some giant company can build condos, they should stay strong.”

“Callalily Parker?” Ray cut in when Cal stopped to breathe. “And someone earlier mentioned Calvin? Parker? You’re Calvin’s son?”

Ray remembered Calvin Parker, although they were distant memories, as though he hadn’t seen Calvin for a long, long time.

Ray must have been making quite the pained face because Cal grew concerned. “Is your headache worse?”

“You shouldn’t worry about me.” Ray didn’t growl, but his voice was hoarse.

Cal rolled his eyes. “If ordering emotions around worked, you wouldn’t… well. Never mind that.” He went abruptly businesslike. “Don’t forget to put your suit in a garbage bag. I’m going to run it by Cassandra tomorrow just in case, before we burn it.”

Ray didn’t have the kind of money to throw around buying new suits for work all the time. He grimaced but didn’t object.

“Including your tie, which is a shame. I liked that one.” Cal clucked his tongue. “We might have some pink salt bath scrub or something.” At Ray’s raised eyebrows, he added, “there’s this woman in my dad’s book group who is trying to woo him, I think. Gives him stuff like that. I think she thinks it’s sexy? Anyway, he dumped a bunch of it here a while back and I don’t think I threw it away. It’ll be in a container somewhere. I’ll dig it out.”

Ray glanced pointedly to the other things taking up space on Cal’s desk—the sealed plastic tubs full of candy.

Cal returned to being overly talkative and nervous. “A compromise. For the mess and the smell. No more hiding candy all over the place.”

Ray rubbed his nose, unwilling to imagine the scent of different candies filling his house when the sweet scent of Cal was already soaked into everything.

Cal lifted a hand in question. “I don’t know what that means.”

Ray gestured helplessly at the room. “It looks like you live here.” Cal opened his mouth, frowned, then shut it. Ray gestured again, this time toward his desk, compulsively neat, and then the undoubtedly organized box of files by the couch. “You don’t mind me?”

Cal opened his mouth again, although nothing came out for several moments. “You don’t mindme?” he returned at last. Ray blinked. Cal crossed his arms. “Believe it or not, I cannot actually read your mind.”

“Yes,” Ray huffed, not exactly furious, but hardly calm, “I got that from the fact that you read werewolf romance novels because I didn’t—” He stopped, breathing harder.

“I read them to you, sometimes,” Cal volunteered quietly. “Sometimes they’re hot.” Ray met his stare. Cal was serious. “They’re nothing to you, though. The real thing.”

His gaze was steady. It was not strictly lust in the air, on Ray’s tongue.

Cal had said he’d begged to be brought back here, something that made no sense when Ray had hungered for him after only moments of knowing him.

Cal finally looked away. He spoke lightly. “But this is hardly the time for that. You’re lost in your own home.”

“I wasn’t expecting…” Ray left it there, because whatever he had been expecting—perhaps a few signs of Cal’s presence, like more candy, or clothes left behind after sex—was not a whiteboard with his handwriting next to a giant heart in green, or the words, “The pursuit of truth will set you free—even if you never catch up with it.”

“There are more notes in the kitchen,” Cal informed him gently while Ray studied the pink scrawl that must be Cal’s writing. “We got that, uh, chalkboard spray, you know? It’s on one of the walls. For chalk. I mean writing with chalk. I like the colors, also.” Ray turned to him, eyebrows high. Cal coughed. “Yeah. I know. Home improvements are not really your area, but you had some forced home time. It’s their policy for injuries, even though you healed.” He touched his arm in the same spot he had that afternoon to indicate Ray’s scarring. “You didn’t need the rest but you were off work, so we did that. I like it. Makes the kitchen seem more like people live here who use it on a regular basis. Which we don’t, to be honest. It’s a time thing. You’re the only one who cooks even a little and you’ll eat fast food and protein bars when you’re busy, which you usually are.”

“Do you normally do this?” Ray’s question stopped Cal again.

He blinked guilelessly. “Hmm?”

“Keep talking when you’re upset,” Ray finished, frowning.

Cal made a charmingly pissy face before answering loftily. “I talk all the time. And you listen, even when I think you don’t.” Relaying this didn’t seem to appease him. “Iamupset,” he admitted stiffly. “But I think I have a right to be.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Ray could go to the bedroom, or a hotel, if that wasn’t enough. Although hotels were not his favorite due to the noises and smells.

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