Page 72 of A Labor of Hate
“You’re right,” I relented.“We’ll take things slow.Even though we’ll be around each other twenty-four-seven and—” I frowned.“No more shirtless pull-ups, okay?For my sanity’s sake.”
He chuckled again, and I could picture the sly smirk that undoubtedly graced his lips.“Not sure I can promise that.”
I groaned, not at all disappointed.“Okay, fine.How will we know what’s real between us when we’re out in public?Because this could really mess with my head.”
He hummed thoughtfully and rubbed gentle circles against the backs of my hands with his thumbs, the touch as electrifying as it was comforting.“How about a code word?Something innocuous.Like… daffodils.”
The corner of my mouth inched upward.“You really want to know why I stare at them so much, don’t you?”
Not that I thought I’d stared at them at all before now.Just a lingering glance whenever I passed the flowerbeds out front.But that was enough, I guess.
“I want to know why you look at them the way you do,” he corrected.“They mean something to you.”
“All right, yeah.They do.”I blew out a breath and shifted my legs to improve circulation.“They were my brother’s favorite flower.He’d point them out every time he saw them, no matter what.”
Kind of like me whenever I drove past cows.
I used to think Dominick pointed them out because they were one of the two flowers he knew the names of, but now, I liked to imagine he loved them so much because they were like sunbeams popping out of the ground after a harsh winter.That was why I loved them, anyway.And they reminded me of him.
I smiled, sadly.“I’d planted some in the window box of my old apartment back in Philly so I’d always have some to bring to his grave on his angel date.This year, I transferred right before, and so I’d tried to get a florist to deliver a bouquet with them in it on my behalf.There was some sort of issue with the order, though, and they cancelled it and—” I shook my head to clear it, cutting my rambling short.“The point is, this year I couldn’t get him his daffodils.”
Thunder rumbled, more distant than the last time.Colt silently absorbed my explanation.The faintest rustle of movement came from his direction.“When is his angel date?”
My smile widened, completely devoid of humor.“March eighth.The day we?—”
“Met,” Colt finished.“Wow.So… that explains a lot, actually.”
I cringed at the memory of my first day at the Detroit field office.Everything had gone spectacularly wrong.Everything.And yet, now something that felt spectacularlyrighthad come of it.“Yeah, I’m still sorry about that.”
He sighed.“Me, too.I should have given you the benefit of the doubt.It was obvious you’d had a horrible morning.I just had no ideahowhorrible.”
“And I should’ve done the same for you.”I squeezed his hands playfully.“Turns out, you’re only half as annoying as I thought you’d be.”
“Funny,” he mused drily, “I could say the same about you.”
I laughed until another blitz of lightning sobered me.“So, daffodils and no more pretending with each other?”
He pulled me a little closer, a smile in his voice.“No more pretending.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Lex’s Top SecretMental Log, Undercover Assignment Days 16-21:
Tuesday night, the Spouse stayed in my room watching the rest of my movie with me until the thunderstorm was over.He has also started wearing colorful dress shirts to work occasionally.
The Spouse and I have made daily walks a new part of our routine.Along with sharing any updates assignment-wise, we talk to each other as ourselves.Our real selves.I’ve learned that Colt grew up in northern Illinois and has strong opinions on college football teams but couldn’t care less about NFL teams.He ran track and cross-country in high school, studied criminal justice in college, and served as a police officer for two years before being accepted into the FBI.On the weekends before our assignment, he volunteered at the library to read for story time as often as he could.The handholding on these walks is simply an added benefit.
Colleen has made it her mission to be outside when we are either leaving for or returning from our walks.It is still unclear whether she is the true superspy among us.It is also unclear whether I am more afraid of her or Miss Karma at this point.
When The Spouse mentioned taking things slow between us, I hadn’t realized he meant sloth-pace slow.Arthritic-sloth-on-a-chilly-morning slow.Glacial, really.We snuggle together on the couch, hold hands sometimes, and share incidental touches as often as possible.Absolutely no kissing has occurred, as much as I want it to.But if this is what it takes to have him in any shape or form, I’ll gladly embrace the wait.His touch alone does more to me than anyone else’s kiss ever has.
Aunt Flow came to town Saturday morning.Saturday afternoon, a bag of chocolates and a bottle of painkillers appeared on my bed.
On a related note, I’ve discovered how difficult it is to change tampons around a silicone baby bump.Zero out of ten, would not recommend.
Vivienne invited us to have dinner at their house Sunday night.This will be the closest we’ve gotten to potentially finding any usable intel.
I’D SEEN A multitude of high-security buildings in my life, and I’d still never seen ahousewith as many cameras as the Gauthier’s had.Not in person.Even while surveilling Charles for the past two months, we couldn’t see much past the tall hedges and fence ringing the property, so we hadn’t known just how secure the house was.Charles’ lab was likely the only space that didn’t have everything filmed from four different angles.
