Page 32 of Connected
“I do.”
“I know.”
After they finally managed to get dressed, Keaton cooked them hamburgers with nuked potatoes. They were just finishing up when Chief Grimes and Tenrael showed up. As usual, Tenrael didn’t say much but seemed amused by the pair of them. Grimes, who ate two more of Keaton’s almond peach muffins, listened to their debriefing but seemed uncharacteristically distracted. Owen couldn’t discern the cause.
Finally, when dusk had fallen, Grimes stood. “Agent Clark, you can put the rest in your report when you return to LA. I’ll have a replacement ID card and car keys delivered to you before you leave here. And weapons. What else will you need to get back home?”
Home. It wasn’t a word that had truly meant anything to Owen for a very long time. He stood and tried to find the right words. Keaton nudged him. “I know what you want, O. I want it too. Tell him.”
Good Lord, it was easy to fall into a relationship with someone who could read your emotions better than you could. Owen gave him a grateful smile before turning to Grimes. “I’m taking early retirement, I guess.”
Grimes gave him a long look. “Do you want to retire?”
Owen sighed. “No. But I’m staying here in Copper Springs.”
“All right.” Grimes looked pensive. “This is a long distance from HQ. Takes a long time for agents to get out this way when needed. I wouldn’t mind having someone stationed here.”
That possibility hadn’t even occurred to Owen. “Seriously?”
“Yes. Look… something’s coming. I don’t know what yet, but it’s big. Townsend knew it. I can’t afford to lose anyone, and certainly not a valued agent like you. I have the feeling Mr. Gale could help our cause as well. As a consultant, maybe.”
It was funny, really. When Miller had attempted to recruit Owen, it wasn’t the threat of torture and death that had tempted Owen to say yes—it was the concept of being needed. Miller had made him feel important instead of like a guy doing a mediocre job while the real stars shone. But now the chief had called himvaluedand was acting like he meant it. And in Owen’s experience, Grimes was odd, but he wasn’t a liar.
“I might have a few years left in me,” Owen said.
Grimes didn’t smile—he rarely did—but his expression relaxed a little, and Tenrael nodded approval.
“Consultant?” Keaton sounded intrigued.
“You get called in when needed and paid per diem. Ten and I did it for… well, a really long time. Technically, he still does, even though I’m back to being full-time and salaried. When we get back to LA, I’ll send you a contract to look over.” Grimes pressed his lips together for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was low and urgent. “I don’t know if you realize how rare your talents are and how beneficial. When the shit hits the fan, I’d really like to have you on our team.”
Keaton blinked a few times before standing straighter. “I might like that too.”
They discussed a few more details after that, but the chief was clearly eager to get on his way, and Owen wanted… well, he wanted to start the next phase of his life. Smiling, Keaton wrapped up the last of the muffins for Grimes and then walked outside with him and Tenrael.
After chief and demon had left, Keaton and Owen stood on the porch, watching the sun set behind the cemetery. There was no threat of a storm tonight; the sky was faultless and the still airscented with the flowers in Keaton’s garden. The world and all its worries seemed far away.
“I hope you’re planning to move in with me,” Keaton said, taking Owen’s hand in his.
“If you really want that. I don’t want to be an imposi?—”
Keaton squeezed Owen’s hand hard. “I really want that.”
“It’s a big step. I’ve never been in anything like a relationship.”
“Neither have I.”
“And you’re inviting me into your home after knowing me for only two days.”
“Owen.” Keaton turned so he could set his hands on Owen’s shoulders and look up into his face. “We’ve known each other for over twenty years. And Iknowyou. Exactly who you are and what makes you tick. You’re the person I want in my home.”
They embraced, there on the porch, and Owen wondered whether any of the neighbors could see, and if so, what they thought. Maybe Copper Springs had grown more progressive since he’d been a kid.
“You’re thinking too much,” said Keaton, separating from the hug and tugging Owen toward the door. “You’ve earned some rest. Tomorrow we can worry about organizing our lives.”
Owen liked the sound ofour.
“There’s something else I need to do tomorrow,” Owen said. He closed and locked the front door behind them.
