Page 117 of The Long Game

Jack patted his back, hoping to move him toward the door. “Maman has our numbers and will call us if she needs anything. Won’t you?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

Jack was going to mark this day on his calendar because that was the first time in Jack’s entire adult life she’d agreed toanythingthat easily.

Colton didn’t budge.

Jack’s mother glared at him.“He wants you to tell him it’s okay to leave. ThatI’mokay,” his mother said in rapid French.

“How do you know?”

“Because that’s what children need from their parents. Reassurance.”

Jack stared at her, speechless.

“With age comes wisdom,” she snapped, knowing perfectly well what Jack was thinking. Weirdly, her biting tone was reassuring. She gestured at Colton impatiently with her cigarette. “Now do your job.”

“Colton, Maman is okay, I promise. The doctors said the best thing is for her to rest. We’ll come tomorrow and make sure she has everything she needs, okay?”

The little wrinkle between Colton’s eyebrows disappeared. “Yeah, if you’re sure?”

“Very sure,” Jack said with confidence.

“Okay, cool,” Colton said, smiling at last. “Is there anything we can do before we go, Maman?”

“You can leave me in peace,” she said, though her voice wasn’t sharp as Jack suspected she’d intended it to be.

Colton circled the coffee table and bent to give her a hug. Jack muffled a snort of laughter at her wide-eyed horror, but it was shockingly sweet when she patted his back with one hand while holding her cast, and the cigarette, away from him.

“You’re a good boy,” she murmured softly.

“What was that?” Colton asked, not able to translate.

She gave him her best stink-eye. “Don’t show up too early, young man. A lady needs her sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Colton’s cheeky grin lit up his face.

Jack refrained from pointing out his mother had been waking up at 6 a.m. like clockwork for the last thirty years. She was obviously trying to ensure Colton, and maybe even Jack, got enough sleep.

Jack was grateful. And very, very confused.

Definitely body snatchers.

Grady hada good day at work. The two dark spots were the lack of leads about Hannah and Jack’s call about Babcock. He had everything wrapped up and was standing by his desk when the clock ticked over to five.

As soon as he walked into the apartment, Jack put down what he was working on in the kitchen. Grady pulled him in tight and Jack buried his face in Grady’s neck. The whole day melted away as Jack sagged against him. Fuck, that was better.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

Turning his head to press his lips to Grady’s ear, he murmured, “You know what I really, really want to do tonight?”

Grady’s imagination took flight. He slid his hand down to Jack’s lower back, bringing their hips together. “What?” he whispered.

Jack’s nose dragged along Grady’s cheek. “Watch the Jays play the Yankees, of course.”

Grady went still, his hopeful, arousal-soaked brain momentarily unable to process what he’d just heard. Then he let out a snort of laughter. “Oh my god, you’re such an asshole.”

Jack grinned, and Grady was laughing when he pulled Jack in for a long kiss.

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