Page 82 of Eight Years Gone

He shook his head.

“The yearbook kids are taking pictures at the football game. I told them I would be there if they wanted any hints with their shots. If you’re up for it, you can come along.”

“Friday night lights with my favorite girl?” He nuzzled her neck. “Try and keep me away.”

She smiled. “Christy, Mike, and Brennan are coming. I think Ben mentioned something about stopping by too.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I thought so.” She reached for a handful of the cheddar, adding it to the pot, whisking it into the mixture. “It’s been a long time since we’ve watched a football game together.”

They’d gone to several Syracuse home games, donning their ugly orange and blue in the name of school spirit. “Bring on the crappy nachos and cold pizza.”

She laughed.

He smiled again. “How else can I help with dinner?”

“Are you up for a little salad prep? Everything’s already washed. It just needs to be chopped.”

“I can do—” His phone started ringing.

Pulling it from his back pocket, he sighed as he read Jason Gray’s name.

Grace frowned. “Is everything okay?”

He nodded, deciding he might as well answer. Because Jason would just keep calling if he didn’t. “It’s my old boss.”

“Oh.”

“This should only take a second.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Sighing again, he answered as he stepped back from Grace. “Hello?”

“Are you bored playing average Joe yet?”

He moved farther away when Grace’s brow furrowed again. “I’d say it’s working just fine for me.”

“I have a job for you. South America. Thirty days. A hundred thousand dollars.”

Jagger moved to the fridge, grabbing the peppers, carrots, and tomatoes for the salad. “No, thanks.”

“They want you. I want you. You’re the best I have.”

He headed for the counter, watching Grace pour the cheese over the macaroni, then slide the large casserole dish into the oven. “I was the best you had.”

“What if I can get you a hundred twenty-five?”

He picked up his knife to get started on the red pepper but set it back down when he noticed Grace’s stiff shoulders as she headed for the laundry room. “You could get me two, and I’d still say no.”

“What about two twenty-five?”

He reached for Grace, catching her by the elbow as she walked back with a load of clean towels in her basket.

She pulled away, sending him a small smile as she kept walking toward the bedroom.

“The answer’s still no. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

---