Chapter 15 #2
I feel kind of good about that. The couple of people I did attempt to date seriously in my younger years did want kids, and that was never something I’d wanted.
I do know what he means though. When I was handling Denver’s stalker case and taking his ASL class, he brought me along to a couple of events, and by the time we got through with all the goodbyes, I was ready to sleep for a week and knew way too much about Sharon and the cats she had when she was growing up.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Couple of Deaf friends own this little spot near the edge of town. It’s not Deaf only, but all the servers are ASL fluent. We can chill and relax.”
I’m not so sure that’s true. It’ll be a place he’s well-known, and people will ask questions about who I am, and how we met, and the dreaded, “What do you do for a living?”
Oh god. I need to tell him about his aunt, about what I found.
“I’m undercover,” I blurt nervously.
He whips his head around to look at me as we approach a stoplight. “Uh. What?”
“I mean, technically, I am. I was there when you attempted to buy TNT from me.”
“Right.” He lets out a soft puff of air. “What does that mean right now?”
“It means I might be onto something else, which we can talk about later, but right now, if we run into friends of yours, they can’t know why I’m here. Or how we met.”
The light turns green, and his gaze turns back to the road. ‘Ok,’ he signs with his right hand, then taps the steering wheel a few times before he asks aloud, “What do you usually tell people?”
Everyone in the FBI has a story. Half the people pick obscure jobs that most people won’t know enough about to ask questions. I hear florist a lot. A couple of the guys went with construction worker. One woman said she was a wedding planner—something her sister did, so she could fake it.
“I usually go with IT.”
He burst into laughter. “Right. Have you tried turning it on and off again?”
I can’t help but smile. “That’s about all people know. And hey, don’t knock it if it works. But also, I’m really good with tech.”
“You were good enough to fool me,” he replies. The car slows down, and up ahead, I see a small strip mall and a restaurant at the very end with its own parking lot. “So. You’re an IT guy, and we met…”
“At the gym?”
He shakes his head. “My very good friends own the gym, and everyone goes there.”
I grimace. “Uh…”
“Everyone knows about Michael,” he says as he pulls into the parking lot, then comes screeching to a halt behind a long row of cars. “Dude. You could have just asked my friends about Michael! What the hell!”
“I was going to. But if I started grilling the people who knew you, that would look suspicious. Especially since you thought I was your stalker. I guess I could just tell everyone the truth. I was stalking you.”
He snorts. “Yeah, don’t do that. They’ll have too many questions.”
He drives forward again, passing the strip mall and pulling into a spot near the restaurant’s front entrance. “How about if anyone asks,” he says, hitting the button to turn off his car, “I hired you to help me install the security setup to catch Michael.”
Alright, that’s a better option. Plus, I know enough about those types of systems to get by with any questions that may arise. But something in my gut sits uncomfortably. I don’t want to lie to his friends.
If something between us happens—if we make this real—I’m going to have to confess to all of it, and no one likes being lied to. But right now, I have no choice.
“It’ll be fine,” Leaf says. He reaches over and grabs my hand, pulling it to his lips to kiss the inside of my wrist. “It’s Thursday night. No one is going to be here that I know. Trust me.”
I do trust him. But I don’t trust the universe.
Yeah, the universe has it out for me because as soon as we walk in, the first person I see sitting across the room is Denver. He’s not facing the front of the room, so he doesn’t notice us, but it’s not going to be long before we’re recognized.
This place isn’t as bright as a hospital, but it definitely has better lighting than most restaurants, and the music is low enough that I’m only slightly aware something is playing.
All of the tables are also round, and from what I can see in the kitchen, there are mirrors all over.
“It’s so the Deaf staff can come around corners and not run into people,” Leaf says and signs at the same time when he follows my line of sight.
I nod and take the rest of the restaurant in. It’s got a ’50s diner vibe with bright red booth cushions and white linoleum tables. There’s a really long bar with stools and little jukeboxes that I’m pretty sure don’t actually work.
“It’s…”
“Kitschy,” he adds and shrugs. “The food is fire though.”
The hostess appears a second later. She’s tall, with curly dark hair piled on her head in a messy bun, and I can see glittery, bedazzled cochlear implants resting over her ears.
She eyes Leaf, then me—zeroes in on my hearing aids—and smiles. ‘Two?’
Leaf nods his fist. ‘Yeah, thanks.’
She grabs some menus, and then we zigzag through the tables until we’re seated two spots away from Denver.
The place is more than half-empty, so this is just my luck. Leaf doesn’t know that I’ve met and spent time with some of his friends long before I ever set eyes on him. He might be pissed about that too. Yet another thing I need to come clean about.
Luckily, Denver doesn’t notice us as we take our seats. I glance across the table at Leaf, who isn’t smiling, but even so, he doesn’t look nearly as stressed as he’s been over the last week.
He catches me staring, and his ears turn pink. ‘Like what you see?’ he signs.
I laugh and shrug, lifting my fist to answer back in sign. ‘Yes.’
He mimes flipping his hair back, but I can tell he’s overcompensating a bit. He’s done that more than once when his guard is up. I like him when he’s a little wild and unhinged and not overthinking.
“What’s good here?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I always get the same thing over and over. I tend to hyperfixate on one thing and eat it until the sight of it makes me want to puke.”
I hold in a laugh. That is so him. “What’s your fixation right now?”
“The chicken Caesar wrap. But don’t get it. I’ll feel like shit if I have terrible taste in food and you hate your dinner.”
His bottom lip sticks out when he’s done speaking, and I want to lean over and bite it. Instead, I check the menu and go for a burger. Nice and simple. I want to enjoy this. I want to learn how to do this dating thing so I can make Leaf happy.
“So,” I say, setting my menu down. I don’t get the rest of my words out. A server appears, giving us both a flat look. I don’t usually see Deaf people with that little expression, so I assume she’s either hearing or in the generation who has lost the ability to give a fuck about customer service.
“Hi,” she says.
Leaf glances at me for a beat. “Hi.”
“Drinks?”
I almost laugh. “I’ll stick with water.”
“Same,” Leaf says.
She continues to stare at us.
I feel myself wanting to fidget. “Um. Do you…want our orders?”
“Mm, okay,” she says flatly.
Leaf frowns and lifts his hands. ‘Chicken Caesar wrap with fries and extra dressing on the side.’
She doesn’t miss a beat. ‘Ok.’ Then she points at me and lifts her brows.
Licking my lips, I say aloud, “Burger, side of fries, but only if they can do them with no salt. Also, no salt on the burger.” I hate ordering out that way. The looks I usually get make me want to crawl out of the restaurant and never be seen again.
For all that she’s looked bothered by having to do her job though, she just nods and puts it into her little order pad and walks off without asking us if that was it.
“Uh,” Leaf says after a beat. “The service is normally different.”
I burst into laughter and reach across the table, taking his hand. “It’s fine. This is nice.”
He turns his wrist so he’s palm up against me and presses his thumb into the side of my hand. “If it sucks—”
“It’s not going to suck, Leaf. I…” I hesitate, then shrug. “I don’t do this a lot. Or ever.”
“Dating a man.”
I scoff. “Dating anyone. You are my first man though.”
His eyes widen. “So you were serious about that?”
I snort and shrug, dragging my fingers over his as I sit back and fold my arms. “Yes, I was serious about that. Not everything was a lie. Most of it was the truth. The moment I set eyes on you, something…I don’t know…
felt like it unlocked. Or shattered. You were out of your mind, and all I wanted to do was kiss you until you calmed down. ”
He stares for a second. “We did a lot more than kiss.”
I laugh again. “Yeah, we did. And it was amazing.”
“And you’re not having any bi-panic?”
“Oh, you’ve given me bi-panic,” I confess.
“But not the kind that makes me want to run away. I think…” I trail off, drumming my fingers on the table.
“I think I’ve always kind of known I was into guys but just dismissed the way I felt.
I think it’s probably obvious that being out and proud in law enforcement isn’t something that’s widely accepted. ”
Leaf says nothing, and that tells me his opinion on what I do. I don’t blame him. I’ve been disillusioned for years.
“Anyway, you make me panic, but in good ways. I’ve liked everything about you so far.”
“Even when you thought I was some deranged killer?”
“That’s where most of the panic came in.”
He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”
“You can shut me up later when we get out of here.”
His cheeks go a little more ruddy, and he takes a breath to say something else when suddenly there’s a commotion at the table beside us. I turn quickly, just in time to see Denver yanking his arm away from the guy he’s at the table with.
He looks furious. And a little afraid. I’ve seen him look like this once, years ago. It was just weeks after my official diagnosis, and he was my distraction from dealing with everything I knew was coming.
My hackles go up, and I stand as the guy takes a swipe at Denver.
“I don’t fucking think so,” I rumble loudly before realizing there’s a good chance the man can’t hear me.
He does though. He stiffens and turns. “What the fuck is your prob—” Then he sees me, and his jaw snaps shut.
I looked up at Denver. ‘You OK?’
He shakes his head no.
‘Stalker?’
“Excuse me?” the guy bellows. “Stalker?”
Leaf is on his feet now, and he walks over, extending his hand to Denver. ‘Come on,’ he signs with his free one. ‘Empty seat.’ He points to our table, and while this is not how I anticipated our date going, I’m not going to let any bullshit slide.
Denver shuffles over, and the guy looks like he wants to throw an actual toddler tantrum. But he doesn’t. Not with me watching. He digs into his pocket, pulls out a wallet, and throws cash on the table before looking back at Denver, who is now sitting down.
‘Can we talk?’
Denver flips him off.
“You have your answer,” I say, then sign so Denver can understand. “Fuck off.”
The guy stands there like he’s going to cause a scene, and then after a tense few breaths, he turns and stomps out. The air in the room is thick. We’re now being watched by customers and staff.
I sink back into my chair and look over at Denver, who isn’t quite shaking, but he’s definitely pale.
‘Thank you,’ he signs to me. ‘What are you doing here? A case?’
Leaf makes a choking noise and stares at me with wide eyes. ‘You two know each other?’
My shoulders sag, and I nod. ‘There might be more that you don’t know.’
Leaf stares at me hard, then replies, ‘Start talking. Now.’