Chapter 6 #3
A yawning space opened with the confession. We’d run out of case-related things to discuss, and the real reason for Kobe’s drink invitation sat like a hot pink elephant on the table between us. I’d shut him down twice, and I suspected Kobe was about to give up.
I still didn’t know what to do. The shredded remains of my heart barely functioned and were a horrible guide.
Our second drinks vanished. Kobe pushed his empty glass aside in a way that conveyed finality. “I imagine your babysitter is expecting you home soon.”
“I didn’t give her a time frame. She’ll fall asleep on the couch if I’m too late.”
No response.
Kobe drew patterns on the tabletop before curling his fingers near his mouth and resting his chin in an upturned palm. I imagined he wanted to ask where I stood or what was happening, but his confidence seemed to have waned.
I wet my lips and motioned to his empty glass. “Another drink?”
The question hung between us.
Kobe warily studied my face without responding. I couldn’t blame him.
Risking everything, answering his unasked question, I shifted my leg against his. Two drinks had lowered my inhibition and dampened my fear.
It made me stupid. Reckless.
Would I regret it in the morning?
Time would tell.
The bold act worked. The crescent groove of a single dimple showed in the dark stubble on Kobe’s cheek.
“Sure. I could have another drink. Would you like to share a couple of appetizers? I’m embarrassed to admit, I’m a bit of a lightweight when it comes to hard liquor.
I skipped dinner, and the drinks are going straight to my head. ”
The glassy sheen in his eyes supported the claim.
We ordered something called Bang Bang shrimp—Kobe swore that if I liked seafood and spice, it was a winner—and house focaccia. Every order of the latter supposedly helped support the citywide school breakfast program. This fact seemed important to Kobe, which was a testament to his character.
Both dishes were amazing. The spicy shrimp coupled well with another round of smoky Morticians. When I asked Kobe about the bar’s whole goth theme, he explained that when the building was first erected, the city’s mortician took up residence in the basement, away from the public eye.
“Back then, people were leery of a man who dealt in death. Later, the ownership changed hands. When the speakeasy opened and Prohibition came into effect, the secretive lounge gave people somewhere private to drink and socialize. The vibe proved inviting, so the owners kept it alive.”
With food and more alcohol, the conversation drifted. Fearing Kobe might delve into my past, I kept questions centered around him, asking about his little brother and the sort of things they got up to.
Kobe glowed, happily sharing about movies they had seen and trips taken. émeric’s mother was young and barely scraped by. She’d left her son’s abusive father but not before the child had withdrawn so far into himself that the school had expressed concern.
“émeric has come a long way since we met. He’s a typical nine-year-old now. He keeps me busy.”
“Do you have any proper siblings?”
Lips pressed in a firm line, he diverted his gaze to the remains of our appetizers. “One. A half sister.”
Older? Younger? He did not elaborate, and I didn’t ask. A wall slammed down between us. Kobe’s good humor faded. It seemed he, too, had limits to what he wanted to share.
I tried a different approach. “Did you grow up in Ottawa?”
Kobe stabbed the final shrimp and dragged it through the sauce. “Nah. Grew up in a shit town about forty-five minutes south of here called Kemptville, but I moved to Ottawa when I was sixteen.”
“Are your parents still local?”
Another hard press of his lips before he mumbled, “I came alone. They stayed in Kemptville. Still there so far as I know.”
Again, he did not elaborate or explain why he’d left home so young, but a picture formed. Kobe’s easy smiles vanished. An awkward discomfort swelled, threatening to ruin the evening.
We silently agreed to listen to the music. The chatter of other patrons’ conversations danced around us. The candle flickered with the promise of a romantic evening. It wasn’t working, and I suspected the fault was mine.
I felt the heat of Kobe’s gaze, and I glanced up.
He shifted. The pressure of his leg against mine increased, demanding my attention, asking something I wasn’t ready to answer aloud.
Fire licked a burning path over my skin and pebbled sweat on my upper lip.
My heart knocked a frantic rhythm, and the room grew swelteringly hot.
We’d been at the Apothecary for close to two hours, and I’d kept my jacket on the entire time—winter-grade heavy leather, unsuitable for indoors. It served as a protective shell when vulnerability threatened to kneecap me.
Removing it at this point felt ridiculous.
“I didn’t invite you for a drink to discuss work, Dominique. That was an excuse.” Kobe’s barely audible confession hung between us, the pressure of his leg more pronounced.
“I know.” My voice hitched. I stared into my empty glass, clinging to it so I had something to do with my hands. “I suspected.”
“Was I wrong? To ask. I mean… I wasn’t sure if… Well, um, Rue suggested it might be too soon. If it is, I understand.”
Too soon? Interested? Fuck. We were going to address it. “You discussed me with your partner?”
“I may have mentioned I had a slight crush on the city’s new pathologist. I didn’t know if you…
were interested in men at first, but I think that’s been cleared up.
” He applied pressure to my thigh, reminding me that I’d initiated contact that time.
“Rue encouraged me to go for it, but that was before I knew about your wife, and…”
“My wife. Right.” The word felt funny on my tongue, but I hated it more hearing it from Kobe’s mouth.
“I’ll back off if you aren’t interested or ready, but…
Can you give me a sign? I’m getting mixed messages.
I’m not good at this traditional way of going about getting a date.
” He laughed nervously. “I mean… I normally stick to apps where people state their intentions quite boldly and there’s no mystery. ”
A thousand thoughts swarmed my brain. I pressed my clammy hands to the table’s surface for stability. “I’ll be honest. I haven’t dated in a long time.”
“I assumed as much. I guess the question is, do you want to? We don’t have to dive into dating territory immediately. We barely know each other, but… If you were interested, I would like to get to know you, Dominique.”
I found Kobe’s eyes in the dark. Fathomless pits of flaming amber and honey. Hope and a healthy dose of wariness sat on the surface. Thirty-two, despite how his nervous energy made him seem younger.
“I can’t make promises. I’m… not myself all the time.”
He shifted and seemed to consider his words. “Can I ask something personal?”
I closed my eyes and braced for impact.
He took that as permission. “How long ago did she die? You implied it was not long after your daughter was born.”
I saw her again, her pale beauty trapped on the inside of my eyelids. The stillness of death had transformed her into someone I barely recognized. “She died on the day Cosette was born. Within hours.”
Silence. I feared opening my eyes and seeing the look on Kobe’s face. It took everything in me to keep my emotions behind a locked door.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
A warm hand curled around mine. I opened my eyes and stared at the connection. Kobe’s heat sent a shiver up my spine. He loosened my clenched fists and soothed the angry crescent-shaped grooves left behind by my fingernails. The entire time, his gaze remained fixed on me.
“I should probably go.” My voice was barely audible.
Kobe didn’t argue. He waved down a server and asked for the bill. “Together,” he said.
When I protested, he squeezed my hand. “My treat.”
“I’ll get it next time.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “Will there be a next time, Doc?”
I place my other hand on top of our joined ones, ignoring the tremble radiating through my entire body. “I hear jazz night is a good time. Plus, I haven’t tried the dinner menu. I’m told it’s spectacular.”
“Sounds like a date.”
I found the bravery to meet Kobe’s gaze. “I can’t make promises.”
“I know. I’m okay with that.”
Kobe paid the tab, and we headed out into the brisk winter night. Low cloud cover threatened snow. In the parking lot, Kobe stopped and faced me, thumbing over his shoulder. “I’m this way.”
“All right. Thanks for tonight. I haven’t gotten out in a long time. It was nice.”
“Is it okay if I text you?”
“I think so.”
Kobe gnawed his bottom lip as his smile grew wide enough to display his dimples. “Good night, Doc.”
“Good night, Detective.”