Chapter Sixteen
Finn
Iached in muscles I didn’t know I had, and my joints felt like the Tin Man’s after a heavy rain. Hell, even my head pounded.
Yet, when my phone rang with that special ringtone—that one dedicated just for the guy who was regularly fucking me into the mattress—I answered.
“Yeaaah?” God, could I sound any more pathetic? In truth, I wasn’t certain I could. In fact, that my eyes were open at all was a goddamn miracle.
“Rough day?”
“You saw the fire.” Shit.
Ulysses chuckled. “You saw me, eh? I wasn’t sure if you had. Miriam waved. You didn’t.”
“Did I hurt your feelings?”
“Not in the least. You were working—I’d never interfere.”
“Well, that’s good. What’s up?”
“I need a date. A business date. And, well, this has nothing to do with questions.”
“What do you mean?” My mind was so befuddled that I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say.
“I need to check something out. And going to a target location on a date would make me look less like I’m poking my nose around in stuff.”
I laughed. “You hardly need me as a cover. Why not take Spring?”
“Right. Two reporters. That’s not conspicuous at all.” No missing the sarcasm.
“Where are we going?”
“You know Tully’s?”
“On the highway? Sure, I’ve been there.” Wasn’t my favorite place, but if he’d wanted to go to Fifties, then we would’ve been going to Fifties. I was just as glad my favorite diner wasn’t the target location. I yawned.
Ulysses immediately said, “I’ll swing by to pick you up.”
I barked out a laugh. “Ulysses, I’m fifteen minutes in the wrong direction.”
“Just stay put and I’ll get you. I want to pick your brain.” He hung up.
I stretched. If I put my head down, I was liable to go to sleep. I sniffed myself. Yep. Another shower’s in order. I still had an odeur de smoke—even though I’d already scrubbed down at the hall. Or maybe the lingering scent was just my imagination.
Still, I hopped in, washed quickly, and was dressed and towel-drying my hair when Ulysses arrived. I opened my door to him. Scrumptious. I could totally eat him up. Those blue jeans and his black leather jacket with the aviator sunglasses. Damn.
He arched an eyebrow. “Keep looking at me like that and we’ll never make it to dinner.”
“I’ve got some leftover pasta. Or I can whip up a batch of Kraft Dinner after we’ve dirtied my sheets.”
He stepped forward and yanked me in for a hard kiss. “As much as I love KD—and I truly do and will one day take you up on that offer—my questions aren’t going to get answered if we stay in.”
I pouted.
With a grin, he yanked me out through my front door. He stepped back inside, grabbed my jacket, keys, and sunglasses. He handed me the jacket and glasses, then he locked the door.
“I could’ve done that myself.” Since the sun was only now beginning to hit the horizon, I donned my shades. By the time we headed home, I wouldn’t need them.
Ulysses slapped my ass. “I know you can. Now, get in.”
I did. And by the time he was on my street, I was fast asleep.
With a start, I awoke when his tires hit gravel. “Oh shit.”
He laughed. “I wasn’t going to wake you, Sleeping Beauty. Except for the snoring, you were adorable.” He pulled into a spot, put the SUV in Park, but didn’t turn off the engine. “I almost turned around—I really didn’t realize how tired you are. That’s on me. We can go back—”
“No way.” I stretched. “Turn the engine off and let’s go in. That twenty-minute power nap will carry me through until I get home. Just don’t let me fall asleep on the way home—that’ll really fuck with my internal clock.”
“You’re sure?”
I reached over and hit the ignition to shut the engine off. “I’m sure.”
“Yeah, okay.” He unplugged his phone from the charger. Then we both got out and headed inside the restaurant.
Tully’s was sort of a cross between a bar and a restaurant.
The pool room in the back was the sort-of-a-bar part, while the restaurant was…
well, pretty much as advertised. The grub was decent, but the place was on the opposite side of town from me.
I had to put in some effort to make it out here.
Generally, I didn’t find it worth the effort. But with Ulysses? Always willing.
We removed our sunglasses. I tucked mine into the neck of my jean shirt.
Ulysses put his in his jacket pocket.
“Don’t forget they’re in there. You might break them.”
“Cheap pair. Because yes, I’ve done that before.” He gestured to the sign. “That true?”
“We seat ourselves? Yep.”
He put his hand to the small of my back. “This table looks perfect.”
“Uh, sure.” Right in the middle of everything. I would’ve picked one of the back booths—more privacy. More intimacy. More chances to feel each other up. Because tonight only four other tables were occupied.
Ulysses pulled a chair out for me.
“Thank you, kind sir.” I grinned. “I don’t think anyone’s ever held a chair for me before.”
“Then you haven’t been dating the right sort of guys.” He sat next to me. “What’s good?”
I glanced around. “Their burgers aren’t bad. Not as good as Fifties’. Their onion rings are pretty good. Not as good as A&W’s, though. The pasta’s decent, although not—”
“Point made.” He laughed. “I’m here for a specific reason.”
“Uh, okay.” I opened the menu. “I’m probably going to have an order of chicken wings and an order of nachos. Want to share either or both?”
“Only if we get extra guacamole.”
“You can have mine.” I scrunched my nose. “And I’ll have extra sour cream.”
“Hey, Finn.” A smooth female voice had me looking up.
“Debra.” I grinned. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
She shrugged. “My degree in biology isn’t as useful as I’d thought it would be. I make decent tips here, so that’s something.”
“I promise to leave a large tip.” Ulysses cut me a glance before focusing on Debra. “I’ll have a cola.”
“I’ll take a root beer.” Some caffeine—but not too much.
“Sure. Y’all decided about food?”
“Double order of the bourbon barbecue chicken wings and a double order of the nachos—extra sour cream and extra guac.”
“You got it.” She snagged our menus and sauntered off.
Ulysses pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. “How long have you known Debra? She looks older than you.”
“Younger by three years and careful when you start commenting about women’s looks.” I glared. “She’s had a rough go of it.”
“Ah.” He gave me a sort of sheepish gaze, but his eyes danced with delight, probably at getting an unguarded comment out of me.
Then he looked at his phone again and started typing.
“Seriously? You bring me here for a date and you’re texting?” I rolled my eyes.
“You didn’t actually say how long you’ve known Debra.”
I scrunched my nose. “I think I’ve just sort of always known her. The way kids do in small towns.”
“You just reminded me that Mission City is bigger—”
“Than you think.” I chuckled. “Yeah, I get that. I—” I rubbed my forehead. “I can’t think like this.”
He placed his hand over mine. Well, the one not trying to coax a memory from the recesses of my mind. He squeezed my hand. “It’s okay. I just…want to get a sense of you.”
I squinted. “What does that have to do with how long I’ve known Debra?
Oh, she was selling Girl Guide cookies at the front door of the grocery store and Mom handed me cash.
I remember thinking this girl was kind of scrawny, but she stuck her hand out and introduced herself.
Brash as could be. Then, when I spotted her around school, she’d always wave and call my name. Like we were friends or something.”
“Or something.” Ulysses released my hand and started typing again. “So she’s a friendly sort?”
“Yes. Which will stand her in good stead in a restaurant, right? Hopefully get more tips? A shame about her biology degree.”
“Not many jobs around these days in any field.”
Slowly, I nodded. “Like, there’ll always be fires. I’m never going to be declared redundant.”
He stopped typing long enough to scratch his stubbled jaw. “And as good as AI is, they’re not yet able to watch a city hall meeting and write an article. Or interview people. Although—” Another scratch.
I so wanted to be the one doing the scratching. All that prickly stubble under my fingers… “Although?”
“Well, I suppose I could feed the interview into the AI and ask it to summarize and write an article.”
“Would you ever do that?”
“Hell fucking no.”
“Right. So there are still things AI won’t be—“ I cut myself off. “Seriously?” I gestured to where he continued to type. “Worst date ever.”
“I have to go to the bathroom. When I come back, I’ll tell you about the worst date ever.” He rose, leaned over to peck my cheek, then sauntered off to the bathroom—phone in hand.
I watched him go. As if he knew, he jiggled his butt.
“One root beer and one cola.” Debra offered me a warm smile and her brown eyes shone. “Your date seems interesting. He new in town? I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”
I was on the verge of telling her that he was the new editor of the Gazette. But he said two reporters here would be conspicuous. Which means…
In fact, I had no idea what that meant. Still, I offered her a smile. “Yes, new in town.”
“And he’s…like you…” Here, her smile diminished just a little.
“Queer? Yeah.” Might as well just lay it on the line.
“I meant a firefighter. He seems a little old.” She bit her lip.
Nope, that wasn’t what she meant. I’d never thought her homophobic. I couldn’t tell, even now, if she was or not. “Don’t let him hear you say that.” I winked.
“Right.” Her full smile returned. “Food up soon.”
“Great. Thanks.” After she headed back to the kitchen, I took a sip of my drink. Had I made an assumption? Was she trying to tell me something? Tully’s never seemed unpleasantly redneck—but then I’d never come here on a date.
Ulysses sauntered back. He grinned as he dropped into his chair. “I’m thirsty.”
“Okay.” I took another sip of my drink. Something was up…I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
“This is actually a fairly big property.” Ulysses glanced around.
“You mean the restaurant? I suppose.”