the memory of Beecham sweeping the other agent into a kiss pricking her with insecure jealousy, Jennifer gestured between them.
“No. Definitely not.” A tiny spasm of grief contorted Falconetti’s face. “He was—”
“Hey, Leebo.” Calvert’s deep drawl cut between them and Jennifer closed her eyes for a split second. Calvert lifted his son into a hug, his face drawn and weary. “How’s my boy?”
The baby gave an excited squeal and wrapped his tiny, pudgy arms around his father’s neck. Calvert held him close, eyes shut, as though being soothed by the warm contact. After a moment, he returned the little boy to the high chair and bent to brush his mouth over Falconetti’s upturned lips. “Hey, precious. Lord, I’m glad to see you.”
Falconetti stroked his arm and slid over to make room for him. “How’s your mother?”
“She seems to be okay.” He lifted their joined hands to his mouth, feathering a kiss over her knuckles. “Still doesn’t remember anything. The doctor wanted to keep her a little while longer today; Del’s going to rent a car and bring her home.”
Bothered by the feeling she was spying on an intimate exchange, Jennifer looked away. Her gaze collided with Beecham’s and she realized he’d been with Calvert the whole time, standing behind him, watching her.
Oh God, how much of her conversation with Falconetti had he been privy to?
She lifted her chin as she eased to the inside of the booth, giving him space to sit if he chose to do so. Before last night, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Neither would he.
The imperceptible pause before he slipped in beside her spoke volumes.
She ignored the heat of him beside her, the way a lingering scent of soap and damp air clung to him. Shanna returned, bearing plates and fawning a little over Calvert, asking after his mother before taking his and Beecham’s orders, coming back with fresh coffee for both men.
Jennifer focused her attention on Calvert. “So you didn’t learn anything?”
“No.” He tapped his thumb and forefinger on the tabletop in a jittery rhythm. “I’m hoping you and Beech will be able to get somewhere with Chason today. But considering how his recent actions don’t make sense…I’m not really hopeful.”
Lifting his coffee cup, Beecham gave an affirmative grunt of agreement. Shanna returned with plates and the men ate, although Calvert did more picking at his food than consuming.
Finally, Calvert rotated his wrist to check his watch. He blew out a long breath, as if in dread of some unsavory task. “I need to go make a couple of phone calls.”
Falconetti nudged him. “We’ll walk out with you. I need to get going as well.” While Calvert extricated their son from the high chair and wiped the baby’s face, Falconetti enfolded Beecham in a quick embrace. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“Pretty sure he’s going to be around for a while, Cait.” Calvert tugged his wallet from his pocket with his free hand. Juggling Lee and the billfold, he pulled a twenty free and tucked it beneath his empty coffee cup.
When they were gone, Jennifer waited to see how quickly Beecham would move to the opposite side of the booth. To her surprise, he remained next to her, spinning his half-empty mug in a slow circle. Silence hovered over them, broken only by Shanna’s arrival to take Falconetti and Calvert’s ticket with the twenty and refill coffee cups before whisking away the empty plates.
After a long sip, he continued to rotate the cup in that slow, maddening revolution until Jennifer, nerves already stretched and jangling, wanted to scream at him to stop. “Do you still intend to ask Weston to assign you a new partner?”
She rubbed damp palms over her knees. “Do you want me to?”
He turned a fierce stare on her, his eyes blazing. “What do you think?”
“I think I don’t get you.”
He glared at his coffee. “What does that mean?”
“It means I thought I knew you.” Sadness left
“No. Definitely not.” A tiny spasm of grief contorted Falconetti’s face. “He was—”
“Hey, Leebo.” Calvert’s deep drawl cut between them and Jennifer closed her eyes for a split second. Calvert lifted his son into a hug, his face drawn and weary. “How’s my boy?”
The baby gave an excited squeal and wrapped his tiny, pudgy arms around his father’s neck. Calvert held him close, eyes shut, as though being soothed by the warm contact. After a moment, he returned the little boy to the high chair and bent to brush his mouth over Falconetti’s upturned lips. “Hey, precious. Lord, I’m glad to see you.”
Falconetti stroked his arm and slid over to make room for him. “How’s your mother?”
“She seems to be okay.” He lifted their joined hands to his mouth, feathering a kiss over her knuckles. “Still doesn’t remember anything. The doctor wanted to keep her a little while longer today; Del’s going to rent a car and bring her home.”
Bothered by the feeling she was spying on an intimate exchange, Jennifer looked away. Her gaze collided with Beecham’s and she realized he’d been with Calvert the whole time, standing behind him, watching her.
Oh God, how much of her conversation with Falconetti had he been privy to?
She lifted her chin as she eased to the inside of the booth, giving him space to sit if he chose to do so. Before last night, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Neither would he.
The imperceptible pause before he slipped in beside her spoke volumes.
She ignored the heat of him beside her, the way a lingering scent of soap and damp air clung to him. Shanna returned, bearing plates and fawning a little over Calvert, asking after his mother before taking his and Beecham’s orders, coming back with fresh coffee for both men.
Jennifer focused her attention on Calvert. “So you didn’t learn anything?”
“No.” He tapped his thumb and forefinger on the tabletop in a jittery rhythm. “I’m hoping you and Beech will be able to get somewhere with Chason today. But considering how his recent actions don’t make sense…I’m not really hopeful.”
Lifting his coffee cup, Beecham gave an affirmative grunt of agreement. Shanna returned with plates and the men ate, although Calvert did more picking at his food than consuming.
Finally, Calvert rotated his wrist to check his watch. He blew out a long breath, as if in dread of some unsavory task. “I need to go make a couple of phone calls.”
Falconetti nudged him. “We’ll walk out with you. I need to get going as well.” While Calvert extricated their son from the high chair and wiped the baby’s face, Falconetti enfolded Beecham in a quick embrace. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“Pretty sure he’s going to be around for a while, Cait.” Calvert tugged his wallet from his pocket with his free hand. Juggling Lee and the billfold, he pulled a twenty free and tucked it beneath his empty coffee cup.
When they were gone, Jennifer waited to see how quickly Beecham would move to the opposite side of the booth. To her surprise, he remained next to her, spinning his half-empty mug in a slow circle. Silence hovered over them, broken only by Shanna’s arrival to take Falconetti and Calvert’s ticket with the twenty and refill coffee cups before whisking away the empty plates.
After a long sip, he continued to rotate the cup in that slow, maddening revolution until Jennifer, nerves already stretched and jangling, wanted to scream at him to stop. “Do you still intend to ask Weston to assign you a new partner?”
She rubbed damp palms over her knees. “Do you want me to?”
He turned a fierce stare on her, his eyes blazing. “What do you think?”
“I think I don’t get you.”
He glared at his coffee. “What does that mean?”
“It means I thought I knew you.” Sadness left
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