He wondered cynically if the Hyatt rented rooms for the afternoon, since that’s what she was intimating. “That sounds interesting. Can I call you?”
“Absolutely. Use my cell. I’d really like that.”
He rose, then walked around the table to help her out of her chair. They stood in the middle of the busy restaurant, simply looking at each other. Slowly, Dix lowered his head and kissed her. He felt no pleasure as she slid her tongue over his lower lip, only determination.
CHAPTER 35
SAN FRANCISCO
Monday night
Ruth lay on her back, gulping in air, hoping her heart wouldn’t burst right out of her chest. She was sweaty, she was grinning like a loon, and she felt incredible.
She laughed at the wonder she felt. “My, I do think you gave your all, Dix.”
Dix wondered how she could even string words together, amusing words, at that. His all? That was the truth, he was nearly dead.
He managed a grunt. “Maybe you were closing in on yours as well.”
“I did try my pitiful best. You know, when I compare you to all the others, I have to say you’re flying really high, right up there near the top.”
He didn’t know where his laughter came from after everything that happened that day, but it burst out of his mouth. He hugged her to him, kissed her ear. “Do you know this is the same bed I slept in Friday night? It feels much better with you in it. The Sherlocks are good people, letting all of us invade them after they just got rid of me two days ago.”
“Do you think we were quiet enough?” Ruth whispered against his ear as her palm flattened over his belly.
“Since I put my hand over your mouth, I don’t think anyone heard us. Stop moving your fingers, Ruth, I’m nearly dead here. Wait, my heart just kicked back in, I can feel it, thank God. Do you want me to rise up and fly high again?”
Ruth grinned in the soft dim light thrown off by the lamp on the bedside table. “I remember how dear Lance could rise up and fly, anywhere at all, even in the shower. Goodness, now that I think about it, Lance could even sing.”
“How old was Lance?”
“I do believe he turned eighteen during our acquaintance. I thought about giving him a car for a graduation present, but he was such a rowdy lad he might have gotten hauled in by the cops for speeding, so I decided on a watch instead.”
“That means I’m going to have to lock Rob up in about a year and a half. No girl in Maestro will be safe.”
“Oh dear, Rob and Rafe are nearly that age—that certainly changes one’s perspective on things. Now that I think about it, Lance was twenty-one, maybe even twenty-two. Maybe it was a graduation present from college.”
Even as he grinned, realizing how really good he felt at this moment, reality climbed up on his chest and stared him in the eye.
“Stop it, Dix, come back here. Life is always out there, but neither of us have to face it every moment. Come back.” She took his hand, brought it down to his chest, and pressed her hand down over his. “It’s the strangest thing,” she said. “I can feel your heart through your hand.
“Another strange thing,” she continued. “Every day of the week you get up in the morning, chow down your peanut butter toast, navigate to the Hoover building hoping you won’t kill any of the idiots on the Beltway, and you arrive at your job, which is to hunt down murderers and various other sorts of psychopaths. Everything’s all nice and normal and expected, and then something weird happens, something that knocks you off your pins, something like this deal we’re in right now, and suddenly we’re not in Kansas anymore.
“But you know something? No matter what smacks me in the head, I know I won’t have to deal with it by myself any longer. You’ll always be there for me. It makes the world exceedingly nice, Dix.”
He came up onto his side, leaned over her, and riffled his fingers through her dark hair, all wild about her head, a beautiful contrast to her white skin, and those dark eyes that seemed to see all the way to his soul.
She touched her fingers to his cheek and heaved out a soft sigh. “I love you.”
She loved him? This incredible woman actually loved him? “You’ve never said that before,” he said.
“Now was the time,” she said simply. He was basking in what she’d said when she added, “On the other hand, I also love football, and thank the good Lord there’s only four more months to wait.”
He turned his hand palm up and twined his fingers with hers. “Now you’re doing your Ruth thing—mixing the utterly serious with a joke. What would you think,” he went on as he leaned up to nuzzle her jaw, “of getting married before football season starts? That way we’ll have a good week for me to fly high and sing arias to you in the shower before we’re yelling our heads off in front of the tube for the Redskins. And you know what would be really good about that?”