He was definitely not kidding that time.
It was a great meal, though.
Maybe not a great evening. That remained to be determined. But a great meal for sure.
They got one of the best tables in the house, right next to one of the huge windows with its calendar-perfect view of moonlit mountains and forest. They both ordered the legendary bone-in ribeye, which came perfectly prepared: medium-rare, served on cast-iron platters still sizzling with browned garlic and herb butter. Lucas had a side of roasted fingerling potatoes and grilled broccolini, charred just enough to keep its bite. Riley opted for glazed carrots and the cheddar and horseradish mashed potatoes. Because Lucas was determined that the evening be a special occasion, he ordered wine—a terrifyingly expensive Syrah from Washington’s Walla Walla Valley, its bold peppery finish pairing beautifully with the marbled richness of the meat.
The restaurant was too loud, too crowded for any kind of meaningful conversation, but really, hadn’t they already hashed out their differences? Riley had admitted he should have reminded Lucas he wanted time off around the holidays, and Lucas had explained why, even if Riley had remembered, it would have been hard for him to swing.
It was a relief to have that sorted.
That said, he was going to plan something really nice for Riley. Something original. No expense spared. Something soon. Whether Riley believed it or not, there was nothing Lucas would love more than to get away together. Spending time with Riley was his favorite thing. Why wouldn’t it be? They liked all the same stuff. Loved all the same stuff. Movies, good food, and the great outdoors: camping, hiking, fishing, boating. So maybe adeep-sea fishing trip? Or maybe something fancier? Something in California. Riley had specifically mentioned California, and Lucas was happy to meet Riley’s parents. Hewantedto meet Riley’s parents, since that was important to Riley. He’d talked to them, of course. After the accident. Let them know what had happened—much to Riley’s dismay. Reassured them that Riley was going to be fine and they didn’t need to travel all the way to Idaho—much to Riley’s relief.
So. A couple of days with the folks and then… A winery tour? Backpacking through the High Sierras? A week in bed at a fancy hotel? It would take some planning, some forethought—and how the hell did you schedule around all the unknowns his job entailed? But Riley was right. What was the use of hiring good people, putting a great team together, if he couldn’t trust them to hold the fort for a week?
So yes, he’d come up with something nice for the summer. Or maybe the fall. After tourist season was over and things quieted down.
Lucas tuned back in to hear Riley still theorizing on a possible connection between the Corbin girl’s disappearance and the Roadside Ripper. Which seemed tenuous, although now and then the theory was floated that the Ripper had not acted alone, which could certainly have expanded his—their?—hunting ground.
Lucas held up the bottle of wine in inquiry. Riley shook his head.
He appreciated good wine as much as Lucas, but he didn’t appear to be in a drinking mood. He’d had a single glass and then switched over to water.
Water?
Uncharacteristically, Lucas found himself growing restless with the shop talk, but he said patiently, “Even if you’re right,I’m not sure if there’s much to follow up on at this point. The Ripper is dead.”
“Unless the Ripper had a partner.”
“It’s a theory, yeah. Maybe you should touch base with Unit Chief Kennedy. See what he thinks.”
They grinned sardonically at each other at the idea of a lowly field agent from a remote RA in the middle of nowhere having the temerity to approach “Mr. Freeze” without waiting for an official summons.
The amber glow from the rough stone hearth flickered over the dark wood walls and snowy linen-draped tables, picked out the red glints in Riley’s hair, gave his blue eyes a glittery gemstone brightness. It was a good face. Handsome, sure, but more to the point, there was strength, intelligence, humor, kindness. A lot of character in that map of bones and planes.
If this thing between them ended, they’d still be able to work together. That was the important thing.
Except…it didn’t feel like the important thing. It felt incredibly depressing. Lucas hated that the thought had even entered his mind.
He said abruptly, “You know, you didn’t have to make it an ultimatum.”
Understandable, if Riley hadn’t had a clue what he was talking about, but his eyes met Lucas’. He gave one of those twisted little smiles and said, “I didn’t mean it to be an ultimatum. Originally. Originally, I was trying—thought I was trying—to keep it playful, light.”
Lucas opened his mouth, but he had no idea what to say to that.
Riley drawled, “But you got me riled up, Lucas.”
Kidding not kidding.
“I guess so,” Lucas said. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t exactly sure what he was apologizing for, but hewastruly sorry. These last few days had been hell.
“Me, too,” Riley said briefly.
They finished their meals, ordered coffee. Riley declined dessert, which…he loved dessert. He had a real sweet tooth.
Not in the mood, it seemed.
They chatted casually, about work again. Inevitably, it seemed. The bill came and Lucas paid it.
