His lips parted, and I waited to hear what he had to say. But he didn’t speak, at first.
“I don’t want to talk about it here,” he said. “Not at work, and not around a bunch of locals.”
Giovanni leaned forward. “When do you finish work today?”
“Five.”
“Why don’t you come to our house after you get off? We can have a few drinks, and you and Georgiana can?—”
“I don’t drink. But yeah, I can do that.” Bear hesitated, his gaze darting between us, a mix of fear, shame, and something that looked almost like relief. “What I tell you, it stays between us, right?”
“As long as there isn’t a reason for it not to stay between us,” I said.
He nodded once and stood, returning to the kitchen without another word.
“I wonder what he’ll say when we see him this evening,” Giovanni said.
“Me too.”
I glanced outside as the wind began pushing against the windows, rattling the glass as if something old and buried was waking up. Whatever it was, I was ready for it to make its way to the surface.
18
Bear arrived at our house just past five, as the last of the daylight faded into a pale blue wash behind the pines. Luka barked once, offering a deep, territorial warning, until I cracked the door open. The moment Bear stepped into view, Luka’s growl dissolved into an eager wiggle, as if Bear were an old friend.
“Well, that’s a good sign,” Giovanni murmured behind me.
Bear stood on the porch with his hands shoved into the pockets of his black shorts, which seemed an odd clothing choice given it was winter. For such a large man, he seemed unsure how to position himself as he shifted his weight every few seconds.
“Thanks for having me over,” he said, “and for not pressing me to talk at the diner with all our customers around.”
“You bet,” I said. “Come on in.”
He stepped into the foyer, pulling a knit beanie off his head and smoothing his hair with a palm as if trying to make himself presentable. He stood in polite discomfort, like a gentle giant who had crashed a tea party.
Giovanni gestured toward the den. “We’ve been relaxing in here tonight. Make yourself comfortable.”
Bear ducked through the doorway and paused, taking in the room. A fire crackled in the fireplace, giving the space a cozy glow. On the coffee table was a cheese platter with crackers, olives, and a bowl of mixed nuts, sitting beside my glass of champagne and Giovanni’s whisky.
Bear remained standing until Giovanni motioned toward the sofa.
“Please,” Giovanni said, “sit.”
Bear eased down.
The sofa creaked under his weight, though it held.
“You all right?” Giovanni asked.
Bear attempted a nod, but his twitching hands betrayed him.
“I don’t want to intrude,” he said. “And I don’t want any trouble.”
“You’re not intruding,” I said. “And you’re not in trouble.”
Luka wandered over, sniffed Bear’s boot, then pressed his head against Bear’s thigh with a soft grunt. Bear froze, then let out a deep breath.
“Huh,” he said. “Guess he likes me.”
