“And then some,” he said.
“Icky is another word I haven’t used in a while,” Dan said, pulling out his phone.
“Are you making notes on words you want to use but are too stupid to remember?” JD asked.
“I am,” Deputy Dan said, not at all insulted.
Blue left them arguing and headed down past the bathrooms to the rear exit with her plate of food. She stepped outside and headed to the area where staff had set up a table.
The air was cooling, and it felt good on her face. She sat down, picked up a chicken stick, and crunched. It tasted far better than it should.
Around her, Lyntacky settled into the rhythm of shutting down for the night. People would clean up after meals, while others were bathing kids. Some were sitting in their favorite chairs, getting ready to watch their favorite shows.
Mundane. Normal. For so long, she’d fought against that, but now…
“What do you want, Blue?”
As no answer came back to her, she picked up another chicken stick and bit into it.
“Hey.”
Just one word, but she knew who that voice belonged to.
“Hi, Jay.” She watched his long legs eat up the short distance between them.
Expression unreadable, he took the seat across the table from her and then snatched a fry off her plate. “How are you, Blue?”
“Doing okay, thanks, Jay. You?”
He studied her for long seconds before speaking. “You look tired. I thought that in the Swing Through the other day.”
“Gee, thanks, just what a woman wants to hear. And so do you, by the way.” His face looked weary and his eyes a little squinty.
“Work.” He sighed out the word. “And I should have said beautiful and tired.”
“Better. Here work or out there work?” She swept her hand in an arc.
“Out there work.” He took a chicken stick this time, and she did the same.
They could do this. Just sit and talk. The sex thing had been good, but they’d been friends—kinda—first, before that.
“Do you work in national security, Jay?”
He studied her again as his white front teeth bit into the deep-fried goodness. “Some, but I’m not allowed to talk about it.”
“You’re not in control of the Doomsday Clock, are you?”
He smiled. “No, I’m not on the Science and Security Board, Blue, nor do I think the Doomsday Clock is a matter of national security.”
“Hah, shows what you know.”
He smiled again, and it was nice—more than nice. The man was hot.
“So what’s next for Blue Jay McAllister now you’ve had time to think about it? Are you going to set up in Zoe’s spare room at Angel’s?”
“I don’t think so.” But she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge it had started her thinking. “For the first time in forever, I don’t know what I want to do,” she surprised herself by saying. “I usually have a plan, but I can’t seem to form one at the moment.” Blue frowned down at the fry she held, as if it were at fault.
“Well, maybe you just need to take a break for a while, then?”
