get away with that claim without checking it out himself. The big wet spot in my pants confirmed my confession.
He grinned wolfishly. He’d never admit it, but the thought that I got off just from getting him off made him feel like quite the stud. Which he was.
I grinned back. Nothing made me happier than making him happy. Maybe that made me codependent or too needy, or maybe that was what love was supposed to be about. I didn’t care.
“So,” he said, “since we can’t talk about my case, tell me what you were working on today.”
Another opportunity to fill him in on what was happening with Brent. Maybe I’d take it. But first, the more entertaining story.
“You’re not doing this,” Tony said, stone-faced. We’d moved over to the couch where we cuddled while I told him about the harrowing events of my day. “It’s too dangerous.”
“It’s hardly bungee jumping,” I assured him. “I’m just going to ask a few questions.”
Tony released me from his embrace and pushed me forward, forcing me to look in his eyes. “Listen, Kevvy. You may have noticed you have a habit of putting yourself into the line of fire. This is the kind of thing that needs to be investigated by professionals. Not you and your loony mother.”
This was what I was afraid of. The ironic thing was, I hadn’t even mentioned Brent Havens yet. Tony was objecting to my mom’s plan to visit Families by Design, the adoption agency used by the Merrs.
“Tony, we’re just going to see if they cut corners or suggest anything illegal in their admissions process. At worst, they’re an unethical business. It wouldn’t make them Murder Incorporated.”
“You think they might be implicated in child abuse, Kevvy. That’s a crime. You need to report it and let the police do our job.”
“There’s nothing to report, Tony. That’s why we’re going.”
Tony’s sigh was heavy enough to rustle the drapes. “Is it ever possible to talk you out of anything? ”
“It’s not me you’d have to convince,” I said. “It’s my mother. In which case, no.”
“You know what your problem is?” he asked me.
Why is it that the very protectiveness I love about Tony when he applies it to others pisses me off when he pulls it on me?
“No,” I said. “Enlighten me.”
“That you’re a grown man who’s still caught up worrying about what mommy will think. Do you see me crying because my mom’s PO’ed at me? If she can’t accept my divorce, that’s on her, not me.
“Trust me: You need to cut the umbilical cord, babe.”
“She’s not just my ‘mommy.’ She’s also my boss. I kind of have to care what she thinks, Tone. It’s not the umbilical cord pulling me into this, it’s the paycheck.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. But you have to find a balance. Or maybe move on. It might not be the healthiest thing for you to be working for your mother.”
“No kidding.” I left unsaid the logical question: Would he rather I return to my previous job? That would only escalate the fight.
So, I realized, would bringing up my poking into Brent Haven’s disappearance.
For a guy who didn’t sit around talking about “feelings,” Tony was as sensitive a man as there ever was. It was part of what made him such a great cop-he could read people as well as anyone I’d met. He sensed the rising tension in the room and decided to defuse it.
“Listen, do what you have to do, babe. Just be careful.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Tony punched my arm. “Don’t push it. I suppose I’d be more worried if I thought your mother’s plan was actually going to work. Let me get this straight-she really thinks she looks like she’s in her forties? And that you and she could pass as a couple?”
I nodded against his strong chest.
“That is so wrong on so many levels.” He sighed again.
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
“Poor baby.” He stroked my head, playing with my bangs. “Pretending to be a couple when you’re not is always a bad idea. But pretending to be a couple with your own son? ” He gave a mock shudder. “Ugh.”
“Can we talk about something else?” I asked.
He glanced at the cable box. “Actually, I’d like to watch the local news. See if they say anything about the case I’m working on.”
I nestled deeper into his arms. “If I can stay here, you can watch anything you want.”
He kissed the top of my head while turning on the TV.
While the overly cheery newsreaders chirped away, I couldn’t stop my mind from going places I’d really prefer it didn’t.
Tony was right-there was nothing admirable about lying about being a couple when you weren’t one.
So, how did he justify the reverse?
He still hadn’t told anyone in his life that we were together. Wasn’t that even worse?
I knew if I confronted him on it, there’d be another fight. In fact, whether it was Brent or Tony’s reluctance to be open about us, I felt like half the things I wanted to talk about with him would lead to an explosion.
When did all these land mines get buried between us?
And if his earlier assertion was true-that he really didn’t feel the need to justify his divorce to his mother and that it was on her to get over it-why was he taking her and not me to his awards dinner?
Which brought me back to the first question.
“Hey.” Tony interrupted my brooding. “You know that guy?” he asked teasingly.
I looked at the TV. There was my boyfriend on the screen, working the crime scene in background footage while the reporter stood in front discussing the latest developments in the case.
“Kind of,” I answered.
Tony gave me a little shove. “Always with the joke,” he chided playfully. “You know, some people would be proud to see their man on TV.”
Who’s joking? I wanted to say. But I didn’t.
I really didn’t want to step on any land mines tonight.
18
“So, let him take some dirty pictures,” an annoyed Freddy said. “Who cares? It’s not like you haven’t peddled your papayas before.”
“Don’t pay him any attention,” his part-time boyfriend, Cody, chimed in. “I think it’s great you have standards. Well, that you have standards now. You tell that gross old man to keep his money-you have morals.”
It was like having a devil and an angel sitting across from me in the greasy downtown diner where we’d met for breakfast. Tony had to leave early to meet with the coroner, and when I called Freddy, Cody had been sleeping over. “We’ll both meet you,” he said cheerily, seeing no need to check first with his evening’s company. Which wasn’t wrong-Freddy was Cody’s First Big Gay Crush, and he’d have followed Freddy anywhere.
Not that he had any reason to be so clingy. Cody was absolutely adorable, with a young, fresh-scrubbed innocence that was no act. You wanted to grab him by his oversized ears and kiss the down-home country right out of him.
“First of all,” I clarified to them both, “I wouldn’t be letting Mason film me for the money. I don’t need the money.”
“I’ll take the money,” Freddy said, raising his hand.
“Then let him take pictures of your wiener,” I suggested. “The only reason I’m even considering it is because
