Zane suspected Ty had gone to Burns to opt out of the odd jobs, but hed never asked and never planned to. He still held his breath whenever Tys phone rang, day or night. Zane closed his eyes and rested his chin on Tys shoulder. He brushed his lips against the warm skin of Tys neck, and it made him think of the compass rose pendant hidden away at his apartment in the drawer with his T-shirts. He still hadnt found the right time to give it to Ty.
Ty reached his arm behind him to settle his hand on Zanes hip. “I dont understand,” Ty said to McCoy in a troubled voice. “No, Im not being intentionally dense! I just dont get why it has to be us!”
Zane moved one palm over Tys stomach and started to rub gently, trying to soothe him. After all, it was partly his fault Ty was so keyed up.
Ty turned, pursing his lips into a shushing gesture to tell Zane to be quiet, and then hit the speaker button. Their boss voice came out of the speaker and Dan McCoy was audibly annoyed. “…because this is supposed to be good PR, and we need to send agents that people will like.”
Zane frowned and mouthed the word “like” to Ty with a questioning look.
Ty was silent for a moment, staring at the phone. “And were the best you got?” he asked, deadpan.
McCoy laughed. “People do like you, Ty. Youre a funny guy. And you know how the ladies like Garrett.”
Zane opened his mouth to object, but Tys hand covered it before he got a sound of protest out.
“Granted,” Ty drew out, meeting Zanes eyes and smirking. “If we do this, what do we get out of it?”
“You get to keep your jobs, you worthless hack,” McCoy answered without any real heat in it.
Tys face was nearly expressionless as he held the phone up between them. “Yeah okay.” Zane shook his head, giving Ty an obstinate look. He still didnt know what the hell this was all about, but he had the prickly feeling he wouldnt like it.
Ty turned away from him so he couldnt object again. “Look,” McCoy said, “Garrett gives a great lecture on cyber and criminal connections. Ive heard it and didnt even feel the need to shoot myself or him. With all the Internet crime lately, its a popular topic. And you have enough of a sense of humor to talk about undercover investigations without getting morbid or scary. I know its short notice, but theres going to be a whole series of these things—”
“A whole series?” Ty broke in, his voice going higher in distress. “Do you remember how many times youve said Im bad for PR?” McCoy sighed in disgust.
“Thirty-seven times, Mac.”
“Youve counted?” McCoy asked without sounding surprised.
“Latent OCD,” Ty answered, unashamed. Zane pressed his mouth to the back of Tys shoulder to stifle the laugh that threatened. “All right, look, here it is straight. Youre both personable and competent, but the real kicker is that youre both pretty, and bottom line, its better to have eye candy in the newspaper than some nondescript drone. Be there at eight, best suit you own. And call Garrett and fill him in for me, will you?”
Ty grunted in outrage, but the phone lit up in his hand, and he pulled it away to look at it. Zane could see the display informing him the call had been ended.
“„Pretty,” Zane said flatly. It was funny—usually—when Ty teased him about being pretty, but this was too much. “When the hell did we become fashion plates?”
“Eight a.m. on a Saturday, Zane,” Ty said through gritted teeth.
“ This Saturday? As in tomorrow Saturday? We have to give lectures in twelve hours? Were not prepared for that! I cant just pull a cybercrimes lecture out of my ass!” He could, but it was the principle of the thing.
Ty nodded and dropped the phone to the couch. He looked Zane up and down and narrowed his eyes, a slow smile forming. “But were still in for the night,” he pointed out.
Zane let the momentary annoyance fade into the background. They could bitch about work later. “Sure you still want dessert before dinner?”
“Youre not dessert, Zane. Youre the main course,” Ty informed him in a husky drawl. “And you have about five seconds to take your pick of flat surface before I do it for you.”
O NE thing about working for the FBI was that sometimes time passed and Ty thought it might be going in reverse. Other stretches Ty didnt even notice until months had gone by. He and Zane did their jobs, whether that included the god-awful boring paperwork and research Zane seemed to enjoy or the actual tracking and chasing of criminals that was more to Tys taste. Unfortunately, working for the FBI consisted of 5 percent chasing and tracking, 90 percent paperwork, and 5 percent getting your ass handed to you by your superior, a reporter, a nurse who insisted youd tear your stitches, or your mother.
Ty would much rather run down a guy and tackle him into the Inner Harbor than have to sit and fill out forms.
Hed ruined that suit, but it had been a hell of a good day. Tys evenings had gone one of four ways through January and into mid-February: most often theyd be out working, which meant no time with Zane away from work. Otherwise Ty was going to softball practice and then home late to Zane, or suffering through another freaking PR presentation. And then home late. To Zane. Ty still wasnt too sure how he felt about all the extra responsibilities that were taking up his free time, so he mostly tried not to think about it and just go with the flow.
Time passed almost unnoticed when it had so much structure to it, so when Ty went to meet his partner for a late Friday night dinner after a particularly harrowing lecture to a group of high school kids whod only wanted to know if he was single or if hed ever killed anyone, he hadnt expected the chaotic mess hed found. Hed arrived at one of their favorite restaurants to find Zane waiting for him in the parking lot.
The lot was full to the brim and overflowing into the lot of the bank next door. A crowd of people waited outside in the cold February night, some holding little buzzers to alert them when their table was ready, some clutching their coats around them and huddling with their sweethearts.
Ty hadnt even been able to find a spot to park his Bronco. Hed driven up to Zane as he sat on his motorcycle—Ty still couldnt believe he rode the damn thing in the dry winter cold—and was met with a sardonic smile. “Valentines Day” was all the explanation Ty had needed.
Both had completely forgotten about the date and the holiday weekend. Theyd just wanted a nice quiet dinner after a stressful few weeks of barely seeing each other. They were still laughing at each other when Ty let them into his row house on North Ann Street. Some romantic couple they were, forgetting about Valentines Day and being surprised by the crowd.