Page 78 of Jonesing for a Spy

“I kind of got busy doing what I was supposed to do and didn’t realize until recently it’s not at all what I want to be doing.”

“What do you want to do?” She rubs a foot up and down my calf.

“Drink coffee with you. Go to museums with you. Sit at the beach with you. Fuck you. Eat you. Cook for you. Experience a Jones’ Halloween with you.”

“You might not like me enough for all that togetherness. I’m… a lot.”

“Good.”

She cranes her neck to find my eyes. “Good?”

“Yeah. I’m not looking for easy. I’m looking for right.”

She faces away from me and asks the room, “And you think I’m right?”

“For me? Absolutely. I know it in my bones.”

Using a toe, she shuts off the water. “You know it in your bones after three weeks, when you’ve been gone for two?”

“I do.” Sucking in a huge lungful of air, I ask the question that terrifies me. “Don’t you?”

She doesn’t answer my question. She gives no clue how she’s leaning. Instead, she offers two words.

“I’m late.”

33

tussle and echo

Strider

I’d be lying to say ice didn’t rush through my veins at her words. Adrenaline or something like it streams where my blood should be. I must tense, because she does too.

One second passes, followed by another and another.

I feel no fear, no worry, no anything other than resolve. I already knew the direction my life was heading, but this is fuel on the fire to make it happen sooner.

I slide my fingers to lace with hers and pull them to my lips. After kissing her knuckles, I wrap her up with our joined hands. “How are you doing with it?”

“You’re not panicked?” Her voice is higher pitched than usual.

“No.”

“Did you plan this?”

I don’t like her tone or the accusation it brings. And my first reaction is sarcasm. “You mean, did I decide to potentially hurt someone hours away from me? And hurt myself in the process?”

Her back stiffens. “And how in the world would this hurt you?”

“Baby.” I kiss the point of her shoulder. “Let’s back up. I want to know how you are with all this.”

“Panicked. Freaked. Scared. A whole wealth of emotions. And you’re hurt?”

“No. No. No. I never want to hurt you. To have you scared and alone—I won’t have it. That’s what I meant. As for me, I can’t imagine knowing I have a son or daughter and not being right there to watch them grow up, screw up, to guide him or her. It would kill me to not be a part. That’s me hurting myself in this process. And I don’t want that either.”

Her tense body relaxes.

I squeeze the fingers of our joined hands. “Is that why you’ve been in your head and so watchful?”