Page 2 of I’ll Be Watching You

And yet, I had a gray bundle of energy with cute white paws.

Cal ladled on the sauce, then joined me at the table, putting the plates down with a flourish. He was wearing an apron he must have brought with him, because I’d never seen it before. It was all black with a couple of cooking utensils crossed like swords and the words: Cal. The Man. The Myth. The Grillmaster.

“I like the apron,” I said. “Next time, maybe you should wear the apron and nothing else.”

“Maybe I will,” he teased as he untied it and draped it over the back of his chair.

He took my hand and kissed it.

“Open it,” he said with a nod to the present as he sat down.

“Shouldn’t I wait until after dinner?”

“Nope.” His grin was shy, almost boyish. “I’m not that patient.”

I laughed and unwrapped the box. Tito grabbed the ribbon with his sharp little claws and it fell to the floor. Tito followed.

Inside was a challenge coin. One side bore the DEA logo. The other had a silhouette of a woman in a low-brimmed hat, a gun holstered at her hip, binoculars in hand. Angelhart Investigations curved around the edge.

Challenge coins were big in the military and law enforcement, but they’d crept out into the civilian world. They meant a lot of things, but usually symbolized unity or recognition of exceptional performance, or marked a special event or mission.

I was speechless—and that wasn’t easy to do.

“Is it okay?” Cal asked, sounding unsure.

“Are you kidding? It’s amazing.” I leaned over and kissed him. “You had this made?”

He nodded. “A friend of mine designs coins. I sketched the PI—you, of course. I mean, after two months what does one get their girlfriend?”

Girlfriend. Yeah, we were dating, but to hear it said out loud felt both amazing and a little weird.

After two months, he wanted to show we were a team.

“Two months,” I repeated.

“Today.”

I couldn’t believe he remembered the exact date. I thought back, nodded. “You’re right.”

“I always am.”

I laughed. “Ego much?”

“Two months ago today, I kissed you in this house and knew we’d make it work—no matter our crazy schedules.”

He wasn’t wrong. The more time I spent with Cal, the more I wanted to.

While we ate, Cal filled me in on his latest case: a string of tainted fentanyl deaths. Eight victims. They’d identified the dealer and raided his house, seizing the deadly batch of drugs, but the dealer wasn’t there. Cal was irritated.

“Our intel was wrong, which pisses me off. He was supposed to be there. Phoenix PD is looking for him, and there’s not many places he can hide. At least we got the tainted product off the street.”

“Mmm-hmm.” I shoveled in another bite. “This is amazing, by the way.”

“Just wait for breakfast.”

“Bedside service?” I teased, rubbing my foot up his leg.

Before he could answer, my phone rang.