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“How’d your stitches hold up?” I cast a critical eye on his wound dressing. I didn’t rush to start the show, the dual pleasure of watching Cal eat ice cream and the conversation taking priority over trashy TV.

“Fine. I only swapped the bandage because I showered before I cooked.”

“I noticed.” I meant it conversationally, but my tone came out a bit too appreciative, and Cal blushed.

“Anyway.” He studied the caramel stripe in his ice cream intently. “Guess I’ll be sticking around a bit. Between my dive suit and the replacement RV, I need all the hours Knox wants to give me. But also, that house needs seeing to.”

“And you’re the man for the job?” I couldn’t keep the skepticism out of my tone. Cal was the last person I thought would have feelings about an old, run-down house.

“All that talk about closure.” He made a clucking noise. “Not one of you thinking about the house, other than maybe Sam. And Knox said the place has been through a long list of bad news owners in the last twenty years. Not the house’s fault it got caught up in rumors and neglect.”

I had the same thought about Cal, but I knew better than to say that outright. “No, not its fault at all. About time someone treated it right.”

Cal paused exactly long enough for me to know he’d heard the unspoken message. Good. I wanted to be the one to treat him the way he deserved.

“When Knox gets around to my paperwork, I’ll work out something fair on rent, especially since it’s likely to be more than a couple of days.”

“I’m in no hurry.” That was an understatement. I wanted him to stay as long as he wanted, as long as it took for him to start healing on multiple levels. “And if you’re going to be here awhile, that’s more time for us to work on your fundraising plans. Your pay will go further if you have donations to help with the RV costs.”

“I’m in no hurry,” he echoed me with a rare chuckle, scraping up more ice cream from his bowl. “We’ve both had long days. It’ll keep.”

“Yeah, you’re not kidding on a long day.” Even with the pleasant distraction of Cal’s company, the exhaustion I’d battled all afternoon continued to loom large.

“Still battling pain?” Turning more toward me, Cal narrowed his eyes. “Or something else?”

“For someone averse to conversation, you’re remarkably perceptive.”

“It’s called listening, Professor.” He gave me a pointed look, one which made me chuckle.

“Touché.” I glanced away, reluctant to fess up. “And it’s stupid, but the task force didn’t invite Monroe or me to the press conference to announce the finding of the remains. And the official press release didn’t mention your charity or my podcast. Like I said, it’s silly. Of course the task force isn’t going to want to credit the pressure from a podcast for the recovery of remains, but…”

“You kinda wanted the credit. I feel you.” Cal duffed my shoulder lightly.

“Yeah. Guess my overinflated ego is a little bruised.” My tone was wry. I hated that I cared so much about credit. “The important thing is that answers are finally emerging for the Stapleton case, not who gets kudos.”

“As you’d tell me, you’re allowed to feel your feelings, but if you’re mad about being hurt, maybe you should put a hurt on me instead.” Cal gave a very uncharacteristic smile.

“Pardon?”

“Never mind.” His smile rapidly diminished. “That was the cheesiest come-on in the history of come-ons.”

“Wait a sec.” All my nerve endings went on red alert, the possibility of more than casual banter tantalizing. Goodbye exhaustion, hello arousal. “That was a request to play around again?”

“Uh-huh.” A flush spread up his neck. “Was thinking your ego could get some…stroking, and if you wear me the fuck out, I might have a prayer of sleeping tonight. God knows I’m tired enough.”

Oh, thank God. My patience in waiting for Cal to ask had finally paid off. “You’re on.”

Chapter Sixteen

Cal

The trek from the couch to my room had never seemed longer than when Holden shut off the TV with a decisive click and headed for the back hall.

“I better shut down my computer too.” Wheeling ahead of me, he quickly darted into his office, pocketing something as he returned to the hallway.

“Tell me what you’d like for this time.” He paused at the door to my room so I could enter first. “Whatever you want is fine by me.”

“I’m not used to ordering kink off the menu.” I busied myself in retrieving my gear from the bag in the closet, tossing the rope and connectors onto the bed. My neck muscles tugged, and my back itched. The only thing worse than never getting what I wanted was being offered exactly what I needed. “Feels…indulgent.”

“Well, get used to it.” Holden smiled, waiting patiently in his chair by the side of the bed. “I want to indulge you.”

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