ceiling—which was leaking. Fat drops of rain plunked steadily into a large
metal pail in the center of the room. The mezzanine balcony was built to look like the
hull of a ship, complete with small cannons. Shane found it all amusing, but this was the
place where he’d first met Norton, so his fond memories were more of the company than
the food and drink.
As though the thought had conjured him, a tall figure in a black parka appeared in
the doorway.
Shane’s heart sped up as Linus shoved back his hood, glanced casually around the
mostly empty restaurant, and spotted Shane.
Linus nodded. Shane nodded back.
He knew Linus was going to walk over to his table and ask to join him. He wasn’t
sure how he felt about that. He was in the mood for company, and Linus was better than
nothing.
Who was he kidding? He wanted Linus to come over and sit down every bit as much
as he didn’t want him to come over and sit down. It wasn’t logical, but it was the truth.
His skirmishes with Linus made him feel awake and alert in a way he hadn’t felt in a long
time.
Linus nodded to the bartender, who greeted him by name, and sure enough, Linus
walked down the aisle to Shane’s table. “Okay if I join you?”
What really decided Shane was that he could see Linus expected him to say no.
Linus was smiling, but it was a neutral sort of smile. His gaze was cool and steady. When
Shane declined, he would move to the next table, sit down, and pick up a menu, unfazed.
Linus had already worked it out, and recognizing this, Shane realized something else.
Linus had come looking for him.
He felt a funny little flutter in his chest, like a sea anemone had flexed and unfurled
in his rib cage. An emotion both exotic and probably poisonous.
Shane smiled. “Sure.”
Linus blinked and then shrugged off his jacket and slid into the booth. He had shaved
and changed into an oatmeal-colored Aran-knit sweater. He wore that expensive cologne
which mixed nicely with the rain and ocean.
Now past the initial shock, Shane was curious about Linus. Who was this guy who
had managed to fool him so completely?
Or was that the real question? Maybe the real question was why had Shane been so
attracted in the first place to someone who…well, first of all, was a fake. But more to the
point, wasn’t the kind of guy Shane would ordinarily have gone for. The loud shirts and
the love beads? Was that the attraction? That Norton had been the antithesis of Shane’s
usual type? Not that Shane necessarily had a type—beyond immediately available. Or
had part of the attraction been the fact that Shane sensed there was more to Norton than
appeared on the surface?
If so, it was kind of funny that what he had sensed was a personality only too similar
to his own.
The waiter brought Linus his drink—he was enough of a regular to have a “usual”—
a Rusty Nail. Which was what he’d drank when Shane knew him, so that at least was the
real Linus. Good to know.
Linus held out his glass. “Cheers.”
Shane clinked his glass against Linus’s. “Happy days.” He sipped. Crème de cacao,
Kahlúa, vodka, cream, and maybe a hint of banana? It was more like a dessert than a
cocktail.
“I’m surprised you’re not spending the holidays with your family,” Linus said.
Meeting Shane’s look, he shrugged. “You talked about your family a lot that spring.”
“I did?”
“The Doctors Without Borders sister, the Navy SEAL brother, your mother’s work
with Scholarship America. You were obviously close to your family. In fact, that
closeness, and your family’s dedication to public service, was one of the first clues that
you probably weren’t a thief.”
“I’m touched,” Shane said dryly. “So what about you? You have family?”
“Yes. We’re not close.” Linus added, “We’re not not close. I saw them for
Thanksgiving. That’s enough for one year—for all of us.”
“Do you still work for Metropolitan Mutual?”
metal pail in the center of the room. The mezzanine balcony was built to look like the
hull of a ship, complete with small cannons. Shane found it all amusing, but this was the
place where he’d first met Norton, so his fond memories were more of the company than
the food and drink.
As though the thought had conjured him, a tall figure in a black parka appeared in
the doorway.
Shane’s heart sped up as Linus shoved back his hood, glanced casually around the
mostly empty restaurant, and spotted Shane.
Linus nodded. Shane nodded back.
He knew Linus was going to walk over to his table and ask to join him. He wasn’t
sure how he felt about that. He was in the mood for company, and Linus was better than
nothing.
Who was he kidding? He wanted Linus to come over and sit down every bit as much
as he didn’t want him to come over and sit down. It wasn’t logical, but it was the truth.
His skirmishes with Linus made him feel awake and alert in a way he hadn’t felt in a long
time.
Linus nodded to the bartender, who greeted him by name, and sure enough, Linus
walked down the aisle to Shane’s table. “Okay if I join you?”
What really decided Shane was that he could see Linus expected him to say no.
Linus was smiling, but it was a neutral sort of smile. His gaze was cool and steady. When
Shane declined, he would move to the next table, sit down, and pick up a menu, unfazed.
Linus had already worked it out, and recognizing this, Shane realized something else.
Linus had come looking for him.
He felt a funny little flutter in his chest, like a sea anemone had flexed and unfurled
in his rib cage. An emotion both exotic and probably poisonous.
Shane smiled. “Sure.”
Linus blinked and then shrugged off his jacket and slid into the booth. He had shaved
and changed into an oatmeal-colored Aran-knit sweater. He wore that expensive cologne
which mixed nicely with the rain and ocean.
Now past the initial shock, Shane was curious about Linus. Who was this guy who
had managed to fool him so completely?
Or was that the real question? Maybe the real question was why had Shane been so
attracted in the first place to someone who…well, first of all, was a fake. But more to the
point, wasn’t the kind of guy Shane would ordinarily have gone for. The loud shirts and
the love beads? Was that the attraction? That Norton had been the antithesis of Shane’s
usual type? Not that Shane necessarily had a type—beyond immediately available. Or
had part of the attraction been the fact that Shane sensed there was more to Norton than
appeared on the surface?
If so, it was kind of funny that what he had sensed was a personality only too similar
to his own.
The waiter brought Linus his drink—he was enough of a regular to have a “usual”—
a Rusty Nail. Which was what he’d drank when Shane knew him, so that at least was the
real Linus. Good to know.
Linus held out his glass. “Cheers.”
Shane clinked his glass against Linus’s. “Happy days.” He sipped. Crème de cacao,
Kahlúa, vodka, cream, and maybe a hint of banana? It was more like a dessert than a
cocktail.
“I’m surprised you’re not spending the holidays with your family,” Linus said.
Meeting Shane’s look, he shrugged. “You talked about your family a lot that spring.”
“I did?”
“The Doctors Without Borders sister, the Navy SEAL brother, your mother’s work
with Scholarship America. You were obviously close to your family. In fact, that
closeness, and your family’s dedication to public service, was one of the first clues that
you probably weren’t a thief.”
“I’m touched,” Shane said dryly. “So what about you? You have family?”
“Yes. We’re not close.” Linus added, “We’re not not close. I saw them for
Thanksgiving. That’s enough for one year—for all of us.”
“Do you still work for Metropolitan Mutual?”
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