Page 9 of Unexpected Redemption

“What were the three things?”

His throat bobs with a swallow, the movement capturing my attention.Mmm. I love his neck. If I wasn’t so comfy on my back with a full belly, I’d move up there and lick it. But that will have to wait because I’m in a chicken cheesy casserole coma—the four Cs.Heh heh.

Some of the happiness leaches from his expression. Just a tad. “First thing I need is Lenkov dead or in prison for life.”

“Fair. And the second?”

“Fix things with your father. I’d like to talk to him without this mafia shit hanging over our heads. The last few dayshave been awkward. We’re able to work together, but it’s... different.”

His pain, where Big Al is concerned, is palpable, making my breath catch.

“There’s all this unresolved shit. We need to hash it out. I’m ready to get it over with. I’ve been carrying it around for so fucking long. It’s out there but unfinished. There’s just no fucking time right now.”

“Be patient, babe. He’s barely spoken to me, except for a wave when he sees me down the hall or a muttered greeting in passing. I get that you have a longer-standing relationship with him, and you’re anxious to repair it; however, I doubt he’s in the state of mind to deal with emotional shit right now. This doesn’t feel like the right time. Life has a way of working on its own schedule, though.”

“At least I’m not fired yet.”

“No black eyes either. So you’ve got that going for you.”

He runs the pads of his thumb over my cheek and jaw, then along the bottom of my lip. The tender adoration of his touch fills my heart and steadies all my thoughts.

“Do you think I have autism?” he asks out of nowhere.

And I meancompletelyout of nowhere.

There was nothing at all to signal this conversation shift.No blinker. No traffic light. No airport guy with the orange flashlight cone things.

My eyes do that cartoon thing where they stretch a foot away from my face, then snap back in place while a horn goesah-oo-ga.

His laugh tells me my mental image of the cartoon eye jump isn’t entirely off base. “Sorry. I know that was random.”

“Ya think?” Chuckling, I blink a few times and try to steady my thoughts. “Let’s see. Do I think you have autism? Honest answer?”

He nods, eyes drawing in tight. “Of course.”

“Possibly,” I draw out the word, then bite my lip, hoping I wasn’t too blunt.

His face remains impassive, showing no sign of offense or disappointment in my answer. No happiness about it either.

My body craves more of a physical connection for this discussion. Rolling over, I angle myself toward him and wrap an arm around his side, reaching to his back. Since I still have my head in his lap, that puts my face very close to his crotch, but I have no objections. I’m quite comfortable here.

I give his waist a squeeze. “Where is this coming from?”

Looking blankly across the room, he stays silent for a beat. “You met Sue the other day at the office, right?”

“Yeah. Leo’s wife.”

He nods, still staring straight ahead. “She has autism. And last week, Leo said that I shared some of her traits.” His head slopes to one side. “He didn’t mean it in a bad way. But it got me thinking. Maybe he’s right.”

“And if he is?”

He brings his eyes back into focus and glances down at me. “I have no idea. Would it bother you?”

My belly jostles with a deep laugh. “Me? Bother me?No. What a hypocrite that would make me and my squirrel brain. I’d never judge you for something like that.”

The wrinkles around his mouth deepen as he works his tongue behind his closed lips. “Good.”

“If you’re curious, they have tests for autism. It could be something you ask about when you see the therapist.” I shrug up one shoulder and hit him with a saccharine smile. If I knew how to make doe-eyes, I’d do that too.

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