Page 125 of This Could Be Us

“I’llknow, Judah.” Tremaine watches me from under sleek, dark brows. “Do you doubt my detection abilities?”

Once Tremaine, based on gut alone, withdrew the boys from a school for autistic kids that later landed on the news for neglect and borderline abuse. My specialty is research and data, gathering all the facts, but I’ll defer to that famous gut instinct of hers every time when it comes to Aaron and Adam.

“Do you know where you’re going?” asks the woman at the front desk, studying us over the thin wire rims of her glasses.

I’m a lot less familiar with this campus than Tremaine, so I trust her when she reassures the receptionist we’ll be fine.

“Shit!”

The soft-voiced curse from behind us prompts Tremaine and me to turn and look at the office entrance. Soledad stands at the door, dwarfed by a covered rolling cart. She looks up, horror stamped on her flushed face.

“Sorry, Diane!” She addresses the apology to the woman at the front desk. “For the cussing, I mean. This wobbly wheel is giving me the business, and I…”

Soledad’s words die when her eyes meet mine. “Judah. Oh, hi. I didn’t know you were… Hi.”

“Hi.” I feel the laser beams of Tremaine’s eyes burning a curious hole in the side of my face. “You need some help?”

“No, I’m less of a mess than I seem to be,” she laughs. “Promise.”

She isn’t a mess at all. Today her hair is tamed into a single braid, but those defiant curls sprout at her hairline. Her black denim jumpsuit nips in at the bust, revealing her exaggerated curves from the waist down. In the fashionable jumpsuit and New Balance sneakers with green and black accents she’s pretty and pulled together, the classic suburban housewife. I can’t shake the image, though, of all that hair unbound, pushed over one shoulder so I could kiss her neck while she rode me reverse cowgirl in her she shed on my lunch break a few days ago. Finding time to see each other has been hard, and we haven’t been together nearly enough over the three weeks since I delivered that weighted blanket, signaling a new phase of whatever this is we’re doing.

“Ahem.” Tremaine clears her throat pointedly, bouncing a glance between Soledad and me. “Want to introduce us, Judah?”

“Oh, sure.” I try to keep my face neutral, but I want to grin like a kid introducing one of the important women in my life to another important woman in my life. “Tremaine, this is Soledad. Soledad, Tremaine.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” Soledad says, offering a tentative smile to my ex.

“‘Finally’?” Tremaine pounces on the slip. “You two know each other that well, huh?”

“Um… not really.” Soledad shifts her attention back to Diane. “I’m here for thebring your parent to schoolthing.”

“Oh, we know. The kids are excited.” Diane walks swiftly from behind the desk and crosses over to Soledad and her wobbly cart. “They’re already in the auditorium.”

“Auditorium?” Tremaine asks.

“There was so much interest in what Soledad does,” Diane preens, “she’s doing a special presentation for her daughter Inez’s entire grade.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Soledad demurs. “I think they just want to eat.”

Diane laughs and opens the door so Soledad can maneuver the cart back out into the hall.

“I didn’t get to fill out my guest badge,” Soledad says from just beyond the door.

“It’s fine,” Diane practically purrs. “We all know you here, Ms. Charles.”

There’s some clanking as Diane helps Soledad adjust a few things on her cart out in the hall.

“Wanna tell me about Ms. Charles?” Tremaine asks with low-voiced curiosity.

“Not particularly, no,” I say, looking straight ahead and not meeting the rabid questions I know are in those eyes.

“Well, you will,” she says. “As soon as we’re done.”

We’re not “done” for another hour because Adam’s class has a lot more questions about my job than I anticipated. I let it slip that I’ve worked with the FBI on several cases, and all of a sudden, I was fascinating. It’s worth the hour or two away from the office to see Adam beaming and laughing with his classmates, relishing the new respect in their eyes when they hear I’ve helped put criminals behind bars. Socialization is still really challenging for him, but he tries hard. Social stories and groups have helped him a lot, but he’d still prefer home with Aaron and me over any social setting outside our home. But hell, so would I.

“Thank you so much for doing this, Mr. Cross,” Adam’s teacher Ms. Bettes says when we’re done. “I didn’t know how fascinating accounting could be.”

Her light touch on my sweater sleeve draws Tremaine’s eyes and lifted brows. Is this teacher… flirting with me? Couldn’t be, but I’m usually oblivious to stuff like that. Tremaine jokes that she had to knock me over the head with a statistics textbook to get my attention.

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