Page 24 of The Map Home
While Evie tallied his order, Tad’s attention drifted behind her to the kitchen, where one of the cooks had started tossing a pizza skin into the air. Tad knew “skin” was the correct term because he’d done a story on the origin of Italian food in North America when he was in college.
Pizza toppings were about the only things he and Dakota disagreed over. Tad had researched the origins of the righteously hated (as it should be) or inexplicably revered (Dakota loved it, which Tad could not comprehend) Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza. He’d learned the pizza hadn’t been developedby an Italian or a Hawaiian at all, but instead by a Greek emigrant who’d lived in Ontario, Canada. Weird.
“Okay,” Evie said, smiling. “Give us twelve minutes. Would you like a water or something else to drink while you wait?”
They both said no and moved to sit at one of the tables covered with a red-and-white checkered cloth. Over their heads hung a variety of dusty Chianti bottles, all wrapped artistically in straw, along with salamis of all sizes tied up with twine, like calves at the rodeo. Tad was fairly sure they’d been hanging there since 1973.
They sat quietly, soft classical music and the conversations of other patrons enveloping them. Among other things, quiet was one of the things Tad loved about Dakota. He could be at ease with him. There was no need to pointless conversation, Tad could just sit and be. His constantly swirling brain, overflowing with ideas for stories for his blog and plans on how to break into the news business, relaxed when Dakota was around.
He had nothing to prove to Dakota and that in itself was amazing. Well, he amended, except for the fact that Dakota refused to take the next step past friendship. He was nearly one hundred percent sure Dakota had romantic feelings for him, but he refused to act on them. What was he scared of?
“What are you thinking about over there?” Dakota asked, breaking the silence.
Caught off guard, Tadalmostsaid, “You,” but with a cough and an embarrassing half-choke on his own spit instead, he managed, “Santa Claus.” He was rewarded with a skeptical glance that said Dakota didn’t believe him at all.
“Tad, pizzas are ready.”
Saved by dinner. Tad stood up too quickly and almost knocked his chair over.For fuck’s sake already. Red-faced, he stepped to the register and pulled out his wallet to pay for dinner before Dakota could do or say anything.
Snatching up the hot boxes, Tad turned back around and faced his—faced Dakota. “Ready?”
“Yep. I’ll buy next time.”
After demolishing almostall of both pizzas and a couple cans of beer, he and Dakota sacked out on the couch in front of the TV with more beer, because why not. Tad took up one end, Dakota the other. Tad resisted the urge to tangle their feet together, instead sitting with one leg tucked under himself. They ended up watching an episode ofOnly Murders in the Buildingbefore switching toThe Hitman’s Bodyguard. When the movie ended, Tad didn’t want Dakota to leave. Why should he leave?
He’d also had two more beers, which gave Tad the courage to bring up a worn-out argument. “You know, we could get a way nicer place if we both went in on something.”
They’d had this discussion before, but it had been a while. Dakota had some convoluted argument about friends and boundaries. Not that Tad didn’t understand or respect boundaries, but the way Dakota’d explained it made him feel like Dakota was using it to hide.
“There’s a two-bedroom for rent in the same building Curtis lives in—crap.” He sat up, looking around to make sure he knew where his phone was. “I need to check in on him tomorrow.”
“He’s still in the hospital, right?”
“Yeah, pretty sure. If not, he’s at the recovery facility. Either way, he’ll want me to check in.”
“So, what were you doing at the ball field tonight?” Dakota asked.
“Oh, right.” Tad scooted up so he could face Dakota. “I was tailingHoney Sweeting.”
“You were tailing Honey Sweeting?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
“Tad…” Dakota growled.
“Kota…” Tad snarked back.
Raising his eyebrows, Dakota dead-eyed him back. Dammit and fuck. Dakota always won staring contests between the two of them.
Tad caved.
“Curtis doesn’t trust Honey, as you already know, and he said to make sure and keep an eye on her. So, when I saw her talking to a strange guy in the alley behind Odette’s?—”
“You immediately thought to yourself, ‘That’s suspicious so I need to follow her’?”
“Pretty much. Look, I don’t mean weird like strange. I mean, she was talking to someone I didn’t know. Of course, I don’t recognize everyone in town, not by a long shot, but I at least recognize most folks. And it’s not tourist season, not really. So there aren’t a bunch of randos wandering around. And anyway, the way they were standing caught my attention—definitely secretive.”
“Maybe Honey and this guy are having an affair or something?”
