Bloodline (Sue Thomas FBEye)

Bloodline - Chapter Seven

"Luv, we need to stop spending our weekends in the bullpen."

After Tara refused to let him sleep one more night on her couch, Bobby had looked forward to having breakfast with her this morning, but instead of a nice Saturday morning brunch, she'd dragged him to work.

She looked and sounded much perkier than she had all week.

"The Saturday preceding Thanksgiving, the Community Centre organises a fun afternoon for needy families. There are all sorts of games and music and food, and my neighbour asked if I could take her son. She works every weekend and leaves him in the care of his elderly grandfather who can't drive, and... Anyway, I thought if I could get that search out of the way, you and I... I mean... I don't want to force you or anything..."

This was a side of Tara he didn't know, but that he already loved.

"How old is the little ankle-biter?"

"Joel is four, and he's a little rambunctious."

"I like rambunctious, luv." He swept her off her feet. "That's my middle name."

Her gleeful laughter reverberated in the empty hallway of the Hoover Building. "Why do I have no trouble believing that?"

God's willing, he'd love for her to give him a few rambunctious ankle-biters, but for a change, he'd also like to do things by the book. First, meet her parents. Second, marry her. Third...

"Did I tell you how much I love you?"

"With the fever, I may have forgotten."

That cheesy smile of hers was too much to resist. He didn't care how many cameras caught them in the heat of passion. Since rumours were already circulating about them, he might as well set the record straight. Her lips were tantalising and her soft curves moulded perfectly against his chest.

"We'll be fired," she murmured into the kiss.

Set on fire might be more precise, and this wasn't the place to jump directly to number three when he hadn't crossed one and two off his list of things to accomplish.

"If I have to choose between you and my job, there won't be any contest, luv. Now, let's get back to snooping. We don't want to be late taking little Joel to the party."

With Elvis music playing in the background, she entered into cyberspace while he followed a lead from Jack into the jewellery store's owner.

Footsteps in the hallway warned them of an upcoming visitor. "Company's coming, luv."

Moments later, Randy Pitts entered the bullpen. "If it isn't agent Manning and Williams?"

"Hello, Randy. What are you doing here?" Tara's merry greeting was enough to melt any snowman, except maybe for the gruff kind.

"Your taste in music is deplorable, agent Williams, but considering you took sick days off this week, I suppose it's admirable of you to work while the rest of us isn't here so we don't catch your nasty bug."

Pitts has never stuck Bobby to be the type of employee who worked unpaid overtime.

"If that's a social call, you knocked on the wrong house."

"I was finishing some claims when I noticed a disturbing trend."

No doubt rejecting them all. "We have our own problems here, mate. We're not interested in yours."

"I haven't received a shred of paperwork from your team in two weeks, Manning." His face swelled up like a red balloon. "If that's a new game you're playing with the intention of burying me with claims on Christmas Eve, you may want to reconsider, or I can assure you I won't look at them until Easter. Good day."