Chapter Eight
"Well, we're coming down to the bottom of the ninth, mister."
Grace held Rigsby's hand as they walked aimlessly through a small park near her apartment. On weekends, she often came to this place with a book, unfurled a blanket and read for hours. There were lots of trees, lots of birds, she could get lost in her latest choice of chick lit or military history and just let the world roll by. Plus, it was one of the few places she could find where men wouldn't approach her. Every other park gave her this problem. She'd sit with her book and send out Do Not Disturb vibes, only to have some jogger or guy walking his dog see her, take her solitude as a sign, and shamelessly start flirting with her. She felt bad shutting them down. They were probably nice guys trying to meet a nice girl, but the park was supposed to be her time. No job, no boss, no irritating thoughts about a tall co-worker with a sweet smile, just her. This park, for whatever reason, gave it to her. But today was dazzlingly different. Today, she used her park to unwind in a different way.
Well, sort of.
Rigsby had taught her in the last two and a half days that there was no such thing as too much sex. He made her want it every second of the day and night. And, to her infinite satisfaction, he was not only eager but able to provide it. She had never, ever known any man with his stamina. From a biological standpoint, it was most impressive. From a crazy-in-love-want-to-touch-him-all-the-time standpoint, it was most convenient. However, it was most inconvenient when they had something serious to talk about. Something decidedly unsexy and best discussed while clothed. In public. With children nearby. And cops. God knows they needed as many disincentives as possible to keep it in their pants since public indecency hadn't stopped them before. Hence her suggestion for a walk in the park. She needed a clear head.
She looked over at him now as they strolled along. He wore a faded blue tee shirt and his dark jeans again. God, he was beautiful. She could let herself think it openly now. Wayne Rigsby, her boyfriend, was beautiful. It shocked her, how good that felt. He looked over at her now and raised a brow in amusement.
"I love when you talk in sports metaphors. It's so hot." He grinned as his hand slid from hers and snaked around her waist, pulling her into his side as the walked. She rested her head against his upper arm, gazing up at the treetops and sighing happily.
"I'll make of note of that for later. Right now, we need to decide what we're going to do tomorrow morning." She tried to sound firm and in control, not dreamy and lazily content. "Do we tell Lisbon?"
Rigsby inhaled slowly. "I dunno, sweetheart, I really don't. I have no interest in lying to her, that's for sure. And Jane will know anyway. God knows what he'll say. But…" He stopped himself.
She looked up at him. "But what?"
He chewed his lip in frustration. Grace ached to reach up kiss the worry right out of him. But that would lead to bad places, so she waited for his answer instead.
"It's just…" Rigsby stopped walking and turned into her, pulling her into a gentle hug. She wrapped her arms around him and cuddled close. "….It's just that I want to tell people, Grace. I'm really fighting here. I know she might make one of us leave. I know she might choose you since you're the rookie. I know us being together will cloud my judgment at work, but dammit…" His hands slid up and cradled her head against him. "…I want everyone to know that you're mine."
She chuckled against his chest. "Yours, huh? What am I, a classic car you wanna show off to all your buddies?" She looked up at him playfully. "You're not the boss of me, mister."
He smiled gently, wisely, as he continued to cup her head in his hands. "I think we've established that you are clearly the boss of me." His smile grew bigger with each word. Grace couldn't help her blush. He was doing it again, giving himself to her without a single hesitation. It made her dizzy. She hugged him tighter, loving how her arms barely fit around his ribcage.
He continued. "I know what I want, babe, and I know what I fear. I also know that I'm so hopelessly wrapped up in you that I can't make a rational decision. So I'm gonna be a total wuss, here. Tell me what you wanna do, and we'll do it."
Grace moaned in frustration and buried her face in his chest again. "Sure, leave it all up to me. Big baby."
She felt his chuckle against her cheek. She wanted to be annoyed, but just couldn't shake the adoration she felt as she held him in her arms. So she feigned annoyance and huffed loudly.
"Fine. I say…" She flipped wildly through the craziest scenarios she could think of, just to punish him for putting the ball so unceremoniously in her court. "…I say we ask Jane what to do."
So there! What do you make of that little doozy?
Grace smirked with good-natured smugness.
She waited for his reaction as she listened to his heartbeat under her ear. She expected him to laugh his ass off at such a silly idea. Involving Jane in anything private was suicide. And Rigsby was right, he would probably know instantly and taunt them horribly until he grew bored with them and moved onto a new game…like telling Lisbon. So, not telling him and praying for a miraculous lapse in his observational skills was the best they could hope for. Obviously a loose canon without a ball is no threat. But loaded? A loose canon got its own metaphor for a reason. Best not give Jane any ammunition.
But Rigsby just had to be full of surprises.
"That's not a bad idea, actually."
Grace snorted. "You're right. It's not a bad idea. It's a totally made-up, funny ha-ha, stupid, joking faux idea that I threw out for comedic value. We're not telling Jane."
Rigsby pulled out of their hug and pulled her by her hands to a nearby bench. Once both seated, he turned towards her, his eyes bright with excitement. Next to his tee shirt, they looked even bluer than usual. "But think about it! Jane will know. He's deduced much more from total strangers. How long do you think we can hide from him?"
Grace looked down and gave a defeated shrug.
Rigsby nodded. "Exactly. What, 20 seconds? Maybe 25? I'm being generous here. So why not just go to him? Instead of him teasing us for being so furtive and embarrassed, let's use him. Find out what he thinks we should do about Lisbon. What do you think?"
Grace worked the scenario through her mind more carefully. Oooookay, so maybe it wasn't such a crazy notion. It was true, they'd never be able to hide from Jane. And maybe if they enlisted his abilities for good instead of puckish evil, they could actually swing Lisbon in their favor. Maybe she'd let them date on the quiet, as long as they promised to stay professional during work hours. Yeah, okay. Maybe this could work. She looked up and gave Rigsby a measured smile.
"I think it might actually work. He'll know what we should say to her, better than we do, anyway. I think we should talk to Jane first thing tomorrow morning. Agreed?"
Rigsby nodded vigorously. "Definitely." He let out a relieved breath. "Great, we have a plan. Score one us. Now," He swooped in and pressed his forehead against hers. "What else do you normally do on a Sunday?"
She nuzzled her nose against his and giggled. "Oh, all kinds of fascinating things."
"Oooooh, do tell." His grin matched hers.
"Well first, I get groceries for the week. How's that for exciting?"
He cupped her cheeks. "My heart's aflutter. What else?"
"Then, I do laundry. Are you sure can take the exhilaration here?"
"I paid for the whole seat, but I'm only using the edge."
She turned her face against his and kissed him quickly. "And finally, if I'm not too exhausted from all those thrills, I come to this park and read."
Rigsby smiled sincerely. "Aw, that's cute. My little bookworm." He gave her his own kiss. A slower, more thorough kiss.
"Well?" she asked against his lips. "You gonna tell me what you do on a Sunday?"
He answered her between the presses of his lips on hers.
"I…"
kiss
"…sit in my apartment…"
kiss
…watching football…
kiss
"…and dreaming of you."