There weren’t as many people as usual in the park, but that’s probably because most of them were starting to form a line across the street in front of the recreation center, where Mason assumed they were about to serve lunch. Yet, Jesse sat there alone, trembling in his thin leather jacket, watching Mason with pleading eyes whether he meant to or not.
Jesse sat up taller and brushed his shaky hands down the leg of his jeans. “Hey, umm, good morning.” He shook his head, and several dark blond strands of hair fell over his ear before he tucked it away. “Or is it afternoon?”
Another fraction of Mason’s resolve broke. He checked his watch. “It’s almost one.”
“Oh.” Jesse stood up slowly, as if he was either hurt or bone-tired. By the time he was completely upright, Mason was staring up at him.
Damn he loved a tall man. “What are you reading?” Mason smiled and pointed at the novel Jesse had shoved back in his book bag.
He frowned like he wasn’t expecting that question but answered it anyway. “It’s Doomsday Book by Connie Willis. My ummm…” Jesse swallowed hard, his eyes closing briefly before he reopened them. “My book club is reading it this month. But I uh, I’ve missed the first two discussions, so… I’m pretty sure I’m no longer in it.”
Mason didn’t mean to make Jesse feel worse, but his response only sparked his curiosity even more. He had questions. “I’ve never read it, but I do read a lot. Not as much as I would like because of work, and usually when I get home I go for a run, so really that only leaves a few minutes for—” Mason cut off his own awkward babbling, feeling his cheeks warm, and for his embarrassment, Jesse rewarded him with a warm, shy smile.
“Reading is all I can do out here.” Jesse looked around him, his smile waning fast. “I can’t use my phone or laptop, so I’m glad the club thought to use paperbacks when it was formed. We meet in cafes, drink coffee, eat pastries… the whole nine yards… like a throwback to nineties literature.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“It was… is… I mean will be again, soon.”
“Really?”
Jesse eyed him carefully, and Mason finally had to ask; he couldn’t wait another second. “What’s going on, Jesse? Why are you out here? I’m looking at you, your clothes, the way you speak to authority figures. You’re not a homeless kid, are you?”
Jesse flinched and turned away
“I don’t mean to pry. I just thought—”
“Did they send you to talk to me?” Jesse spun around, his fist clenched at his sides. “To get information on Worm?”
Mason stepped closer. “No one sent me, Jesse. And who is ‘they’? Is someone named Worm after you—is that why you’re hanging around here?”
“No one sent you?” Jesse said, a bit quieter and less hostile.
“No. I was jogging and I saw you over here, alone… I just wanted to check and see how you were doing.” Mason stood close enough that Jesse couldn’t mistake the real reason why he was there. “I wanted to ask you to lunch. Maybe we could talk.”
Jesse looked stunned enough to be knocked over with a stick. Then a haze of longing and desperation collided in his eyes. “Lunch.”
“Yes.” Mason nodded. “Just lunch. I’m not here on a covert mission to retrieve information.”
“Good,” Jesse damn near growled. “Because I’m over it. My friend messed up, not me. Somehow I’ll get enough money to get back home.”
Oh yeah. Mason had a lot of questions.
Jesse
“Would you like another plate, Jesse?” Mason asked softly, sitting across from him in the booth.
Jesse glanced up for the first time since the sweet waitress with the silver hair had placed a plate piled high with chicken and waffles in front of him. He noticed that Mason had barely consumed a quarter of his plate of smoked salmon and egg-salad baguettes before Jesse had already cleaned his plate. He was humiliated, but he’d been far too hungry to allow his pride to win. He felt like the biggest loser sitting across from Officer Ellis Mason in his clean, casual clothes and his wintery cologne that smelled of pine and freshly fallen snow. And all the heavens, that beautiful smile. That smile just made Jesse want to trust any and everything Ellis said. He hadn’t spoken much since they’d sat down and ordered—mostly because his mouth had been full—and Mason hadn’t bombarded him with questions… yet. He’d simply stayed quiet while Jesse gorged.
Did Mason really not know about that crazy-ass task force leaning on him or about his criminal friend? Because if he didn’t, he didn’t want Mason involved at all. He didn’t want to use the man more than he already felt he was. No. He wanted Mason around for an entirely different reason. Solely for him.