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“Like I was trying to say”—I give an exasperated sigh and gesture toward the old man—“Celine, this is my friend Tom who I’ve known for a long time.” Looking at Tom I gesture toward Celine. “Tom, this is Celine, my friend who I want to be my girlfriend, but she won’t admit it, so I just say friend.” She shoots me a look as per usual, but I pretend not to see it.

“So nice to meet you, Tom.” Celine extends a hand and he shakes it in a gnarled, wrinkle ridden one in response.

“Wow, very soft skin. What’s your secret at our age?” Tom asks and I snicker.

Celine glances at me in confusion and I lean over to whisper in her ear. “His hearing and eyesight are shit. We met way back in the day and he doesn’t know what I really am. He’s assuming we’re all about the same age.” I wink when I pull back and she nods.

“Lots of lotion?” she replies hesitantly, and it comes out as a question.

“Make yourselves useful and help me out with these.” Tom gestures toward his task he paused when we sat down, and we get to work rolling silverware.

“So, Miss Francine, how did you meet Zac here?” Tom asks.

“He’s my neighbor.”

“Your what?” Tom asks again.

“We're neighbors, old fart!” I enunciate. Celine swats at me when I call him the name, but I don’t dish what he can’t take or return to me tenfold.

“You’re going to get rid of the remaining hearing I do have, bastard.” Tom’s chuckle is in complete contrast to his gruff statement. We bust each other's balls but it’s just our love language. “Now what did she say?”

“Celine said we met because we’re neighbors,” I inform him, crisply folding the napkin I’m working on. “We had a chance run in in the hallway and the rest is history. Now she can’t get enough of me. What can I say, I’m a stud.” Puffing out my chest I risk at glance at Celine to see her sporting a wry grin.

“Sure, let’s say that,” she giggles softly, and I’m a goner.

I must look like a lovesick fool because the next thing I know I pull my gaze away from her and see Tom watching me. A fondness fills his squinty, time worn blue eyes, and they dart back and forth between her and I. He nods to himself and continues about his business.

“Tom met his late wife because she was the daughter of the mob boss that had been threatening their family restaurant. The sly dog made a pass at her, and I guess she responded well seeing as they got married and had kids,” I tell Celine.

“Really? That’s so romantic,” she sighs dreamily, and looks at Tom for more information.

His tired eyes melt with love that still remains strong. “Betsy Jo was the love of my life. We both knew it and even though our situation wasn’t ideal we didn’t waste any time in being witheach other.” His thick gray eyebrows knit as he loses himself in memory. “Life is too short to not spend every minute letting your person know you love them. It doesn’t have to be some grand gesture every time. It could be leaving flowers on the table, sending a quick message, or cleaning up after each other without saying a word.” He brushes some lint off his pants. “You never know when your last I love you is, so sprinkle them around like confetti.” He reaches over and pats Celine, then me, on the arm.

“Wow, Tom, that’s actually pretty insightful. Who knew you had it in you?” I try to lighten the mood when I can tell he starts missing his wife. “But thanks for the great advice.”

“Sometimes I spread wisdom.” Tom goes to stand, and I wince when more bones crack than I can count. “This old man needs a rest. Finish this up for me, would you? Lovely to meet you, Francine.” He shuffles along until one of his grandkids rushes over and helps him up to the stairs to the attached apartment.

“Celine,” I mouth to her, but she simply shakes her head at me.

Both of us do as we’re told and finish up what Tom started with the silverware. I notice Celine being more contemplative after what he said. I can’t help but wonder if she’s applying it to us and our situation.

I haven’t told her we’re mates yet, but should probably do it sooner rather than later.

I want to get started on our forever.

CHAPTER 29

CELINE

The shuffle of papers, low murmurs, and footsteps echoing through the precinct are music to my ears. It feels so nice to be back at work. I’ve never been the type to sit back and mope at home but the break-in rattled me more than I would like to admit.

Zavier wasn’t happy about it when I told him I was headed back to work this morning. The mopey pout he sported, and koala hug he latched onto me with were pitiful. At least he has Midnight to keep him company, plus he’s a grown ass adult ... vampire ... man thing, so he’ll be fine.

I still haven’t fully wrapped my head around the fact Zavier is a vampire. You hear about vampires in myth and lore and think it’s exactly that.

A story.

Not real.