Page 26 of Hush

He beamed. “Forty-six.”

“Well, you look good.”

Tom’s chest swelled. His mind burst, like an opera singer had just struck her high note, or a new year’s celebration had exploded into fireworks. Mike kept speaking, and Tom blinked, focusing back on what he said.

“No family? No grandkids?”

Snorting, Tom shook his head. “No grandkids. And no family. Never married.”Because I’m gay. Because I’m gay, I’m just like you, but I’m too scared to—

No. He couldn’t leap from his closet like that. He was going slow. Being deliberate. Being careful. Cautious.

“I think you’re one of the only single judges in the country.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly, arching his eyebrows.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Being a federal judge is very attractive, I know.” Tom held up his hands, as if telling Mike to back up or slow down. “It’s hard to beat back the admirers.”

Mike had the good sense to look bashful.

“It is lonely being a judge. I didn’t have a lot of friends before I was appointed, and now…” He blew air out of his lips and waved, waving goodbye to his social life. “It’s me and my dog and my law library.”

“You have a dog? What kind?” Mike seemed to light up, sitting forward. Dog people were easy to recognize.

“I do. A Basset Hound. Her name is Etta Mae.”

“That is a good Basset Hound name.” Mike laughed. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Do I have any pictures…” He reached for his phone, swiping on the screen. His background was Etta Mae rolling on the grass on the National Mall, the Capitol Dome in the background. He clicked into the gallery and pulled up his camera roll. Idle snapshots of weird things he saw around DC, a few pages from law books he wanted to remember for later, and then row after row of Etta Mae. He was pathetic.

He pulled up a cute one of her looking at the camera, all long ears and droopy jowls and hangdog eyes, and pushed his phone across the table.

Mike put his fist over his mouth and chuckled, deep guffaws as his eyes seemed to melt. “She’s adorable. Look at that face.”

“She’s my princess.”

“And I bet she knows it. She’s got you wrapped around her paws, doesn’t she?”

“She does.” He glanced at the time on his phone. Damn it, it was getting late. “It’s actually time for the princess’s dinner.”

Straightening, Mike nodded, leaning back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you for so long, Your Honor—”

“Please, call me Tom when we’re out of the courthouse.” Mike gave him a wry look and a raised eyebrow, as if to say, ‘yeah right, fat chance.’ He grinned anyway. “This was great. I had a great time. Thank you for dragging me out of there.”

“I had a good time, too.” Mike smiled, really smiled, not his polite smile or his working smile, but an honest smile, uneven and dimpled. “You are a really good judge. I’m proud to work with you.”

He couldn’t come up with something good to say to that, so he just slid out of the booth and buttoned his jacket. Mike had slipped his credit card to the waitress when she came to refill their drinks for the third time. They ambled toward the door, Tom ducking into the bar to catch the score for the game. The Nationals were up by three.

“Thank you again, Mike. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll duck into your courtroom. Check out this case that has you building a fort out of law books.”

That would make the day infinitely better. But he didn’t say that, didn’t tell Mike that now he’d be waiting for him, glancing at the door every five minutes, hoping to see his smile and his blue eyes. Instead, all he said was, “Goodnight.”

“Night.” Mike trotted across the street, back to the courthouse, leaving Tom at the entrance to the Metro. Just a short ride across the city, and he’d be home with Etta Mae. She was probably wondering where he was, or, more likely, wondering where her dinner was.

“Say hi to Etta Mae for me!” Mike called back from the steps of the courthouse, waving one last time before he headed inside.