“I see that,” Dalton said softly. Should he go around for a hug or lean over the reception desk and give Tierney a quick peck on the cheek? Or possibly just a handshake, because now the man was shifting his weight. “I’m glad.”
“Here to see Ian,” Tierney blurted.
Ian? Dalton’s heart stuttered, but his work persona kicked in, saving him from doing anything ridiculous like asking, “You aren’t here to see me?” Instead he pasted on that professional smile he was so adept at and said, “I hope you had a pleasant vacation.”
Now Tierney’s eyes locked on his, the corner of his mouth turning down. But he pretended along with Dalton. “Very relaxing. Hardly made it out of my bathrobe. I know Ian’s busy.” His gaze flickered away again. “I followed Sam in.”
Dalton had reached for his phone before the man had finished. “I’ll tell him you’re here, I’m sure he’ll want to see you right a—”
“Don’t worry, I’ll wait.” Tierney turned to the chairs available for guests, sitting and picking up a golf magazine. He hates golf.
Dazed and confused, Dalton dropped into his own seat, recovering quickly when it tried to roll away from his butt. Forcing it into behaving, even as he forced his emotions to get with the program. It didn’t matter that Tierney came in here and acted as if they were mere acquaintances, rather than people who’d shared intimacies, with promises of more. Here and now, he had a job to do, and damned if he’d ever again let a man turn him into an emotional, ranting shrew. Been there, done that. And he hadn’t wasted any money on the fucking T-shirt.
God, what if Andy was right and Tierney was too damaged to fix? Looking at him, though, he seemed okay. Nervous, yes, but calm enough to sit there, leafing through his reading material with focus. Not trying to talk his way into Ian’s office or having a meltdown. Or sharing anything personal with his friend. The guy he claimed to be attracted to.
Maybe he was fixed and that meant he was no longer interested in Dalton?
Or he was more attracted to Ian.
Andy came out of her office on the other side of the reception area, saving Dalton from having to think about it any further at the moment. She couldn’t help but pass in front of Tierney, and God forbid she should simply keep going, maybe with a nod or a “hello.” No, she had to stop, inspect Tierney like a germ under a microscope, and say, “I see you’re back.”
Tierney glanced up. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He lowered his gaze, but he wasn’t reading about golf any more now than he had been before.
Andy stood there a second, probably teetering in indecision—did she harass him, or let things lie?—but finally she moved on toward Dalton’s desk, catching his eye when he didn’t look away fast enough. She made all kinds of weird movements with her facial muscles which possibly meant “What’s going on?” or “Did you notice that? He’s different.”
Dalton shrugged and began typing nonsense on his computer. Fortunately she stopped in front of his station, where she couldn’t see the screen. “Is Ian free? I need to talk to him about something with the eastern counties’ rural protection districts. Actually, is his calendar clear for lunch?”
“Sorry. He’s got a meeting.” Ker-thunk? his heart asked. But it suddenly seemed like the perfect solution.
Andy squinted at him, and Dalton imagined his spinal column turning into steel before she could interrogate him more.
“And who’s this meeting with?”
“Mr. Terrebonne.” Sam would kill him, but it had to be done. The sooner Ian saw him, the sooner Tierney would be out of here. Dalton’s peace of mind required it.
He flicked a glance at Tierney, and yes, the man had frozen in place, fingers holding one half-translucent page of the magazine. Then he shook his head, as if trying to knock something loose. “Um, please call me Tierney.” He looked up and met Dalton’s gaze. “Thanks.”
Dalton tilted his chin, then turned away and hit the intercom button just as Andrea lost her dumbstruck expression and opened her mouth. He beat her to the punch. “Ian? Your lunch meeting is waiting.” Please don’t let them be in the middle of something.
“What?” Lovely. The sound of both of them gasping for breath came over the speaker loud and clear. “What meeting? I have a meeting? I was going to ta—”
“I’m sorry, I must have forgotten to tell you I scheduled it. It won’t happen again.” As if he ever forgot. Please.
“Oh. Uh, no problem. I just need a minute to, um . . . who’s this meeting with?”
Dalton leaned closer to his phone. “Tierney Terrebonne.”
His first morning back, Tierney’d gotten up bright and early and headed for the Interagency Disaster Relief Coordination Department to pop his homecoming cherry. When he’d walked into the Bureau of Health building and seen Sam already there in front of him, he’d almost turned around. He didn’t have an issue with Sam, exactly. It was more like he had an issue with having to face anyone who’d known him before. Especially anyone he’d been a dick to.
Which meant pretty much everyone.
Go me.
He dropped the dumb golf magazine on the table and gave up trying to appear calm, resting his forehead in his hands before peeking through his fingers at Dalton. Should he thank him for making up that meeting, and for chasing Andrea off? What should he say at all?
Should he apologize for asking if Dalton was into him? The dude was watching him. At least, Tierney thought so. He caught flashes of blue eyes under very long, dark lashes, and then Dalton lifted his head and looked directly at him.
Tierney flinched and dropped his hand, accidentally meeting Dalton’s gaze.
They both jerked their heads away.
“It should only be another minute or two.” Dalton’s voice almost sounded jittery, but that had to be Tierney’s imagination. He glanced back toward the reception desk, using his own lashes to hide his eyes. The dude wasn’t watching him anymore, he was staring straight ahead at his computer, but not typing or anything. His mouth had turned down, and his face had gone pink.
“Um, thanks. For setting up that meeting for me.”
Dalton nodded, still looking straight ahead. “I thought he’d want to see you. Since you’ve been gone.”
“Yeah.” Tierney snorted. “I’m sure he wants to know where I disappeared to.”
Dalton turned to him, and Tierney met his gaze on purpose this time. He tried to smile.