Stone shrugged and looked back at Chelsea. “Where my next case takes me.”
“What is that or would you have to kill me if you told me.”
A chuckle bubbled out of him. “I’m FBI, not CIA. I’m not sure which of my cases will take priority.”
“Do you always go undercover?”
He rubbed the stubble on his chin then twirled his moustache. “Mostly. I like it.”
“Because you get to be someone else?” she asked, curious. In all the time they spent together she wasn’t sure she knew what made Stone tick.
White teeth appeared below the bushy mustache. “I wouldn’t go there, Chels. We could psychoanalyze each other all night.”
Her turn to laugh. “What? You mean my never-ending quest to prove my mother wrong? She said I’d never make anything of myself.”
“You did.”
“I know.” Her words came out as a whisper.
Stone leaned forward a hand cupped behind his ear. “What?”
She thought she blushed. “You heard me.”