Nic lowered his foot and flopped back on the bed, eyes slipping shut.“I owed him that one.”
“Half naked?”
“I showed him the cypress tattoo.I owed him that much too.”
“You don’t owe him your career.”
Nic opened his eyes, and the sun streaming through the sheer curtains turned his blue irises icy clear, stark against the bloodshot whites.
Captivated by the oddly beautiful and equally concerning sight, Cam almost missed Nic’s reply, a heavily sighed, “I agree.”
“You agree?”Cam stepped to the side of the bed and fisted his hand, resisting the urge to run his fingers through Nic’s brown and silver strands.“Then why are you down here?”
“Because he was going after Lette no matter what you or I said.”He squinted against the sun’s rays, forehead creasing.“I had to stall him.”
Cam’s chest ached, the need to comfort the man he loved warring with his anger and confusion.The former won, Cam’s fingers smoothing over the deep groove between Nic’s brows.“Is he gonna bolt on us now?”
“No, he knows the jig is up.”Nic lifted an arm and grasped his wrist, drawing his hand into his and winding their fingers together.“And that you’re our best shot for getting Lette back.”
“You couldn’t convince him of that back home?”
He guided the back of Cam’s hand to his forehead, pressing it there like a balm, like it was somehow soothing.“He showed up five minutes after you left, along with a text from Victoria begging me to keep him safe.He was going with or without me.”
Cam shifted closer, blocking the sun’s rays.“Why didn’t you call or text me?”
“From in the car next to him?”Nic lowered their clasped hands to over his chest, holding them there.“I could have tried, but I also knew you were in the middle of planning the op.I didn’t want to compromise Lette’s rescue further.I knew you weren’t far behind us.You’d find me.You always do.”
“What if you couldn’t have stalled him?”
“I at least had to try, for Lette’s sake.I won’t add her initials to my back too.I won’t let her be a regret for some action I failed to take.Or some mess I made.”He tugged Cam down, to the edge of the bed next to his hip.“The only way we’re going to save Lette is to let you do your job, and I do mine, but I had to get Garrett to stand down first or at least get him out of the line of fire.”
“You’re wrong.”
The crease between Nic’s brows reappeared and Cam lifted his other hand, soothing it once more.“You didn’t fail to take action the first time.”He coasted his hand down, cupping Nic’s rough cheek.“You didn’t make a mess.”
“Garrett said the same thing before I showed him the tattoo.”
Cam wondered what else Garrett had said then or when they were dancing.Doubts resurfaced like a sledgehammer, smashing the quiet moment.“Nic, he’s your first love, if you?—”
Nic rocketed up, clasped hands between them, free hand snaking around the side of Cam’s neck.“I’m not in love with him anymore.I’m in love with you.”
Proving his point, Nic captured his lips in a hard kiss that was the opposite of last night’s soft, sweet assurances.This was an argument, plain and simple, and the familiarity of the approach, the bedrock of their interactions, comforted Cam more than words.But not enough to snuff out every wisp of doubt.
“But your family...”he whispered against Nic’s lips.
Drawing back, Nic slid his hand to the side of Cam’s face.“Got bigger.But you, Cameron...”His thumb brushed over his cheek, then his lips, and Cam’s eyes fluttered closed.“You’re the center of my family.Of my world.The one I’ve chosen and built for myself.”
God, they were all the words Cam needed to hear, evidenced by the rough sincerity in Nic’s voice and his tender touch.Cam moved to lean into it, to chase after everything he wanted, and nearly fell over when Nic shifted farther back.Only Nic’s hand still clasped in his kept Cam from face-planting into the mattress.
He scowled at a chuckling Nic, who untangled their hands in order to finish lifting his hip so he could pull his wallet out of his back pocket.Nic withdrew a folded piece of yellow legal paper and handed it to Cam.It had been carried around for some time judging by the worn creases.
Cam unfolded it to find a drawing, clearly in Nic’s hand.Cam was familiar with it, having seen Nic’s sketch of the FBI Stout label, which this drawing resembled.Except where the label had had Gravity’s falling apricot logo for a cloverleaf, this one had a Red Sox styled B.
Boston.
For him.
Heart hammering, Cam traced over it with his thumb, only looking up when Nic took hold of his other hand and placed it over his left hip.
