“Nine, at least until next month.” Cam ruffled his hair, more gray mixed in with the brown. “See it too, old man.”
Nic shot him a one-eyed death glare. “Watch it, Boston.”
“Silver foxes are hot.”
Nic tried to topple him forward again, but Cam clambered off him, slapping his hip. “All right, Counselor. Sleep.”
Nic heaved to his feet, then bent, collecting the bowls Cam had set aside. “Let me help wash these. Won’t have to do it in the morning.”
Half asleep, Nic didn’t think to clean himself first or to react to the domesticity of his own words, but Cam’s insides blazed, stoked by the simple gestures. He didn’t expect to have Nic here again so soon, and he wasn’t going to pressure him into staying permanently if that wasn’t what Nic wanted. Now, though, Cam had unexpectedly gotten what he wanted, at least temporarily. He only regretted that it had come by way of suspicious circumstances.
Picking up their T-shirts, Cam wiped himself down and followed Nic, stopping at the end of the granite-topped bar separating the kitchen and dining area. Nic stood in front of the corner sink, cleaning himself off with a hand towel. Cam admired the long, lean lines of the former soldier and the exquisite tattoo that spanned his back. Five months and Cam still didn’t have an answer as to who GS might be either.
“You’re staring,” Nic mumbled, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. Or just a halfway decent pair of ears. He tossed the rag out the garage door to where the washer and dryer were and gave his ass a shake.
Cam’s dick roused. “Don’t tempt.”
He shook his ass again, and Cam was halfway across the kitchen, dick leading the charge, when “Sweet Caroline” blared from his phone in the adjacent office.
That was the ringtone he’d assigned his family members back in Boston. He should hurry to answer it, before the call rolled to voicemail, but he was rooted to the spot, cinder blocks for feet. Why were they calling him in the middle of the night? Had something happened to one of his brothers? Keith was home on leave so less likely him. Bobby or Quinn? Or their wives or kids? His parents? Cam’s stomach sank. Nothing good came from calls at this hour. He knew that well enough after ten years as an agent.
The ringer cut off abruptly. Maybe just a butt dial then. He blew out the breath he’d been holding.
Then sucked in another when Neil Diamond started crooning again.
Nic appeared in front of him, all trace of sleep gone. “That’s your family’s ringtone, correct?”
Cam nodded.
“They’re three hours ahead,” Nic said. “It’s morning there.” He rubbed his hands over the goose bumps that had risen on Cam’s arms. “Don’t jump to the worst-case scenario.”
“Says the attorney.”
Nic lifted a hand, cupping his cheek. “Do you want me to answer it?”
“No,” he answered too quickly, causing Nic’s brows to snap together. That was a situation he’d explain to Nic and his family later, if and when Cam won his argument about their future. Right now, he needed to deal with the present. He covered Nic’s hand with his, lowering it. “I’ve got it but thank you.”
And I’ve got you, said Nic’s unrelenting grip.
In the office, Bobby’s face lit up the phone screen. Cam yanked the device off the dual charger where it was plugged in next to Nic’s and answered it just before it rolled over to voicemail again. “Hey, Bobby.”
“Did I wake you?” His older brother’s voice sounded rough, scraped over.
Cam’s stomach plummeted. “No, I was up. Phone was just in another room. It’s early there.”
“And late there.” Bobby cleared his throat. “Listen, need you to book a flight home. As soon as you can.”
Cam squeezed Nic’s hand harder. “Home? What’s going on?” Nic drew closer, laying a hand on his back.
“It’s Ma,” Bobby choked out.
Cam swayed into Nic’s body and would have dropped the phone if Nic hadn’t covered his hand, helping hold it to his ear. “What happened?” Cam managed.
“I can’t . . . Cam . . .”
Bobby’s voice broke, and all Cam could do was shout “Bobby!” into the line, desperate to know more yet cut off while there was muffled shuffling on the other end of the line. “Somebody tell me what’s going on!”
Nic’s hand on his back circled his waist, pulling him back against his chest. “Give ’em a second, Boston.” He was clearly close enough to hear what was going on and no doubt close enough to feel the shaking that had started in Cam’s knees.
