“I’m sorry—that was rude. My mother did raise me better. He just told me he was going to drop off the donuts and ask if you could work his shift. He didn’t mention the cop at your coffee table.” As he spoke, Eric stood back and let him haul himself into the camper, which was now bursting at the seams with good-looking men, three of whom were nicely endowed with muscles and one of whom was apparently more psychic than the stars.
“Officer Brady Carnegie, Southern California Sheriff’s Department, Station House three. Nice to meet you.” Brady turned in the bench seat and extended his hand over the back of it. Burton shook his hand firmly, and to Eric’s surprise, gave his real name.
“Major Lee Burton, Special Forces,” he said. “How’d you find us here?”
Eric saw Brady swallow and felt compelled to jump in. “He was looking off of his balcony,” he said with a faint smile. “Saw our little parade last night. Wanted to know where all the cars disappeared to.”
Burtonhumphed. “We were that obvious?”
Brady shrugged. “Only because I’d just had dinner at Sonny and Ace’s.”
Burton’s speculation turned inward. “Alarms, Club Boy?”
“We’re breachable,” Ernie replied, frowning. “But I don’t know if we have time before the storm.”
The look Burton sent his boyfriend was not happy. “Great.”
Ernie shook his head. “They’d be useful,” he admitted, “but we’ll survive without them.”
Burton grimaced. “Medina, Daniels, and Briggs are on special assignment—they’re usually my go-tos for this sort of thing. It’s going to have to be me and Jason, and that’s only if nothing else shows up.”
“No promises,” Ernie said soberly, and Burton nodded once.
“God, I would love some specifics,” he muttered, then turned to Eric and Brady. “Remember this place is safe. Keep it safe. Christiansen, Jai moves out in twenty minutes. Carnegie—”
“I’ll be gone before you leave,” he said respectfully.
“I appreciate it.” Burton sighed and looked them both over. “But you’re welcome to use the pool tonight and tomorrow morning. Jason wanted to make sure everybody got lots of laps so he and Cotton could have it over the weekend.”
“I don’t think I’ll be—” Brady began.
“Pick me up from the service station,” Eric heard himself saying. “Company would be nice.”
Now Brady was the one who appeared hunted. Which was fine, Eric decided grumpily. Because Brady got his favorite donuts today, and Eric felt like he was due.
JAI DROVEhim to the garage, and something about the other man’s demeanor made Eric feel as though his life wasn’t in imminent danger being in the vehicle.
“You got big plans for the weekend?” Eric asked, curious.
“Da,” the giant said, his mouth relaxing. It wasn’t a smile, which was good, because Eric had seen one of those in the last week, and it had been terrifying. “We are going hiking in the mountains.”
“In the beginning of March?” Eric asked, alarmed. “It’scoldup there!”
“Da. We will leave in the morning, stay in a hotel in the evening, return the next morning. Warm clothes, good shoes, stick to trails.” One massive shoulder lifted. “Little George, he likes to talk very much. I do not. Up there, the air is too thin for him to talk too much, and I am too happy not to be glad to hear his voice.”
Eric frowned. “That doesn’t sound very healthy. You don’t like—”
Jai grunted. “I like everything about him. Even how much he talks. I make small joke, and you turn into Dr. Phil. Who is an idiot. I had thought better.”
Eric rubbed at his temples. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. I… I don’t know everybody yet. I don’t get all the in-jokes.”
And another grunt—this one thoughtful. “When we started, it was Ace and Sonny and Alba, who is now at college. Ace’s friend from the military dropped by. Burton was good guy, but lonely. We grew. It is now a community. I forget, yes? Ace and Sonny and Alba know my moods. Ernie and I are friends.” Jai gave him a disgusted, almost hurt look. “And now there is you. And some—” He made a sour face. “—policemanis eating at your table. Have you no sense of self-preservation?”
Eric grunted, because apparently that was the language he was speaking today, and in spite of his discomfort realized that this—thiswas what it was like to talk to a friend and equal, which he hadn’t done in quite some time. Cat and mouse games with an opponent or a lover (or sometimes both)—well, yes. You learned to do that when people were soliciting murder and you fell in with assassins.
Marking territory or learning hierarchy, like he’d done with Ace? Yes, he’d done that when he’d worked with Corduroy too—but even then, he’d been given enough autonomy to avoid emotional connections. But somebody being honest and calling you on your hypocrisy?
Not so much.
