CHAPTER FIVE
Marlon Barton
Late. For the first time in his career, Marlon was late. And for a two o’clock shift, no less. And there wasn’t even snow to blame. The April day was unusually warm and dry, and traffic was nearly nonexistent, at least for Denver.
Neither could he claim to have overslept, not at that time of day. Plus, he’d only slept three or four hours. The rest of the night, and all of the morning and early afternoon had been endless time in bed, or on the floor, or in the shower. He and Vahin had done about everything imaginable, except using his handcuffs or a baton.
Marlon could announce that having not switched positions for years, he was a bit sore and tender from the night before, and he needed to move slowly. The thought made him burst out a snort and experience a terrifying thrill all at the same time.
Truth be told, Marlon didn’t care. So what if he was late this once? He hadn’t wanted to come in at all. He’d much rather have continued lying in bed, tracing the curve of Vahin’s shoulders and ass. Feel the moments of lust-filled kisses sigh into gentle explorations of each other’s mouths that made his heart feel like… made him think that maybe… well, made him consider things he’d never considered before.
Taking a steadying breath, Marlon walked into the station. Just because he was late didn’t mean anyone would know what he’d really been doing. He wasn’t actually walking funny, or at least he didn’t think so. Giving a brief and normal—please, God, let it be normal—smile at the few people he passed, he walked to the locker room. He sped up a bit now that he was alone, rushing to the gray metal locker, then began to change.
He had his bulletproof vest nearly fastened when Greg entered the locker room. The officer had been stuffing something in his pocket but halted when he noticed Marlon.
Marlon lifted his chin. “Hey.”
Greg hesitated, then lifted his chin slightly. “Hey.” He glanced around, then turned without looking directly at Marlon again. “I, um… forgot something.”
Marlon stared after him as he left.Weird.Greg was one of the older cops on the force, one of the ones Marlon was pretty certain had an issue with minorities. He’d raised a stink when Charles Schmidt had been made chief. Greg had claimed Schmidt didn’t have enough experience but never directly said anything about the man being black, though Marlon thought it was pretty obvious. Still, Greg had kept his mouth shut about Schmidt after he got the position and had always been cordial to Marlon.
As he finished getting ready, Marlon tried to push Greg from his mind but was unable. It couldn’t mean what he feared. It couldn’t. Maybe the guy was just preoccupied or really had forgotten something. Right, because Marlon couldn’t read people instantly. Maybe his own worry was throwing him off, though, making him see things that weren’t there.
“’Bout time you show up.”
Pulled out of his thought, Marlon flinched at the voice. Shit, when had he gotten so jumpy?
“Didn’t mean to scare you, pretty boy.” Andrew crossed the room and held out a Styrofoam cup of coffee. “Saw you come in. Figured you must’ve had a late night and might need this. Don’t want my partner falling asleep and accidentally driving us off an overpass.”
Marlon took the drink like it was a bomb. Andrew had never brought him a coffee or said anything that might accidentally be construed as friendly or helpful during their months together. “Um, thanks. Sorry I’m late. I just—”
“Nope.” Andrew cut him off, which was good, as Marlon hadn’t been sure how he was going to finish that statement. “No explanation needed. I don’t wanna know. Trust me.”
He’d done a good job of pushing Andrew out of his mind since the night before. Not a perfect one, as Andrew had crept in from time to time, even in the moments lying next to Vahin, but Marlon had done his best to ignore the tingle of worry. However, it came rushing back full force as he looked Andrew in the eye. There was no pretending the man didn’t know or hadn’t added up the correct answer from seeing him and Vahin together.
That settled it. He’d have to talk to Andrew, get it out in the open. Like he had with Sam. But that had been different. Sam had been different. He’d been the kind of partner cops dreamed about—always had your back, no matter what. And he hadn’t been an asshole. When Marlon had come out to him, it hadn’t been easy, but he’d known Sam would respond in his typical Sam manner. And that was the problem. Marlon had always thought Andrew was so deep in the closet he’d need a map to find his way out. And, if that were true, it could make Andrew’s reaction even worse.
Maybe coming out to Andrew was not an option.Good God.
Maybe Marlon could think of a good excuse for him and Vahin being together and even holding hands, if Andrew had seen that much, which obviously he had. How did you explain holding hands with another man?
Fuck.
It was pointless. Andrew already knew; he had to.
Marlon would wait until they were nearly done with their shift; that way they wouldn’t be stuck in the patrol car for endless hours with Andrew making innuendo-laden comments.
They stared at each other for a few seconds, and Marlon nearly blurted it all out there, just to get it over with.
“Officer Barton, can I see you for a second?”
Marlon turned to see Chief Schmidt in the doorway.
Damn it.“You bet, Chief.”
Chief Schmidt gave a fleeting glance toward Andrew. “Wrap up in here, Officer Morris, and go wait by the car. Yourpartnerwon’t be long.”
“Yes,sir!”
