That was as far as he got before Wade spun, grabbed Jericho by his shirt, and slammed him into the side of the pickup next to his. “You didn’t think,” Wade growled. One forearm shifted across Jericho’s throat, holding him in place, while the other roamed desperately over Jericho’s body—frisking him? No, checking for damage.
Jericho was bigger than Wade, better trained than Wade—if they were actually fighting, Jericho would win. But they weren’t fighting, not really.
“I thought about you today, just like I always do,” Jericho admitted. His voice was a little strained as it worked past the pressure on his throat. “But it didn’t occur to me that you’d be worried. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t think I’d be worried?” Wade demanded. His hands had stopped moving, now, one still across Jericho’s throat, the other gripping his belt. “All day long I’m hearing about a fucking shoot-out, seeing choppers coming and going, everyone going crazy, and I can’t call you, can’t come see whether you’re okay, because I’d just be feeding the feds more fucking reasons to not trust you, and all I can do is sit there and imagine all the reasons why you can’t let me know what’s going on. So I come up with a stupid fucking cover story, an excuse to let me get inside the department and at least see what’s going on, and I go up the stairs and you’re having a fucking tea party?” His voice broke, and he took a deep breath, then brought both hands to Jericho’s shoulder and shoved, hard. “You’re a fucking asshole, Crewe.”
“I thought you’d know,” Jericho said. It was a bit lame, maybe, but it was true. “You know everything that happens in this town before anybody else does, including everything that happens at the sheriff’s station or with the feds. I thought you’d know about this.”
“I didn’t,” Wade said. For a moment it seemed like he was going to let it go; Jericho could almost feel the tension in Wade’s body starting to drain away. But then Wade shoved Jericho again, just as hard, and said, “This is bullshit. I’m not going to do this, not going to sit around worrying about you when I know I can’t do a single fucking thing to help. No, Jay. If you’re going to do dangerous shit, you need to do it with me so I know what’s happening, so I can do something about it.”
Jericho sighed. “I’m not a kid anymore. I’m not looking to do dangerous things. But today? There was no choice, Wade. Kay was going in, and I—”
“Fucking Kay! Jesus, Jericho, she’s a grown-ass woman, and she’s the fucking sheriff. She doesn’t need you babysitting her. I’m sick of hearing about her, and how you have to do shit because of her. You don’t have to. You don’t owe her a goddamn thing.”
“She’s a friend, and things are tough right now. Someone’s got to have her back.”
“She’s got her fed friends for that, doesn’t she?”
“Jesus, Wade, are you fucking jealous? Kay needed help, and even if she hadn’t, there were officers under fire. They needed help.”
“And you had to be one of the people helping them. It had to be your problem.” Wade shook his head. Now the tension was leaving him for real, and Jericho almost wished it would come back, because anger was better than this unfamiliar, defeated Wade it was leaving behind. “And if it’s your problem, it’s my problem,” Wade said. It sounded almost like he was talking to himself. “Goddamn it.” Then he looked up, eyes bright and hard. “You’re not quitting the job. Right? All that talk on the weekend was just talk—just fucking make-believe.”
“It wasn’t just talk,” Jericho said, but he had to add, “Not when I was saying it. But now? Right now? I can’t walk away from this, Wade. It’s not just Kayla who needs me—Jackson’s gone from half-assed whiner to full-on insubordination, the other deputies are either too old to do field work or too young to keep themselves alive without help. We’ve got dead feds and dead militia assholes and a hell of a mess all round. I can’t quit—not yet.” He tried to catch Wade’s gaze, but the man had gone back to looking at the ground. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
They stood quietly for a few moments, and then Wade raised his head and smiled. “Of course not.” He sounded calm and reasonable, and that was never good. “I understand. You have commitments.”
“Wade,” Jericho said warningly. Whatever plan was being developed, whatever trap was being set, he didn’t want any part of it.
But Wade just leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss, then stepped back toward his pickup. “Sorry for interrupting your work. You should get back inside.” There wasn’t even a hint of venom in his voice when he added, “Kayla needs you.”
“Shit, Wade.” Jericho didn’t have any other words, couldn’t hope to outthink Wade. All he had was his sincerity, and compared to Wade’s deviousness it didn’t seem like much of a tool. Still, he tried. He reached for Wade, found the warm skin of his neck and tugged him forward. He was too pliant, too cooperative, but it was Wade somewhere in there, and Jericho kissed him with as much sweetness as he could find, as much need and apology and truth and tenderness. And, eventually, Wade kissed him back, and maybe that was enough.
But it was Wade who pulled away first. “This is the sheriff’s parking lot, Jay. Not the time or place.”
“I’m not going to hide it. Seriously, the feds know, the deputies know, and I’m not doing anything illegal. If you want to call me during the day to see if I’m okay? Call me. I don’t care who’s listening in. Fuck them. If you want to come by my place? Come by. We’ll wave at the surveillance team before we close the curtains and ignore them. Okay?”
“And what about darling Kay?” Wade asked with raised eyebrows. “How’s that going to look? Corrupt father and corrupt under-sheriff—”
“I’m not corrupt,” Jericho said firmly. “If you come by, it’s personal. I’m not going to feed you information from work, and if you tell me something—well, if you tell me something I’ll assume it’s another piece in whatever trap you’re currently building and I’ll try to figure out how to disarm the damn thing, but I’ll pass it along to Kay and the feds, just like I’ve been doing all along. I’m not offering to get in bed with you in any but a literal sense.”
“And the county voters will absolutely understand that.”
“That’ll be Kay’s problem. If she wants to fire me, she can. But I’ve already told her—or at least I started to—if it comes down to choosing between you and my job, I choose you.”
“Yeah?” Wade’s smile was a little softer this time, a little more real. “Damn, Junior, you can be a real sweet-talker when you try to be.”
“Don’t get too worked up,” Jericho said, letting his hands fall to Wade’s waist. “I really don’t like my job very much.”
Wade grinned, and Jericho kissed him, and they were good again. Sure, Wade was still going to scheme and plan, but that was okay. It wouldn’t be Wade if he weren’t doing that, and anything that wasn’t Wade? Jericho wasn’t interested.
“Do you need to go back inside?” Wade asked.
Jericho shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ll call Kay and tell her I’m leaving. And you should know that she thought I was an asshole for not calling you earlier and letting you know I was okay. You might not be her favorite person, but—”
“But she’s happy to have an excuse to bitch at you and try to scold you back into the fold of respectable behavior and domestication.”
Jericho didn’t respond to that; there was no point. Instead, he texted Kayla that he was taking a break and would be back first thing, asked her to keep him in the loop if there were new developments, then turned to Wade. “I know I said it doesn’t matter, but just in case you were still feeling shy? I don’t think there’s a fed in this quarter of the continent working on anything but the militia case. If you came back to my place with me, there wouldn’t be anyone jotting it down in their logbook.”
