He didn’t want to say it, to bring it all up again. But some truths didn’t stay buried. And this was Leon.
He drew in a slow, painful breath and forced the words out. “I was military,” he said at last. “Did things I don’t talk about. We got split up once—me and my team. I was sent in one direction, they were sent in another. Orders.”
He knew it was coming out jerkily, his voice clipped. Only way he could get through it.
“They got caught in a bad situation—bad intel. Some of them were hurt bad. And the officer who gave the order, who sent me away from them…” Karl’s voice vibrated with fury, though whether at the officer or himself, he couldn’t tell. Because he was the one who’dobeyedthose fucking orders.
“He was a cat. One of the rare ones who’d made it into high command. Tactical genius and zero empathy. Said the outcome was worth the cost. Collateral damage.”
Leon didn’t move. He wasn’t looking at Karl, giving him the illusion of privacy as he ripped himself open.
“When I caught up with him,” Karl said, “I put him through a wall.”
Leon drew in a sharp breath. “Jesus.”
“Didn’t kill him. Didn’t even break anything. But I hit a superior officer, so…” He shrugged tightly. “They let me go. Honorably and quietly. I was high-value enough to merit a soft landing.”
He looked away, eyes fixed on the house below. “I could’ve stayed. It’s what they wanted me to do, civilian ops, or advisory. But I didn’t want to be part of it anymore.”
Leon swallowed. “And he didn’t care about your team?”
“Not even a flicker.” Karl’s voice dropped. “He didn’t even know their names. It didn’t matter—theydidn’t matter. It was an acceptable risk.”
And maybe… maybe if they’d gained something worthwhile, if there’d been aneedfor Karl to be separated from them, he might see it differently. They were soldiers. They knew the risks when they enlisted, knew what it might mean. But when it was all for nothing, and that cat had justsmirkedat Karl’s anger… That was when everything changed for him, when he knew he didn’t want any part of it. Not the mindset that saw others as nothing more than pawns on a board.
Leon said softly, “That’s not most of us, you know.”
“I do now,” Karl said. He looked over at Leon, and held his gaze. “Took me a while to realize, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
Leon nodded. He didn’t say anything, yet somehow Karl knew he’d taken his apology as it was meant. It wasn’t something said to smooth things over but Karl admitting he’d been wrong. And it was kind of scary and kind of beautiful, how well he already knew Leon.
They sat in silence a while, before Leon reached out and brushed an imaginary piece of lint from Karl’s shoulder, letting his fingers linger a moment too long. The heat between them kicked up instantly. Karl’s heart stuttered, and his breathing shifted, just a fraction.
“You’re staring again,” Karl murmured.
“Still not sorry.”
Karl didn’t move. He didn’t break eye contact, and his voice, when he spoke again, was rougher.
“Dinner’s soon.”
“So?” Leon’s lips curved into a slow, suggestive smile.
“So you really want to go back down there with my scent all over you?”
Leon leaned in, his lips barely brushing Karl’s ear. “More than you can imagine.”
That did it. Karl shifted toward him, the movement like a dam finally breaking. And then Leon’s mouth was on his—hot, urgent, claiming—and Karl kissed him like he’d waitedyearsfor this moment. No restraint, his mouth hungry on Leon’s, tongue searching for more.Needingmore.
Leon gave as good as he got. By the time they pulled apart, Karl’s heart was hammering almost hard enough to rattle his ribs. Leon’s lips were kiss-bruised and beautiful, his pupils blown wide, and the look he gave Karl was raw.
Karl drew a breath, hoping it might steady him. It didn’t. “Change of venue?” he asked, gravel in his voice.
Leon didn’t answer. Just got to his feet, smooth and fluid, and offered a hand. Karl took it, and Leon’s easy strength as he helped him to his feet sent new shivers down his spine. God, he needed Leon naked and under him. Right the fuck now.
As they crossed the field, the air was taut around them, like a live wire humming. And then he paused—no bed in Jason and Riley’s bunkhouse, yet no privacy in his.
“There are cats in my bunkhouse,” he said.
