“Congratulations!!” Joshua crowed, applauding. “Happy anniversary, you two!”
“Happy anniversary,” Colin echoed. He moved to stand next to Joshua and wrapped an arm around him.
Nate stared at the beautifully decorated cake for a moment and then turned to his friends. “Weneverexpected this,” he said, his voice choked. “It’s not even our anniversary.” His blue eyes shone with tears, and he hugged Colin and Joshua. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You guys are the best.”
“And there’s champers on the balcony,” Colin added.
“Champagne!” David exclaimed. “Well, that makes it perfect.” He also moved to hug both his friends. “Thank you. Given that—as my husband pointed out—it’s not even our anniversary, this was an incredibly thoughtful gesture.”
“My husband is an incredibly thoughtful guy,” Colin replied. He handed Nate an ornate knife that lay beside the cake. “Care to do the honors?”
“Let’s do it on the balcony,” David suggested.
“Well, that sounds like fun,” Colin replied. “But won’t we shock our fellow passengers?”
David turned to face him. “I think youknowwhat I meant, Irish.”
Nate wheeled the table to the balcony and cut huge pieces of cake for everyone while David opened the champagne.
“Here’s to love and friendship,” Joshua said, lifting his glass.
“And to eating cakeandpie under the stars,” Colin added.
“And to drinking champagne with good friends,” David said, touching his glass to Colin’s.
“And to Alaskan cruises during Pride Month,” Nate said. “Who would have thought it would be so much fun?”
CHAPTERTWELVE
THE FBI AND OTHER NONSENSE
The following day, Colin and Joshua were sound asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, when they were again pulled from slumber by a loud banging on the door to their stateroom. Colin ground out a rasping sound of disgust as he disentangled himself from Joshua’s limbs and struggled to his feet. “Goddammit!” he spat out. Hopping on one foot, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants, stumbled to the door, and yanked it open. “What!”
Two men in dark suits stood before him, and Colin spotted Officer Blake Sinclair standing behind them, his expression panic stricken. He stared at the visitors momentarily, then lowered his head and sighed. “Feds, right?”
“Sergeant Campbell?”
“Not anymore,” Colin said, then glanced behind himself to where Joshua still slept, naked, in their bed. “Hang on one second,” he told the men, then closed the door and moved to the side of the bed. “Josh?” he murmured, shaking Joshua’s shoulder. “Babe, the FBI’s here. You have to get up or at least get dressed.”
“Huh?” Joshua replied, his voice sleepy.
“The feds have arrived, and I’d just as soon they didn’t get a look at your naked booty.”
“Fucking hell! Hand me those sweats, would you?” Joshua pulled on the sweatpants, then sat on the side of the bed, trying to shake off his sleepiness, while Colin returned to the stateroom door and ushered the three men into their room.
“How can I help you, gentlemen?” Colin asked, perching on the bed beside his husband.
“I’m Agent Parkinson, and this is Agent Payne,” the agent said, his voice stiff. “We understand that you interrogated Ms. Stamford?”
“I did. You have the report.”
“Yes. We want to be sure that the information on it is accurate.”
Colin’s emerald-green eyes narrowed as he stared at the FBI agent. “Youhavethe report,” he said again. “I see no reason to go over it again. I won’t add anything, I won’t subtract anything. What you read is exactly what was said.”
“Is that so, Sergeant Campbell?” Parkinson said, his voice edgy with disdain. “Since you’re not anactivelaw enforcement officer, we can’t be certain that you?—”
“Know how to interrogate a rape victim?” Colin finished smoothly. He heard a throaty protest and turned to look at his husband, who was glaring at the federal agents.
