by Lynn Lorenz
“Of course. Olivia, I’ll see you next week at the board meeting.” He gave her hand a small squeeze and she and Edward moved out of the door and down the steps.
He searched the parking lot for the police cruiser, but it wasn’t there. Maybe Jack had come in the pickup truck he’d seen parked in Jack’s driveway. He wouldn’t know it well enough to recognize it, and not in the sea of trucks, so there was no use in checking for it.
Edward led Olivia back to his car, got her seated, then went around to the driver’s side. He nosed the car out of the crowded lot and headed home.
“You and Chief Whittaker didn’t sound happy with each other.” Olivia peered at him, her eyebrow arched.
“Well. He’s just doing his job. I’m just doing what I have to do to get my dog back. That’s all.” He shrugged.
“That’s all?” She scoffed. “Why, the tension was so thick between you two, I wasn’t sure if y’all were going to kiss or kill each other.”
Edward’s face ignited. “Meemaw!”
She slapped her thigh and cackled. “I knew it.”
“I don’t know what you think you know, but I promise you, I wanted to kill him. And I’m sure he felt the same about me.” The last thing Edward wanted was for anyone, even Olivia, to know about his unrequited feelings for Jack. More grist for the rumor mill.
And if Jack wanted to kill him now, if any sort of rumor about him and Edward got loose, Edward had no doubt Jack would come looking for him and use that gun he carried.
“That was more than just hate, Edward. That was pure grade-A lust between you two. And I should know. I’ve seen it plenty.”
Edward pulled into her drive and parked. This had to be nipped in the bud before it got away from him. Rumors like this could destroy Jack’s career. Especially here in Hooterville. And the very last thing Edward wanted to do was to hurt Jack. Ever.
He turned to Olivia. “Meemaw. Please. I have to ask you to never, never make those comments again. Not about me and Jack.” He took her hands in his. “Don’t you see? No matter what I feel, Jack has a position here that could be damaged by such foolish talk.”
“Is it foolish?” She stared into his eyes and he met her gaze with what he prayed would look like determination.
“Yes. It’s foolish. Jack isn’t gay, Meemaw. Trust me, I know.”
“How?” she pressed.
“Haven’t you ever heard of gaydar? It takes one to know one? It’s like that—we can spot each other a mile away. Jack’s not gay. Please.”
She sighed. “Too bad. Because I think he’d be perfect for you, and you for him.”
So did Edward.
Chapter Fifteen
Jack held Winston’s leash coiled in his hand as he shut and locked his front door. Winston sat on the sidewalk waiting for him.
“Heel.”
The little dog fell into step alongside Jack. There was no need to attach the leash. He trotted to the cruiser and waited by Jack’s door to get in. Jack opened the door and the dog jumped up, went to the passenger seat and sat. Ready to roll.
Jack chuckled. He turned the ignition and hit the window remote for Winston. The dog waited until the window had slid down before hooking his paws over the edge and sticking his bulky head out.
Woof.
“I hear you, buddy.” Jack backed out and headed to town. Mondays sucked, but for some reason, his mood was good. Better than it should be.
Edward would come to the station today, prove that Winston had his shots, and take the animal away. And that would be that.
Then Jack could get back to his life. Back to normal.
He shook off the small twinge of tightness in his chest and rolled his own window down, sucking in the cool morning air as he drove to work. If anything had brought home the fact that Edward was dangerous to him, it was yesterday at church.
It just wasn’t proper to be thinking about making love to a man while the minister was preaching. But Jack had registered only the first few words of the sermon before his mind had danced into dangerous territory. He’d had to put the hymnal on his lap to hide the fact that he was half-hard.
Edward was sin on two legs, for damn sure.
And Jack had wanted to sin.
That’s when he’d made up his mind. Edward had to go, the sooner the better.
Once in town, Jack stopped at the bakery, picked up two dozen assorted doughnuts for the guys and went to the station.
“Morning!” he called as he entered the main office, Winston trotting at his side.
Kristen looked up from her desk, her eyebrows raised. “You’re in a good mood.”
“Brought donuts.” He plopped them down on her desk.
“I’ll put them in the kitchen.” She stood, picked up the boxes and went down the hall. “You’ve got nothing on the schedule today.”
“No meetings?” It was too good to be true. A Monday with no meetings? This day’s off to a great start. “Hear that, buddy? Nothing but air.” He made a wave motion with his hand.
Woof.
Winston wagged his rump, wide mouth open and tongue hanging.
Jack went to his office with the dog at his heels and sat behind the desk. He flicked on his computer as Winston settled next to the desk.
Kristen appeared in the doorway. “Well, Chief. How was your weekend?”
“Great. I spent most of it training Winston.”
“Training him?” She leaned in the doorway, arms crossed.
“Yeah. Watch.” Jack stood and came around the desk, eager to show off the dog’s new tricks. He moved next to Kristen by the door. “Winston. Come.”
The dog stood, trotted over to him and sat.
“Nice.” Kristen nodded.
“Down,” Jack commanded.
The dog slid his front legs to the floor.
“He does Stay, Heel and Off.”
“Did you teach him the one where you pretend to shoot him and he falls over?” Her eyes danced at Jack.
“I thought about it, but there wasn’t time. If I’d had a few more days…” Jack shrugged and went back to his desk. Winston remained in Down. “Come, boy.”
The bulldog rose and padded across the floor to Jack’s side.
“Stay.” The dog sat. “He’ll sit there until I give him another command or say A-T E-A-S-E.” Jack spelled the word so Winston wouldn’t respond to it.
“O-K-A-Y.” Kristen giggled. “You and that dog have gotten sort of close, huh?”
Jack shrugged. “It killed the time. He’s so smart—he took to training right off. He should have been trained, anyway. I just saved Edward the trouble, is all.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded and rolled her eyes. “What are you going to do once he’s gone?”
“Celebrate?” Jack smirked. Sure, he’d gotten used to having Winston around, talking to him, playing fetch, and he’d be sad to see the little bulldog gone, but if it meant getting rid of Edward, Jack was all for it.
All he wanted was to get back to the way it was before Edward Paul Beauregard the Third came into his life.
Kristen chuckled and pulled the door shut as Jack went to work on the force’s schedule for the next month.
* * * *
Edward waited until nine to make the call to his veterinarian. After explaining the situation to the receptionist, he sat on hold then explained it again to Dr. Andrews.
The doctor promised to fax over both the record of the shot and a certificate of health to the police station as soon as Edward gave him the fax number.
Edward didn’t have the number, but he’d just go to the station, get the number and call the doctor back. Simple as pie. Once he had the fax, he and Winston would be out of there.
Edward sat at the kitchen table and took a sip of his coffee. “Meemaw, I’m going to the station to pick up Winston. Then we’re going up to the hotel and check in. I’ll come back to see you once I’m done there.” He’d loaded his bags into the small trunk of the Miata earlier.
Olivia smiled at him. “Don�
��t worry about me, I’m feeling just fine. Go get that little dog of yours. I know you miss him something awful.”
“I do. He’s my best friend. I know that sounds funny. I know I’m a grown man, but”—he shrugged—“he’s the only one who’s ever been faithful, who’s been by my side, thick and thin.”
“I understand.” She patted his hand. “And I truly wish I didn’t have this damn allergy so I could have you both here.”
“It’s okay.” Edward stood, pecked her cheek. “I’ll be back around noon. What do you say about a date for lunch?”
She laughed. “Why, I haven’t had a date with a handsome young man in over fifty years. I hope we scandalize Spring Lake.” She winked at him.
“Well, we’ll give them something to talk about.” He winked back. “After all, I’ve had my share of scandals.”
“Get out of here, child. Go get that dog. I’ll see you later.” She waved him away.
Edward left, got in the Miata, unlocked the convertible roof locks and hit the button. The ragtop opened then folded neatly down.
All he could think about was getting Winston back as he headed to the station to spring his best friend in the world from jail. He refused to give Jack Whittaker a second’s thought. Because a second would lead to a minute and a minute to an hour and he’d be right back where he was before, pining for a straight man. And that wasn’t going to happen.
Not today. Not ever.
He parked in the lot, got out and almost skipped around to the front doors. Pushing through them, he sang out, “What’s the story, morning glory?”
Kristen looked up and laughed. “What’s the tale, nightingale?”
Grinning, Edward sat on the edge of her desk. “I talked to my vet. He’s all ready to fax the papers over. I just need the number.”
She pushed him off and gave him the number on a slip of paper. Then he sat in a chair to talk to the vet’s receptionist. After relaying the information, he snapped the phone closed and grinned at her. “It’s coming your way.”
“Great. I know you’ll be glad to get him back.”
Edward nodded. “I miss him so much.” It was an honest admission, but one he couldn’t help but make to her.
“I think the chief’s going to miss him too,” she said.
He frowned, then brightened. “Not as much as he’ll miss me, I bet.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Never mind, I’ll miss you.”
“Thank you, darling.” He stood. “I can’t wait any longer. I want Winston.” He walked to Jack’s office. “Is he busy?”
“No. Go on in.”
Edward knocked.
“Enter.” Jack’s deep, muffled voice still managed to send a tremor down Edward’s spine, lodging in his balls.
He took a deep breath, opened it and went in. Closing the door behind him, he watched Jack, head bent over the keyboard, eyes shifting back and forth between some papers and the screen.
For a moment, Edward just stared. Good Lord, the man was so very handsome.
Edward cleared his throat. “Hi, Jack.” His voice came out raspy anyway.
Jack looked up, their eyes met. In that second, Edward knew it was all a lie. Every vow he’d made, every oath he’d sworn to forget Jack, to leave him behind like last year’s shoes on the bargain rack at Saks and never to let this man crawl under his skin and touch his heart.
Edward broke the gaze and smiled at Winston. “Winston!”
The little dog sat next to the desk and didn’t move. Panting, his mouth opened and his tongue lolled, but he didn’t rush to Edward.
“Come on, boy!” Edward knelt, waiting for the little dog to race across the room and fling himself into Edward’s arms. Winston whined but didn’t budge.
Edward’s throat tightened until he couldn’t breathe. Even swallowing didn’t work. “Winston?” It came out like a croak.
The dog just sat there.
His best friend in the world wouldn’t come to him.
Edward glared at Jack. “What the hell did you do to my dog?” he rasped. His voice still wasn’t right. Nothing was right. Hell and damnation, he couldn’t breathe.
Jack stood. “Oh, he’s just in Stay.”
“In Stay?” Edward stared at the dog, then flicked his gaze back to Jack. “What the hell is that?”
“Stay. It’s a command. I trained him.” Jack smiled at him as he stood beside Winston.
Edward finally sucked in air. “You trained him not to come to me?” He’d known Jack was upset with him, but he’d never thought, not for one second, that Jack hated him. That he’d go so far as to hurt Edward like this. That Jack would take the one thing in Edward’s life that meant everything to him.
That Jack would steal his best friend.
Edward’s hands tightened into fists. He’d never felt so angry, so betrayed, so ready to do physical harm in his life. “You. Had. No. Right.”
“What?” Jack took a step back.
“You had no right to do that to my dog.” Now Edward fought his body to keep from trembling, especially his bottom lip. “You had no right!” he shouted.
“I…” Jack sputtered.
“He’s my dog. Mine! Not yours.” A tear rolled down Edward’s cheek and he shook with fury and hurt.
“Edward, listen.” Jack took another step toward him.
“No, you listen. You just couldn’t leave him alone, could you? He wasn’t good enough for you, was he? You had to fix him. Had to make him better. He was perfect just the way he was.” Edward’s vision blurred, unable to hold back the flood that poured from his eyes like water over a dam.
“No, it wasn’t like that.” Jack shook his head. He swallowed and grimaced as if in pain.
“Do you hate me so much?” Edward’s voice was small, soft, but he didn’t care how hurt he sounded. He was hurt. Mortally. Dagger in the heart hurt.
Jack didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped up to Edward. Jack cupped Edward’s cheek, his hand warm and rough, and he brushed away the trail of tears on Edward’s face with the pad of his thumb. Edward’s heart staggered at the tenderness in the caress.
“No, baby. No. I don’t hate you.” Jack leaned forward, resting his forehead against Edward’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Jack’s lips brushed over Edward’s forehead, his temple, his cheekbone, each touch a feather, each sweet kiss sending shocks right to Edward’s heart. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”
Jack found Edward’s mouth in a soft, slow, lingering kiss.
Edward’s brain short-circuited and his knees threatened to give way as he buried his hands in Jack’s shirt and clung to him. Melted into his body as Jack cupped Edward’s ass and pulled him closer. Edward’s desperate need overcame his hurt.
Jack slipped his tongue along the seam of Edward’s mouth, begging entry. Edward moaned, opened to Jack and accepted the soft, searching tongue, reveling in the connection, the taste of him. Delicious and addictive as Godiva chocolate.
Straight men didn’t kiss the way Jack was kissing him.
They don’t kiss men at all.
Edward had a moment of clarity and the truth rocked him. Anger rose like a tidal wave and drowned the desire he’d felt for Jack.
He pushed Jack away and glared up into those unfocused blue eyes. “You lied to me.”
“What?” Jack’s lips reddened from their kiss.
“You are gay. You lied to me,” he whispered. “You made me feel like I was some sort of pervert because I came on to a straight man. That I was wrong about what I felt between us and that I couldn’t trust my own feelings.” He’d never felt so manipulated, so foolish. So stupid.
Jack swallowed. “Edward. Let me explain.”
“Explain?” He shoved Jack. “You lying bastard. You’re just like all the rest of them. You’d do anything to get what you want, no matter who it hurts.”
“You’re not being fair, Edward. I have a career here…”
“Yes. I know. You’re the fucking
chief of police, and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” Edward threw Jack’s words back at him, then pushed past Jack. “I’m taking my dog and getting out of here.”
Jack rubbed his lips with the back of his hand, as if erasing the evidence of their kiss. “You can’t. I didn’t get the papers.”
“The vet is faxing them now.” Edward picked up the leash from Jack’s desk, clipped it to Winston’s collar. “Winston. Come.” Then he jerked the lead and the little dog followed him.
“You can’t leave yet,” Jack sputtered.
“I am leaving. With. My. Dog. If you have a problem with that, you can shoot me.” With a final glare at Jack, Edward marched to the door, opened it and stormed out.
He passed Kristen, her eyes wide, mouth open in a small circle, head rotating as she tracked him. He barreled through the outer doors with Winston at his heels, fully expecting to feel a bullet between his shoulder blades at any moment. That would be just fine. It could match the one he had in his heart.
Edward reached the car, opened the door and Winston got in. “I’m sorry, Winston. I didn’t know he’d do that to you. You were perfect just the way you were.”
Keeping it together, Edward pulled out of the lot and drove toward the motel. He needed to check in. He needed to crawl under the covers and never come out.
Nothing had changed. He hadn’t changed.
Jack had made a fool of him.
No. He’d allowed Jack to make a fool of him, and that was worse.
He pulled over to the side of the road as a great, shuddering sob exploded from his chest. Winston whimpered, nudged Edward’s arm and Edward gathered him in and held him close, clinging to the bulldog as if he were the last life preserver on the Titanic.
Burying his face in Winston’s soft fur, Edward wept.
Chapter Sixteen
Jack staggered against the door. What the hell just happened?
He’d looked up and Edward had been there and Jack’s stomach had jumped and his heart had thudded and all the blood in his brain rushed straight to his dick. Shit.
Pushing away from the door, he went to his desk and fell into his chair, leaned back and closed his eyes.
Edward was right. He’d been so selfish, so arrogant, to assume that he had the right to train Winston. He hadn’t even thought about Edward’s reaction, asked his permission, only acted on his need for control over the little dog.
