by Lynn Lorenz
“Okay.” He sighed. “I was parked on the side of the road.” He left out the part about the headache and his blurry vision. “And this little red Miata goes flying past me, doing about sixty.”
“Sixty-five,” Edward quipped.
Jack shot him a glare. “So, I pursued.”
“Lights and sirens and everything.” Edward rolled his eyes. “It was so news-at-eleven.”
Sammi mimicked Edward and the others smirked.
“As I was saying”—Jack gave Edward another glare—“he pulls over and before I can run his plates, he gets out of the car and proceeds to walk this bulldog down the side of the road.”
“Oh shit.” Brian laughed. “That must have really pissed you off.”
“You bet.” Jack nodded.
“Winston had to go. What was so wrong with that?” Edward took a sip of his tea.
“When you get stopped by the law, you’re supposed to listen to what they say, obey orders, not go for a fucking stroll,” Jack growled.
“So you say,” Edward shot back.
Jack had a death grip on his fork. God, the man makes me crazy.
“Go on,” Sammi encouraged. “Then what happened?”
“I was going through his insurance and registration papers when the dog comes up to me and bites me on the ankle.”
“Oh no! What did you do to the poor dog?” Sammi gasped.
“Poor dog! I didn’t do anything, did I?” Jack turned to Edward.
“He didn’t. I have to admit it. Winston just walked right up to him and bit him.”
“Then?” Rush asked.
“I pulled my gun.”
“You weren’t going to shoot him?” Sammi’s hand flew to his mouth.
“He couldn’t. I grabbed his arm.”
“Hey, I’m telling this story.” Jack grinned at Edward. “So Edward grabs my arm, the one with the gun, and we’re struggling and the dog is shaking my leg like it’s a dead rat, and I lose my balance.”
“I let go.” Edward shrugged. “He said to let go and he wouldn’t shoot either of us. I was obeying orders.” He smirked at Jack.
“I fell on my ass in the middle of the road, the gun went off…”
“He shot my tire.”
“You screamed.”
“I did not!”
“The dog let go and I did what any self-respecting cop would do. I arrested the dog.” Jack paused. The entire table exploded in laughter and he joined them. It really was a great story and now, days later when his ankle no longer hurt, he could see the humor in it.
Laughing, Edward reached out and put his hand over Jack’s hand and for a moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
The moment passed and Jack slid his hand from under Edward’s.
The laughter died and an uncomfortable silence took over.
Edward stared down at his plate. He pulled his hand back and placed it in his lap. Jack stared at his food, not wanting to see the hurt on Edward’s face. Or whatever he’d find on the faces of the other men.
Rush cleared his throat. “Well, if you guys give me a few minutes, I’ll get the poker table set up.” He stood and left the dining room.
“I’ll man the bar and get everyone’s drinks.” Brian followed Rush.
Sammi stood. “Since I’m not playing, I’ll get the dishes and clean up.”
Edward stood. “I’ll help you.”
“That’s great. We can talk more.” Sammi’s tone suggested they’d more than talk and he gave Edward a sexy wink. A surge of jealousy rushed over Jack.
Oh no. Not good.
Jack stood. “I need another drink.” He followed Brian without a single glance at Edward.
Edward sighed and picked up his plate and Jack’s.
Mitchell stood, gave Sammi a kiss, and said “Don’t be long. You’re my lucky charm.”
Sammi snorted. “There’s no such thing as luck.” He leaned in and whispered, “And I’m not going to help you cheat to win.” Sammi gave his lover a knowing look and Mitchell grinned and shrugged.
“That’s okay. My superior talent and skill will win out.” Then he walked away, leaving Sammi and Edward alone.
“I get the feeling we’re the ‘designated women’ for tonight,” Edward said. “I should have worn heels.”
“I don’t mind.” Sammi laughed. “I really did want some time alone with you.”
“Me?” Edward squeaked. “Why? I thought you’re with Mitchell. Life partners and all that.”
Sammi came around the table, close to Edward. “I am.” He slid his hand over Edward’s arm. “But I want to know all about you and that dishy chief of police.”
“Jack? There’s nothing to tell.” Edward picked up another plate and headed for the kitchen, trying not to let Sammi see the truth in his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jack placed the box of cigars he’d brought on the table. “Can we smoke inside?”
Rush nodded. “I smoke all the time. It’s one of my vices.”
From Rush’s quick glance at Brian, Jack had the notion that Brian was one of his other vices.
Brian shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve gotten used to it.” He shot Rush an equally hot stare. Jack knew he didn’t mean the smell. Maybe he meant the taste of it in Rush’s mouth, on his tongue. Shit. He had to stop thinking like this. It had to be from being around so much blatant sexual energy. Between Mitchell and Sammi, Rush and Brian, Jack had a hard time not getting hard. And Edward, don’t forget Edward.
Rush laid out the table with chips and cards as the others sat.
“I’ll deal. Texas Hold ’Em. Five-dollar limit. You know the rules.” He dealt the cards like a pro. Each of the men tossed a five on the table and Rush pushed them their chips.
Jack’s eyebrows rose at Rush’s skill as a dealer. “Hope I brought enough cash.”
“I’ll take a marker, Chief.” Rush grinned as he lit up a cigar. He passed the box and clipper to Brian, who took one.
“Might as well.” He shrugged.
Jack took the box from him, chose a cigar, clipped the end and lit it up. He passed the box to Mitchell, who followed his lead.
“I’ve never smoked cigars,” Mitchell confessed. He inhaled, choked and laughed.
“Cigar virgin,” Rush proclaimed and Mitchell blushed.
“You’ll get used to it.” Jack motioned with his cigar. “Just don’t inhale too deeply the first time.”
“Okay.” Mitchell tried again, this time without choking. “Nice.”
“Good smokes,” Rush said. “Now that we’ve got our cards, our cigars and our drinks, let’s play.”
The game started and for a while, lost in the play and the camaraderie, Jack forgot about Edward.
* * * *
Edward sat at the kitchen table with Sammi and picked at a place mat. They’d rinsed the dishes, put them in the dishwasher and put away the leftovers. He didn’t want to go in the den where the others were. Where Jack was.
He should think about something else. Like healing his grandmother.
Sammi stared at him—then his eyebrows rose. “You’ve got a power.”
“What?” Edward straightened. Where did that come from?
“The power.” Sammi paused, his head tilted as if he were listening to something. “To heal. You can heal people.” He smiled.
“How did you know that?” Edward stood, knocking his chair over.
Sammi came to him and took his hand. “Don’t be scared. I have a power too. I can hear people’s thoughts.”
Edward’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Sammi. “You can hear my thoughts?”
“Yes, if I concentrate.”
“Can you hear Jack’s thoughts?” Edward had no idea why his mind flew to that. Well, he did, he just didn’t want to admit it.
“Yes.” Sammi leaned close, his lips brushing Edward’s ear as he whispered, “You make him crazy.”
“Crazy good or crazy bad?” Edward whispered.
Sammi’s tongue flicked Edward’s earlobe, sending a shot of arousal through Edward. “Crazy good. As in, you make his dick very, very hard.” Sammi slid his hand over Edward’s arm and Edward shivered at the caress. If he didn’t step away, he’d be in big trouble, but hell and damnation, it was as if he was rooted to the spot. Hypnotized.
“Do you think Mitchell would like what you’re doing?”
“I’m not worried about Mitchell.” Sammi nuzzled his neck.
“Oh?” Edward’s brain was shorting out, his eyes closing as he fell under Sammi’s spell. He couldn’t take much more of this before he gave in.
“I’m worried about you.”
Sammi licked his ear and turned Edward’s face to him. Edward closed his eyes as soft lips cushioned his and he leaned in to the kiss.
“What the fuck?”
Edward jerked away. Jack stood in the doorway, glaring at him. Fire ignited in Edward’s cheeks and flamed up to the roots of his hair. His heart hammered as a rush of adrenaline swept over him.
Sammi slung his arm around Edward’s waist, pulled him back and nuzzled Edward’s cheek.
Jack’s eyes widened, then narrowed. Edward didn’t need Sammi’s power to feel the fury pouring off Jack. Confused, Edward didn’t know what to do or why he felt as if he’d just betrayed Jack. With Sammi. And there was Mitchell. And…hell, he didn’t understand anything, except he’d never seen Jack so mad.
“Sorry for interrupting,” Jack spat out, spun and disappeared.
Edward pulled out a chair and slumped into it. “What just happened?”
Sammi sat next to him. “Well, from what I can tell, you just made Jack insane with jealousy.” He crossed his arms and smiled.
“You did that on purpose.” Edward ran his hand through his hair. Jack insane? He could believe that. Insane with jealousy? No way.
“I’m sorry. But Jack needed a wake-up call.” Sammi looked unrepentant.
Brian, Rush and Mitchell appeared in the doorway, all of them trying to enter at the same time.
“What happened? Jack just lit out of here like his boots were on fire.” Rush squeezed past the others into the kitchen.
Edward jerked his head at Sammi. “Ask him.”
“I kissed Edward. Jack saw it.”
Mitchell shook his head. “Perfectly timed, no doubt.”
Edward stared at him. Why wasn’t he upset? His lover had just kissed someone else. A stranger. If it had been Edward, he’d have thrown a fit.
Sammi gave Mitchell a soft smile, went to him and wrapped his arms around Mitchell’s neck. Mitchell bit Sammi’s jaw, then devoured his mouth with a kiss. Edward’s toes curled just watching it, so he was sure it had wiped away any memory Sammi had of kissing him.
“Why is it I feel like I’m coming in at the middle of a play and I don’t have the script?” Edward gaped at each of the men.
Brian cleared his throat. “We thought that maybe Jack needed a little push.”
“Oh fuck.” Edward put his head in his hands. Could this be any worse?
“I know, we meddled.” Mitchell sighed. “And we’re so sorry if we messed things up between you and Jack.”
Edward uncovered his face. “I keep trying to tell you. There is no me and Jack. Look, I know you were trying to help. But honestly, this was the worst possible thing you could have done.” He stood and shrugged. “I think I’d better go now. I’m sorry if my drama screwed up the evening.”
“Don’t go.” Sammi reached for him, but Edward stepped away.
“I have to, really. And please, for God’s sake, don’t spread any rumors about Jack. For the official record, Jack’s not gay.” Fuck, he was getting so tired of repeating himself. “I need to be alone.” Edward needed to curl into a ball, hug Winston and forget the expression on Jack’s face. All the denying Edward had done, all his adamant cries of “Jack’s not gay,” everything he’d done to protect Jack, had blown up in his face.
Brian went with Edward to the front door to see him out.
“Edward. I’m so sorry.” Brian grimaced.
“I know. And thanks for caring enough to try something so stupid.” Edward stretched up and kissed Brian on the cheek. “Jack’s lucky to have you guys for friends. I wish I had such good friends back in Atlanta.” Maybe if he had, they would have warned him about Derek instead of just watching and waiting for Edward to crash and burn.
Edward went down the steps to his car and got in.
It was going to be a long drive back to the motel.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jack let up on the gas pedal. The truck was flying down the blacktop. Going this fast might get him killed, but right now that sounded damn fine with him. His life was over anyway.
They all knew. What a fool he’d been. All his hard work, all his control, shot to hell. Years of repression and denial wasted.
It was all Edward’s fault. All of it. If he hadn’t come to Spring Lake, if he hadn’t been speeding, Jack would never have met him, never have felt the attraction, the hunger, oh fuck, the longing for Edward.
Jack didn’t know what to do. He’d have to call Brian and talk to him. Do some damage control. Even if it meant admitting he was gay. Shit. If he had to, he’d beg Brian not to out him.
He slowed and drove through town to his house. After pulling into his drive, he parked and turned off the lights. Closed his eyes and sat. Thinking.
No, thinking was bad. If he thought, he’d just linger on how furious, how hurt, how fucking jealous he’d been seeing Sammi kiss Edward. And he didn’t want to admit how strong his feelings about Edward had become in such a short time.
He’d never been so at a loss and so on the verge of losing control.
He pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to block out the scene in the kitchen, but it was burned into his brain or onto the back of his eyelids, wherever graphic scenes of destruction were stored.
He’d wanted to jerk Edward away from Sammi, rip him from Sammi’s arms and claim Edward as his own right there in Rush’s kitchen. Thank God he’d had some control left. Not much, but enough.
Edward had come into his life only six days ago, threatening everything Jack had worked so hard for.
Yet why could Jack recall every moment he’d spent with Edward, even the bad ones? Like the one in his office, when he’d made Edward cry or when Edward had wrestled him to the ground over the dog. And the good ones like tonight, as he told the story of how they’d met and Edward kept interrupting. Or when Edward had taken Jack’s pain away, almost died but had saved Jack’s life.
And all Jack had ever done to Edward had been to hurt him.
Oh shit. He’d fucked up royally.
Jack turned the key, fired up the truck and backed out of the drive.
* * * *
Edward shut the door to his room and slumped against it. Winston hopped off the bed and danced around his feet. Edward glanced at the bed, wishing he could crawl into it and bury himself under the covers, but duty called.
Woof. Woof.
“Okay, boy. I know you need to go out. Just hold on.” Edward got Winston’s lead and snapped it on. “Come, Winston.” He opened the door, made sure he had the key then left his room. The door shut and he crossed the parking lot with Winston in the lead.
Fifteen minutes later, after he’d walked Winston, he unlocked his door and went inside, unsnapped the leash and let Winston loose. Then he sat on the bed and yanked off his boots and socks.
Barefoot, he went to the bath to get ready for bed. He’d pulled his shirt out of his jeans and unbuttoned it when there was a knock on the door.
“Who could that be?” he asked his reflection.
His reflection shrugged.
“Winston, come in here.” He called the bulldog then closed him in the bathroom so he wouldn’t be a pest or run out of the room.
Edward went to the door and looked out of the security peephole.
Jack.
Hell and damnation. What was
Jack doing here and why was Edward’s heart pounding as if he were an excited schoolboy with a crush on his teacher? Edward leaned against the cheap wood, his mind racing. If he let Jack in, Jack would probably kill him for what happened tonight. If he didn’t let him in, he would probably kick his way in and kill him—then who would pay for that?
If he let Jack in, at least he wouldn’t have to pay for the breakage. He’d be dead, but debt free. Not quite win-win, but it had its advantages.
The door jumped with another round of knocking, each thud rocking Edward’s body.
“Go away.” Edward prayed Jack would listen—then he prayed Jack wouldn’t.
“Edward. Let me in. We need to talk.”
Edward sighed. It was inevitable. Whether it was here or later, they’d have to have this out, whatever ‘this’ was. He stepped away, swung back the security latch and opened the door.
Jack struggled to remain composed. The corner of Jack’s mouth twitched and a vein throbbed in his temple.
“I want to apologize,” Jack said. His voice was all raspy and gruff and sexy as hell.
Edward stared up into his face, waiting. Jack scuffed his boot against the cement but didn’t say anything else. He shoulders hunched, as if he’d curled up inside himself but still walked upright. Something ate at Jack. Served him right. As far as Edward was concerned, there’d been too many ‘somethings’.
“So which one are you apologizing for? Lying to me about being gay? Trying to steal my best friend away from me? Making me think I was nuts? Or manipulating me?”
Jack winced with each item Edward ticked off. “All of it, I guess.”
“Apology accepted. Good night.” Edward shut the door, but Jack stopped it with his hand.
“Wait.” He licked his lips.
“There’s more?” Edward arched a brow.
Jack stood there, staring at his feet. Maybe he was trying to figure out which one to shove in his mouth first.
Edward sighed. “Why are you here, Jack?”
Jack glanced up and Edward watched some internal battle being waged as demons danced in the depths of Jack’s blue eyes.
Hell and damnation. Why did the man have to be so damned sexy? So in need of healing?
