by Cindy Dees
The knob on the front door moved, and he crouched in the bedroom doorway, using the log wall for cover as he took aim. He exhaled slowly as the door cracked open and his finger began a smooth pull through on the trigger. He would have a millisecond to see the tango’s face and memorize it before he obliterated it with a couple of rounds of hot lead.
The intruder slipped inside as the firing pin began to engage.
Shit.
He yanked the pistol up at the last possible second, shocked that it didn’t actually fire. He released the trigger carefully and made sure the weapon was safe before he lowered it. He couldn’t say the same for his heart. It pounded like a jackhammer in his chest as he straightened in disgust and moved into the living room.
“I almost shot you,” he bit out.
Chas set down several bags of groceries on the counter and turned, staring at the weapon gripped in his fist. “I thought you might want something to eat when you woke up. The only restaurant around here is the one up at the main lodge, and I figured you wouldn’t want to be seen there, particularly not with me and Poppy.”
Gunner sighed and shrugged into his shoulder holster. When he’d buckled the leather harness in place, he stuck the gun in it.
Chas started unpacking groceries and asked, “Don’t you worry about shooting your own ass with your gun tucked in your pants like that?”
“It has a safety. I wouldn’t stick a gun in my pants if it didn’t. Some of the Sig Sauer models don’t come with safeties, for example. You always use a holster with one of them. Otherwise you do risk shooting off some important body part.”
“How would I know if the safety was on or off if I looked at your gun?”
Gunner moved over to the kitchen counter and drew the weapon. “Some weapons have a grip safety or a decocker, but mine has a simple thumb safety. See this little lever here? If it’s pointed down, like this, the weapon is safe. If I flip it up, like this, pointing down the barrel, it’s off. You can remember it by thinking of it pointing in the direction a bullet would travel if the trigger were pulled. It would stay down in the clip if the safety is pointing down, but would travel down the barrel and fire if the safety is pointing forward.”
“I’m still stuck on what a decocker might be,” Chas murmured.
Gunner snorted in humor.
“Is Poppy still asleep?” Chas asked.
“Jesus. I haven’t checked on her. I woke up when your car drove up and headed straight out here.”
“To kill me.”
“Well, to kill the intruder I thought you were.”
“Why not try to apprehend one of the bad guys? Make him talk? Find out what they want with Poppy and me?”
Gunner shrugged. “We could. But it’s not as easy or pretty as it is on TV to get a prisoner to spill their guts. You have to be prepared to do some bad things to break a really determined prisoner, or you have to be super patient and prepared to take your time earning their trust. Either way, it’s messy and time-consuming.”
“That’s disappointing,” Chas replied.
Gunner moved swiftly to the second bedroom, which had come with a crib, and checked on Poppy, who was sprawled on her stomach with her face mashed against the mattress. She clutched the stuffed elephant and drooled a little in her sleep.
“She’s passed out like a cheap drunk,” he announced, returning to Chas’s side.
“She’s not a cheap drunk,” Chas declared. “Well, she probably would be at this age, but don’t ever give her alcohol, okay?”
“Never,” Gunner agreed. “Watchya got in the bags?” His stomach was growling something fierce.
“Nothing fancy. This place doesn’t have much by way of cooking equipment. When we get back to my place in Misty Falls, I’ll cook you a dinner that’ll make you weep with joy. But for now, you’re getting hamburgers.”
“I’ll take ’em.”
They worked together for the next few minutes, Gunner mashing hamburger into patties and frying them while Chas thin-sliced potatoes and fried them. When he pulled the fries out of the pot, he sprinkled them expertly with some sort of spice combination.
“You some kind of gourmet chef these days?” Gunner asked in surprise.
“I don’t know about being a gourmet, but I do like to cook, and I know what kind of wine to serve with what food.”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you about eating bugs, then, should I?”
“Why on earth would you do that?” Chas responded in horror.
“When you’ve got no food, you make do.”
“You always have the means to hunt or fish or something, don’t you?”
Gunner shrugged. “Sometimes a hide runs longer than you humped in supplies for. Or you’re in a place with no game to hunt. Or you can’t move or make noise because you’re too close to hostiles. Food’s not the problem—a guy can go a couple of weeks without eating. Water’s the thing. You’ve only got about five days in the field without that before you die.”
“And on that grim note….” Chas poured two big glasses of water and carried them over to the table.
A wail from the second bedroom announced that Poppy had woken up.
“Just in time to eat with us,” Chas announced. “If you’ll go get her and pop a fresh diaper on her, I’ll finish up getting the meal served.”
“Handy being a great cook all of a sudden,” Gunner grumbled.
Chas grinned at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. An infectious joy had always clung to Chas, and it was impossible not to feel good in his presence. He was probably a great teacher.
Gunner picked Poppy out of the crib, and she snuggled against his chest, only half-awake. She was warm and soft and trusting, and something cracked inside his heart. Feelings he’d never had before flooded through him. As he laid her down on the bed to change her diaper, he tried to give them a name. Protectiveness. Affection. Even a parental urge. What was up with that? He had no desire to have a family of his own. Hell, he didn’t even have a relationship of his own—
His gaze lifted to the doorway and the man moving efficiently around the kitchenette. Chas. It was always Chas. In his life for as long as he could remember, a steady friend and loyal supporter. The guy had been a constant throughout his childhood. Maybe the only constant, in fact.
He picked up Poppy, who promptly stuck her finger in his ear and squealed with laughter when he turned his head and pretended to bite at her fingers. She did it again, and he played the game with her as he carried her to the high chair Chas was putting up.
“We were lucky to get this place,” Chas commented. “They’re really set up for kids.”
“I had no idea kids needed so much stuff.”
Chas shrugged. “We could make do without most of it. Diapers, the right food, and lots of love are pretty much the only mandatory bits. The rest of this stuff is just for convenience.”
Chas buckled Poppy into her seat, and Gunner pulled out a chair for Chas in turn.
Chas glanced up at him, his big green eyes bigger and greener than usual. “Thanks,” he murmured.
“I appreciate how you’re taking care of Poppy and me,” Gunner ventured to murmur back.
“You would do the same for her if I wasn’t here.”
Gunner snorted. “I would have no idea what to do with a kid by myself.”
“You’d figure it out.”
“Doubtful. They might as well be tiny aliens to me.”
“Cute tiny aliens,” Chas corrected as he broke bits of hamburger and french fries onto the tray in front of Poppy along with pieces of cut-up apple.
“You’re great with her.”
“I love kids.”
“Do you want to have some of your own eventually?”
“Not that eventually. I’m almost thirty.”
Fear shivered down Gunner’s spine. Chas and kids. Big commitment. Huge—
Whoa. Wait. Why did that stray thought pop into his mind? Was he subconsciously considering entering into an a
ctual adult relationship with Chas? That kind of relationship? Complete with feelings and shared lives and… shared bank accounts? Mortgages? Forever?
Abruptly, the succulent hamburger in his mouth turned to sawdust. He’d never considered settling down at all, let alone with, well, a dude. Even if Chas wasn’t just any dude. It would be a huge step—the kind he couldn’t walk back from if he took it. The whole world would know he was gay, and there would be no undoing that—
His brain hitched yet again. Would it really be so bad to fully embrace who he was and who he loved? A band of steel tightened around his chest until he struggled to draw a full breath. Sonofabitch. He was panicking.
He laid his hamburger down and pushed back from the table.
“What’s wrong? Did I overcook it?” Chas asked in alarm.
Gunner shook his head and rushed out of the cabin, grabbing his coat and shoulder holster on the way out. It was cold outside, a gray, wet afternoon with a raw wind that would knock down most of the rest of the fall foliage by tomorrow. It made for quiet movement through the trees, though. He made a full circuit around the cabin, mostly by rote as his brain spun out in every direction and that steel band refused to loosen.
All of his life had been one giant lie. He’d known he was gay since he’d been about fourteen but had refused to acknowledge it. Granted, his old man had been part of that. The bastard had never missed a chance to bash Chas for being gay once the boys had reached their teens and Chas had come out. The only reason his father had let him and Chas continue to hang out together was because it hadn’t ever crossed the bastard’s mind that his own son might also be gay. Gunner had known if he ever admitted to being interested in a boy that he’d have been lucky to live another day.
He’d spent his entire adult life assuming that being gay meant never having a family of his own. Never having a partner to love and live out his days with. He’d been so stupid. So stuck in denial. So afraid to allow himself to be happy. Hell. Had all the past lonely years been some elaborate means of punishing himself for being who he was?
He made another full circuit of the cabin, this one wider. He memorized terrain, scoped out possible escape routes, and considered how he would assault the cabin if he were a bad guy.
Gradually, as the shock of really owning the idea of being able to be both gay and happily in love sunk in, it dawned on him that nothing had ultimately changed. He was still a SEAL, he was still out here doing recon, he would still protect Chas and Poppy from whoever was after them. He was still… himself.
The panic eased slowly as he made a third circuit around the cabin, this one nearly all the way to the base of the hill and back. There was too much brush and cover for his comfort. Too easy for hostiles to sneak up on the cabin. But hopefully whoever’d shown up at that last hotel was on their way to Canada now, fruitlessly chasing the truck he’d planted the tracking burr in.
When he returned to the cabin, Poppy was parked on the floor in front of the television watching some kiddy show with lots of bright colors and noise. She was enthralled. Chas had cleaned up after the meal and was dozing on the sofa behind Poppy.
“Go take a nap. I’ll take baby duty for a bit,” Gunner murmured.
“You sure?”
“We’ll need to tag team the munchkin to make this op work. I’ll take a nap later and be awake the rest of the night. Get some rest while you can.”
“We’re a team?” Chas asked cautiously.
“Yeah. I guess we are.”
Chapter Nine
CHAS WOKE up feeling refreshed and took over Poppy duty. Gunner looked frazzled after a couple hours of cartoons and peekaboo, which amused Chas to no end. “Parenthood’s not as easy as it looks, is it, Mr. Commando?”
“Hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Gunner replied deadpan. But Chas thought he heard a note of honesty in the remark.
“What’s the game plan for tonight?”
Gunner replied immediately—obviously he’d been thinking about it. “I’ll sleep for a few hours. When you get tired, wake me up and I’ll stand guard. Hostiles tend to attack late at night when everyone’s asleep or not functioning at full capacity.”
“You think we’re still in danger?” he asked quickly.
“I think an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of shitshow.”
“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”
Gunner shrugged. “I stand by it. I’d rather be cautious and not get caught with my ass hanging in the wind.”
“Hmm. I rather like the idea of your ass hanging out.”
Gunner’s gaze snapped to his, and Chas held his breath for a moment until Gunner grinned and rolled his eyes.
Okay, then. Gunner was settling into the idea of being in a relationship with him. This was good. Very good.
Gunner retreated to the adult bedroom, and Chas turned his attention to Poppy. She was repeating the sounds from the TV, and he thought he detected an Asian accent in her pronunciation. Was she from overseas? Startled, he spent a while trying to capture audio of her baby babble with his cell phone. Maybe one of Gunner’s contacts could identify where she was from by the things she was saying.
He pointed at his chest and said, “Chas,” clearly and slowly.
She mimicked him, enjoying the game but saying “Chi” instead. He laughed in delight and said again, “Chas.”
“Chichi,” she said clearly. She squealed, and he shushed her quickly. Hopefully Gunner had worn earplugs to bed.
They played and watched more cartoons until she started to get tired and cranky, and then he gave her a quick bath, popped her into her jammies, and gave her a bedtime bottle. She snuggled against him trustingly, and he was pleased that she seemed to be recovering from her recent trauma.
If they could just keep her life calm for a while and establish a routine for her until they found her parents, maybe she would come out of this mostly unscathed. He knew from working with little kids that they were resilient beings if they were just given love, support, and a chance to thrive.
He laid Poppy down in her crib and stretched out on the bed in her room. He woke up to the vibration of his phone at midnight. Time to go wake up Gunner. He rolled out of bed and padded barefoot into the other bedroom. It might have a king-sized bed in it, but Gunner sprawled across most of it on his stomach, out cold.
Chas tugged back the sheet to bare Gunner’s muscular back and grimaced at the patchwork of bruises. He bent down to kiss Gunner’s shoulder carefully on an unbruised spot.
Gunner groaned a little, but his eyes stayed closed. Placing a knee on the bed beside him, Chas kissed his way lightly across Gunner’s shoulder blade to his spine, where he headed south, down the indentation there, lined with ridges of hard muscle. Pushing aside the sheet as he went, he approached the rise of muscular buttocks, and he swirled his tongue in the faint dimple at the base of Gunner’s spine just short of where that glorious ass began.
Gunner moved lazily beneath him, awake now but clearly enjoying the attention. Inspired, Chas shifted position, kneeling between Gunner’s spread thighs, and commenced massaging those powerful legs, working his way down Gunner’s thighs and calves, digging his thumbs into the arches of his feet until Gunner groaned faintly. Back up his legs Chas massaged, kneading and rolling the heavy muscles under his palms.
He added his mouth to the massage, sucking the backs of Gunner’s knees until he squirmed a little. Ticklish, huh? Good to know. He nipped and kissed his way up the back of one thigh until he reached the junction. He hesitated for a second and then decided to go for it. Pushing Gunner’s thighs wider apart, he lightly licked Gunner’s balls.
Loving the gasp that elicited, he slurped his way up the underside of Gunner’s cock, which was already wide-awake. The thick vein there pulsated under his tongue, and when he swirled his tongue around the tip of Gunner’s cock, a drop of precum already had gathered there.
Gunner’s erection pulsed against the mattress beneath Chas’s mouth, and the gathered te
nsion in Gunner’s entire body enveloped him.
Prepared to torture Gunner a little, he left off the sucking and licking and kissed his way back up Gunner’s spine until his entire body lay on top of Gunner’s.
He murmured against the side of Gunner’s neck, “Are you ready to do this properly, or are we going to pretend all you want is the occasional blow job?”
With one quick heave, he was flipped on his back with Gunner looming over him in the darkness. “Don’t tease me, Chasten.”
“Who’s teasing?”
“You sure you want to go the whole way? There’ll be no going back.”
“My dude, there’s already no going back. You just haven’t admitted that to yourself yet.” It was a risk pushing Gunner this hard. But the guy had been living in this stupid limbo for all of his adult life. It was time somebody shoved him off the fence.
Gunner stared down at him for a long time. And then slowly, slowly, inch by inch, he lowered his face to Chas’s. Gunner’s lips brushed across his. Another light kiss. As if he was testing this new relationship thing out.
Chas waited patiently, letting Gunner set the pace. Gunner planted an elbow on the pillow beside his head and leaned down again, this time kissing him more firmly. Chas opened his mouth, welcoming Gunner home at long last.
Gunner’s tongue swept into his mouth, and Chas moaned in the back of his throat. He’d been waiting for this, imagining this, dreaming of this, forever. He let his hand creep up to the back of Gunner’s powerful neck and tugged a little, inviting him even deeper into the kiss.
It was Gunner’s turn to groan, the sound muffled by their lips and tongues, now sparring with each other in a sexy duel that had Chas’s cock filling eagerly and his hips rocking forward.
“I don’t…,” Gunner mumbled against his lips.
“Don’t what?” he echoed, praying he wasn’t chickening out.
“Don’t, umm, know exactly how to do this.”
Chas could have cried in relief. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you. I’ll show you what to do.”
