The Innocence Series: Complete Bundle

by Riley Knight

  At least he’d been helping around Mike’s shop. The backlog of cars was half cleared out already, and Gunner had already learned a ton. He seemed to have a talent for working with his hands—only he had never really realized it until he had gotten the chance to try. Not fully, anyway.

  “Someday I’m gonna get my hands on that beauty,” Gunner murmured, not really realizing that he’d spoken out loud until he heard Mike laughing. Sam was around, too, doing an oil change and actually more or less doing it right, this time. Not that Gunner was watching.

  “Don’t count on it, kid,” Mike said, smirking a little, but there was an undertone of warning in his voice as he laid his hand on the sheet which covered his pride and joy, the Jaguar. Gunner knew, even just from his few days around this joint, that Mike would pretty much die for that car.

  Who could blame him? It was a beautiful car. Gunner’s fingers itched to touch it, to drive it, to listen to the purr of the engine. But somehow, Mike didn’t seem that interested in letting Gunner try. No shock there.

  Shadow wandered over, sniffing at Gunner’s fingers and then licking them. Gunner leaned down and gave the sweet dog some scratches behind his ears, making the black lab sit down and blink his trusting, lovely golden brown eyes at Gunner.

  He was a good dog. Gunner had tried to keep his distance, because what point was there in getting attached? But Shadow was the sort of dog who wanted to make friends with everyone, it seemed, and it turned out that it was just pretty much impossible for Gunner to resist those big, pleading eyes.

  “Shadow, heel,” Sam commanded, and Gunner rolled his eyes. Sam’s pettiness really didn’t seem to have any limits. He was constantly calling his dog back whenever Shadow showed any interest in Gunner. And when Ruby tried to talk to Gunner, Sam was always right there to distract her, to bring her attention back to him.

  It was just ridiculous, the sort of nonsense that let Gunner know he was right to think that he needed to take off as soon as he could.

  “Hey, Mike?” Gunner asked as he turned back to the car that he was working on. Mike grunted, which Gunner took to mean that he was listening, so he continued on. “When do you think that part is going to get here, man? Tomorrow?”

  “Should be tomorrow,” Mike confirmed, and Sam let out a little huff of air that Gunner was certain was one of relief. The sooner they were out of each other’s hair, the better.

  “Okay. Awesome,” Gunner said and then winced as Shadow started to run around the shop, apparently chasing dust motes. Mike wasn’t going to like that, he knew.

  “Sam, keep your dog controlled or you can’t bring him to work anymore,” Mike scolded, and Sam reached out, snagging Shadow by his collar and holding him tightly in response.

  “It’s not his fault. He’s bored,” Sam protested. He stroked over the dog’s sleek head, and even if Gunner found him to be a pain in the ass, he couldn’t deny that it was cute to see the two of them bonding like that.

  Mike turned to look, too, and something softened in his eyes. Gunner had noticed that the guy was pretty much all bark, no bite, acting gruff to cover the teddy bear that he was inside. Gunner liked him a lot, actually, and he was on the growing list of people that Gunner was going to find himself missing by the end of this.

  “Take him for a walk,” Mike ordered, turning back to the engine he was tinkering with. “You go with him, Gunner. It’s lunchtime for you both, anyway.”

  Gunner rolled his eyes, and he looked at Sam, who was, unsurprisingly, doing the same. It was hardly a secret that they didn’t get along, so Gunner wasn’t sure why Mike would try to toss them together like that. But it probably wasn’t worth fighting over, so he shrugged at Sam and the two of them, plus Shadow, left the shop together.

  “Doesn’t he have a leash?” Gunner wondered, because Sam just walked, nothing connecting him to the dog. To be fair, Shadow trotted along at his heels well enough, cheerful and cooperative now that he’d gotten outside, but Gunner wasn’t really used to dogs being walked without leashes.

  “Wow.” Sam shook his head, a sort of disgusted wonder on his face. “You really just have to criticize me for everything I do, don’t you? I know how to walk my dog, thanks. I’m not a complete idiot.”

  Gunner sighed, his shoulders drooping. No matter what he tried to say to Sam, the touchy young man always took it the worst possible way. Gunner really hadn’t meant to pick a fight, but it seemed like Sam was always ready for one, at least when it came to him.

  “Fine, never mind, forget it,” Gunner muttered, pushing his hands into his pockets as he moved through the early afternoon heat. It felt like an oven here, dry and so hot that he could swear he saw it radiating up off of the ground.

  The sullen silence stretched between them, and Gunner wanted to break it. But anything that he could think of to say, Sam would surely take offense to. Hell, Gunner was becoming pretty sure that Sam could take offense to the sun rising in the morning, he was just that sort of guy.

  So he walked, and he tried not to think of one specific way that he knew he could break the tension between them. It would be so easy just to take him by the hand, tug him behind a tree or a building, and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. But he’d promised himself that he wasn’t going to do anything like that, not anymore.

  On they went, with nothing between them other than a silence thick enough, heavy enough, that Gunner was starting to think that it might take a machete to hack through it. He looked at Shadow, who seemed to be utterly immune to the heat, like all of these other insane people.

  In fact, Shadow seemed as perky as ever. Full of energy, trotting along the hot pavement, he was soon running off. Just a short distance at a time, and then he would come right back, but it made Gunner a bit nervous.

  “It’s fine,” Sam spoke abruptly, utterly unexpectedly. “He just knows we’re close to the park. He likes it there.”

  Had Sam just actually spoken to Gunner like a normal human being? Or almost, anyway? Gunner wanted to say something, anything, back, but the comment was just one instance of Sam being reasonable, even nice, in his own way. It was like tiptoeing around quicksand to be around him because any stray step could send him sinking down into the ground.

  The park was nice, at least. Shadow led them into it, and it was pretty, planted with nice, big trees with long, leafy fronds to cast lots of shade. Gunner leaned against a trunk and wiped his forehead, unsurprised to find that it was dripping with sweat. Did these Texans have lava in their veins or something? Sam didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

  Gunner glanced over at Sam, taking in his strong, classic profile, straight nose and high forehead and beautifully formed lips. Why did he have to be so gorgeous, anyway? Why did he have to bring Gunner’s mind to some very dirty places so easily?

  Just as he turned his head away, he caught Sam moving, saw his head rotate around to look at Gunner. For a moment, their eyes caught, and something hotter than even the summer Texan air around them sizzled between them.

  It was just for a second, and Gunner was left wondering if he’d seen it at all. Well, even if he had, even if it hadn’t been his imagination, the longing in Sam’s eyes, it wasn’t like Sam would ever admit to it.

  Gunner broke the gaze, and glanced around the park, desperate for something, anything, to get his attention. His eyes narrowed when he realized that he wasn’t seeing much of anything. At all.

  Trees, and grass, and some forlorn, abandoned playground equipment. That was it, and that was notable because there was no happy black puppy anywhere. No trace of Shadow, and Gunner looked around more earnestly.

  “Uh, Sam?” Gunner was finally able to break the silence because he was pretty sure that Sam was going to want to know about this. “I don’t see Shadow.”

  For a moment, Gunner was sure that Sam was going to make some sort of pointed, nasty comment, probably with one of those superior looks like Gunner was nothing but trash. But then Sam turned to look, and those lovely jade eyes of his wide
ned as panic filled them.

  “Shadow!” Sam called, and there was a bark, but one that came from surprisingly far away. Shadow was a good dog, well trained if a bit rambunctious. He didn’t tend to be the type to wander off, and Sam and Gunner shared a look and then started to run.

  There was an area of the park where the trees grew thicker, and that was where they headed. As they got closer, Gunner heard the sound of running water. With one more look at each other, united in their worry, Sam and Gunner pushed into the trees, following the sounds of the barking.

  The stupid dog had seen something, maybe a squirrel, maybe a bird, maybe just a bug, and was chasing merrily after it, heedless of anything going on around him. The river was clearly low, running well below the high water marks, which wasn’t surprising, given that it was the summer and it didn’t exactly rain a ton here.

  But the water was running, and Shadow was barking and prancing happily at the edge of it, his canine face turned up to the overhanging trees, scanning the green for whatever little critter had brought him here in the first place.

  “Shadow!” Sam called out, his voice hoarse and desperate, and it was then that Gunner realized just how much this dog meant to Sam. This was not just a dog, this was pretty much Sam’s best friend, and Gunner shook his head.

  Damn it. He hated when Sam had to go and be a human being instead of a bratty, stuck up monster. It was much easier to dislike him when he was talking down to Gunner, than when he looked like he was going to cry.

  Shadow turned to look, and that’s when it all started to go really wrong. The bank had been undercut enough that the edges of it were crumbling, and Shadow had been balancing on it just fine until Sam distracted him. Then the bank was falling, caving in, crumbling into the water, and Shadow along with it.

  There was no time to think, no time for anything but action. Gunner paused just long enough to dump his phone and wallet out of his pocket and onto the ground, and then he was off, sprinting down to the bank and tumbling into the cool, muddy water.

  It only came halfway up his legs, so that was a small mercy. He let the current push him along, his eyes scanning everywhere for the dog, but the water was brown and dark, and the dog was black, and at first, it was hard to see him.

  Dirty water came up with his frantic movements and splashed him right in the face, making his eyes sting, making it almost impossible to see. Impatiently, Gunner dashed it from his eyes with the back of his hand, and once they were clear, he gave a triumphant little shout.

  “There!” He started to wade again, and the current made it easy, pushing him along, improving his speed. Ahead of him, valiantly trying to paddle his way over to the bank, a sleek, black head broke the water, looking something like a seal or an otter but making the most pathetic whining noises that Gunner had ever heard.

  The river was slippery, the rocks which made up the base slick with slime and mud, and more than once, Gunner slid, and a few times he actually fell. So he was soaking wet by the time he made it to Shadow, who thrashed in the water, pushing at Gunner.

  “You stupid dog, I’m trying to save you,” Gunner growled, but Shadow was a big, strong dog, nearing his adult size, and he was terrified. Not to mention that he barely knew Gunner, and certainly didn’t have a lot of reason to trust him.

  “Shadow,” a soft voice called, soothing and warm and friendly, though with an undertone of near panic that Gunner sincerely hoped the dog couldn’t sense as well as he could. Gunner managed to get an arm around the freaked out animal as Shadow was distracted by his human’s voice.

  Because it was Sam who had called out, and when Gunner planted his legs, when he refused to let the current carry him or the dog any further, he chanced a quick look back. And there was Sam, proper, neat, too good to get his hands dirty Sam, standing in the water, just as soaking wet and filthy as Gunner was.

  There had been no time to think, but if Gunner had had the time, he knew that he would have assumed that Sam would stay up on the bank, try to help from there. That was part of why Gunner had been in such a hurry to get to the dog, because deep inside, he had assumed that Sam wouldn’t.

  But there Sam was, muddy from his waist all the way down, and splattered with mud even above that. There was Sam, with a beautiful, pleading look on his face, moving slowly to keep himself from falling, and, Gunner realized, to keep the already scared dog from panicking more.

  It turned out that Gunner really didn’t know Sam as well as he’d thought he did. It turned out that Sam could care about something, really truly and deeply, enough to let himself literally jump into a muddy river to protect that thing.

  And that made it just a little bit more difficult for Gunner to hate him. He had rarely seen this sort of devotion before, and when Sam got close, Gunner, for once, kept his mouth shut. He didn’t make any smartass comments, they just both put their hands on the dog and led him gently to the shore.

  Once they were all safe, Gunner turned to look at Sam, who, thankfully, was looking only at Shadow. He took in every detail of his flushed cheeks and messy hair, of the dirt that liberally decorated his lean, long body. He noted the worry glimmering in his eyes as Sam soothed Shadow, as he stroked over that shivering, wet body, the fur all matted and pressed down with the muddy water that had been all around him.

  Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated, hadn’t they? Sam’s eyes glistened with tears as he soothed the frightened animal, and all Gunner wanted to do, at that moment, was to try to soothe Sam in the same way.

  SEVEN

  Luckily for them, Mike had taken one look at the three of them, still damp and encrusted with drying mud, and he’d immediately send them home for the day. Sam’s skin itched, and he longed to be clean again, and working for the rest of the day like this would have been pretty close to his idea of hell.

  The inside of his car would never be the same, but it was sort of a piece of junk, anyway. He’d been trying to save money, buying the cheapest vehicle that he could get, and that had turned out to be a good thing since Sam was pretty sure it would always smell of flat, coppery, river water and wet dog.

  Sam didn’t dare to look at Gunner as he drove them home together. If he did, he was sure he would see something bad on his face. Something mocking, maybe, deeply unflattering. Judgment about how weak Sam was, about his lack of control over his own dog, or something.

  Gunner said nothing, and by the time they got home, Sam was really starting to itch. Irritated, he swept off his shirt, wishing he could do the same to his pants, which were really in worse shape.

  First things first.

  “Backyard, Shadow,” Sam ordered, and the dog, his tail firmly behind his legs as though he knew just how much trouble he’d caused, slunk off in the appropriate direction. Sam’s face softened into a bit of a smile when he saw him. Shadow was a good dog, but what dog didn’t get excited when there was a critter to chase around after?

  As much as it pained him to think about it, Gunner had been right. Sam needed to get a leash for the dog, who was a smart, good dog, but he was still just a dog. And so young still, despite his size. Enthusiastic and full of energy.

  Sam kept his eye on his pet as he followed him around back, which didn’t stop him from being keenly aware of it when Gunner followed him. And the worst part was, the guy had just helped him to save his dog. He couldn’t even make nasty comments to him, not when he owed him so much.

  Gunner had responded faster than Sam had. He had been in motion before Sam had really had a chance to understand what had happened fully, and for that, Sam owed him. Most people would have called for help, maybe, or followed along on the shoreline.

  Not Gunner. He had jumped right in, and the truth was, without Gunner, Sam knew that he would have had a much harder time with the whole thing. Gunner was brave, that much was clear. Brave and …

  Sam shook his head. He didn’t need to be thinking about these things, though he wasn’t sure it was going to be easy to s
top. Like it or not, Gunner had impressed him, and he was still very quiet as he pulled out the big metal tub that they used to wash Shadow. The dog was every bit as muddy, if not more so than Sam and Gunner were.

  Getting the hose, Sam started to fill the tub, and Shadow looked at him mournfully. The dog had never been all that keen on bath time, and if he got it into his head, he could be a pretty big brat about it.

  “I’ll help,” Gunner offered, and Sam shook his head, not in negation but in wonder. After everything that had happened between them, Gunner was still offering to help? Gunner did the dishes every night, and Sam had assumed that the guy was sucking up to the rest of Sam’s family, but he was starting to question himself on that.

  “Thanks.” Sam couldn’t afford to turn down the help, as much as he would like to defiantly say that he didn’t need it. He probably didn’t, but he knew it would be much more of a pain in the ass without Gunner. So he raised his head, kneeling on the ground as he looked up at the other man, meaning to meet his eyes, to show that he was sincere about wanting to thank him.

  His eyes didn’t make it all the way up to Gunner’s face, though. They snagged briefly on his flat stomach, and caught and suck completely on his strong, developed chest, his sweet brown nipples, the broadness of his shoulders.

  Gunner had taken his shirt off, too, and it was the first time that Sam had seen him in such a state. He was gorgeous, like a statue of a god, only real and breathing and alive. Broad and muscular and hard all over, Sam found that he couldn’t stop looking.

  It was just the surprise of it—he tried to tell himself. He was just shocked to find Gunner in such a state. It wasn’t because Sam wanted him. It wasn’t because he had wondered, on those two occasions when they had ended up making out, just what Gunner would look like without his clothes.

  “Okay, Shadow, c’mere, boy,” Gunner coaxed, and his low, deep voice was much less growly than usual, and pitched slightly higher, the voice a man would use with a small child. Or an animal.