by A. P. Eisen
The fight drained out of Chase, and he sank to the floor at Paul’s feet and began to cry. Disgust mingled with sympathy for the young man.
“Get him booked and to the hospital. He needs to detox. Call his mother too.” Paul tipped his chin to the female officer who was hit. “You okay?”
She rubbed her side. “Yeah. It was only glancing. He barely touched me.”
“Okay, good.”
They hauled Chase away, and Paul returned to his desk, wrote up his report on Radcliffe, then sat for a while, mulling over what Ulrich’s son had said. Did he mean he’d threatened his father? Did he try and blackmail his father too because he found out he was screwing around with Shane? If so, that made Chase a prime suspect as well. Paul could picture that scenario—the young man following his father to the park and bashing him over the head with something. Especially if he was high.
Paul got a package of peanut-butter crackers from the vending machine and a week-old expired yogurt one of the sympathetic desk clerks found for him in the refrigerator. He rubbed his head as he ate, trying to stave off a headache. He wrote up the incident with Chase Ulrich and put it into the report. His phone buzzed. Shit. He’d forgotten to text Cliff. He unlocked the screen to see the most recent text had come from Rob.
Annabel’s okay. Going home. Talk later. Thx.
Okay, good, he answered.
Next he texted Cliff: Can I come with you to meet your parents? I don’t want you to be alone.
Cliff’s response to his text came immediately. One word: Yes.
His headache gone, Paul entered his report on the computer, and smiling to himself, left the precinct.
CHAPTER TWELVE
For the past several minutes, Cliff had attempted to start work, but each time he’d stop and return to his phone to look at the message Paul sent him to make sure it wasn’t an illusion. Even now as he stared at it, the words swam before his eyes and he had to blink.
Can I come with you to meet your parents? I don’t want you to be alone.
To say he was stunned would be an understatement. Flabbergasted might be a better term. Whatever it was, Cliff couldn’t keep the tiny thrill of joy from shooting through him. It was a huge step for both of them. For Cliff, it would be the first time he’d be meeting his parents after they’d agreed to accept him, and with a partner.
For Paul, it was life-altering. He’d be coming out to Cliff’s parents, whom he’d never met before, and acknowledging himself as Cliff’s partner. At least that was what Cliff believed, although Paul hadn’t said anything specific.
What else could it mean?
The day passed swiftly, and the next time he looked at the clock, it was six p.m. Paul was due soon, and Cliff found he needed a little shot of courage. He ordered two Scotch and sodas on ice. Not that he intended to drink it all, but perhaps a sip would steady his nerves. A knock sounded on his door.
“Come in,” he said, expecting the waiter with his drinks.
Instead, Paul’s large body filled the doorway, his dark head peeking around the door. “Am I early? I couldn’t sit around the station waiting, and I’d had enough of the day.”
Elated at the sight of Paul, Cliff waved him in. “No, are you kidding? I ordered us a drink.”
On cue, another knock sounded.
“Come on in.” This time it was the waiter with their drinks on a tray. “Thanks, Kevin.”
“No problem, Cliff.” He withdrew, leaving them alone.
Cliff took a tumbler and handed it to Paul. “Here you go.” He raised the one in his other hand. “Cheers.”
With a tip of the glass, Paul took a healthy sip, then set the glass down on the desk and pulled Cliff to him.
“Hello and thank you for this.” He dipped his head down and pressed their lips together. His tongue slid inside Cliff’s mouth, and Cliff sucked on it, tasting the sharp whiskey.
“You’re welcome, and if that’s how you’re going to react, I should do this every night.”
Paul’s eyes twinkled at him. “You won’t hear me complaining.” He grew serious. “It was rough without Rob today. He texted me that Annabel will be coming home, but I don’t know how long it’ll take her to recuperate.”
“I can’t imagine. Solving a murder case is hard enough when there are two of you, but by yourself, it must be even more challenging.”
“I hope it won’t be too long, for all our sakes.”
They drank a bit more, and Cliff shut down his computer and slipped on his suit jacket. “Ready to go? I told my father I’d be there between six and six thirty.”
“Whenever you want. I’m here for you. We can take my car and come back to my place tonight if you’d like.”
“That would be nice.”
They left, and Cliff slid into the passenger seat. They drove for a few minutes before Cliff said, “Thank you for offering to come with me. It means a lot.”
Paul, stopped at a red light, darted a quick glance at him. “You had to know I’d want to be there. I told you I’m here to support you any way I can.”
The light turned green, and Paul accelerated.
“How should I introduce you? Friend, boyfriend…” Fearing the conversation might be drifting to a sensitive subject, Cliff stopped speaking, figuring Paul would let him know.
“You can call me whatever you need to.”
“You won’t mind me telling my parents that you and I are together?”
A glimmer of something came and went in Paul’s eyes, so quickly, Cliff couldn’t be sure he actually saw anything.
“Not unless you do.”
“I don’t want you to have to out yourself to someone you don’t know. How about we let it happen naturally?”
“Fair enough.”
“How did the investigation go today?” Cliff asked, and they were off to the races.
“Different because I was alone. Rob and I usually play good cop, bad cop.”
Cliff snorted. “Yeah, I wonder which one you get to play.”
“Hey,” Paul said, “I can be nice.”
Cliff laid a hand on Paul’s muscular thigh. “Oh, I know. Trust me. You can be very nice.” He gave him a squeeze. “I’ve been the beneficiary of your good behavior.”
Two red spots rose on Paul’s cheeks. “Well, you know what I mean. And it’s so damn easy for Rob.”
“It’s okay.” Cliff leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I like you just the way you are.”
The red flush deepened, and Cliff shook away thoughts of being alone with Paul later that night. First, they’d have to get through this, and as pleasurable as it was seeing his father’s name pop up on his phone, Cliff didn’t for one moment think it would be all smooth sailing.
They parked in the visitors’ lot, and after entering the hospital and receiving their passes from the receptionist, took the elevator up to his mother’s room. From the vantage point down the hallway he could see her up and talking to someone with a smile on her face. She wore a brightly colored kerchief around her head, and with a pang, Cliff remembered her beautiful, thick auburn hair.
“Cliff.” She spotted him and stopped speaking. A step or two behind him, Paul was visible to his mother as well, and he saw her brows rise. “Come in. You remember Angela Franklin?”
Cliff certainly did. She was in his mother’s church group and liked to brag that she was a descendant of Benjamin Franklin.
“Hello, Angela. Nice to see you again. This is Paul Monroe. He’s a detective with the Thornwood Police Department.”
His father, who was sitting in the other chair, nodded. “Nice to meet you. I have the utmost respect for the police.”
“Oh yes,” Angela twittered. “You look familiar. I think I’ve seen you on television.”
After the arrest of Amy Parsons for Jerry Gregoria’s murder, several stations had popped by, and Paul and Rob had given interviews.
“Paul Monroe, ma’am. You might’ve, especially after we solved our last homicide.” Paul’s
gaze touched briefly on Angela who’d turned thoughtful, but then he focused on Cliff’s father and mother. “Nice to meet you, sir. And Mrs. Baxter, I’m very happy you’ve been feeling better.”
“Thank you. It’s one of the first days I feel slightly human. It’s very nice to meet you as well.”
Angela, who had never been good at taking a hint, sat and watched them with avid eyes, and Cliff figured to be as bluntly polite as possible.
“Angela, thank you so much for coming to see my mother. I’m sure you’ll want to get home before dinnertime.”
“Oh, what? Yes. Yes of course.” Her bright, shrewd gaze settled on Paul, and Cliff tensed. “Monroe? You lived on North Hawthorne, right?” At his nod, her chatter continued. “I used to know your parents. Your mother and I did the bake fairs at church together. I was sorry to hear about her and your brother.”
Only because he now knew Paul so well could Cliff tell how affected he was. The edges of his lips whitened, and his jaw hardened to granite, but his voice remained deceptively calm and controlled.
“Thank you.”
She hurried out, and then they were left alone.
His mother addressed Paul. “You’re Teresa and Jimmy Monroe’s son? I thought we’d heard you’d become a policeman.”
“Yes.”
“And a good friend of Cliff’s?”
“Yes.”
His father said nothing.
“Well. Thank you for coming. It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad Cliff has people he can count on in his life.”
“Ma’am, Cliff is a great guy, and I’m proud to be there for him.”
“You’re dancing around. Why not come out and say it?” His father gripped the handles of his chair. “You’re his boyfriend, right? His partner? Whatever you call it.”
“Dad. It’s not up to you to tell Paul what to say. What’s most important to me is that I know Paul is someone I can count on to be there for me if I need him. Not only did he save my life when I was held at knifepoint by a murderer, he’s helped me in more ways than you can know.”
“I-I’m glad, Cliff.” He swung around to his mother. She looked so small and white sitting up in the bed, and he rushed to her side.
“Mom. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I wanted Paul to come here with me, in case I needed someone to lean on.”
“It’s a terrible thing for a child to feel they might need protection from their parents.”
He and Paul remained silent.
“We’re going to have to take it slowly.”
His father sat next to his mother on the bed and took her hand. “I said it to Cliff yesterday. It might take some getting used to, but I’d rather have him here and us working on our issues together than apart.”
It wasn’t the warm and fuzzy response he’d wished for, but that wasn’t his father’s way.
A nurse stepped inside the room. “Visiting hours are over.”
Cliff smiled at her. “We’ll be leaving in a few minutes.” Once she left, he continued. “I think as long as we’re respectful of each other and don’t aim to be hurtful, we’ll be okay.”
Paul had remained silent throughout, but his mother wasn’t about to let them leave without acknowledging him.
“You saved our son’s life, and I can never thank you enough.”
“You’re welcome. It was three months ago. Did you see it on the news?”
He too had wondered if his parents had known and chosen to ignore it since he was fine.
“No. That was the time of my diagnosis, and neither of us was paying much attention to anything else but what was going on with me. We were so busy running from one place to another—doctors, hospital, tests—and I was so weak, that by the time the evening rolled around, I was asleep by seven most nights.”
“How long will your chemo treatment be for?” Cliff held her hand, her skin as fine and dry as the outside of an onion.
“Six months. I’ve had three rounds so far. Only three more to go.”
“I wish you the best of luck.” Paul gave her one of his rare but charming smiles.
“Oh, thank you. I hope…I hope you’ll come see me again at home. Normally the treatment is outpatient, but I have such a bad reaction to the chemo, they’ve kept me. I hope I can go home in the morning now that the new drugs seem to be working.”
“Let’s hope so. It’s much better to be home and in your own bed.”
Cliff kissed her good night and faced his father. “It was good to see you again, Dad. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Good. Hopefully we won’t ever have to stay overnight again after another treatment.”
“Good night, sir.” Paul reached out his hand, and his father shook it. Cliff knew he was mentally sizing Paul up, and pride swelled within him. Paul never came out on the short end of anything.
They walked out to the parking lot and to Paul’s car. Once inside, Paul sat behind the wheel without starting the engine.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared than facing your parents.”
From a man who’d looked down the barrel of a gun and dealt with murderers, it sounded incongruous.
“Really? You of all people to say that.”
“You don’t get it. It’s my job, so I detach. Yeah, it’s scary, but I’m not emotionally connected. Except when Amy held a knife to your neck. Like Rob with Annabel last night. She means everything to him. You…you mean…you’re special to me.”
Cliff didn’t mind that Paul had choked on the words. The fact that he placed Cliff in the same universe of relationships as his best friend and wife stunned him.
“You’re special to me too. I think we should go home and be special to each other.”
“What about dinner?” Paul started the car.
Cliff leaned over and kissed his cheek. “We can order in.”
Later, Cliff lay naked with Paul on his bed, kissing his firm, muscular chest. Paul too was naked, and they couldn’t stop touching each other. Paul’s hands roamed over his back and flirted with the dip of his spine leading to the cleft between his ass cheeks.
“You like that.” His voice rumbled deep in the quiet of the darkened bedroom.
“How can you tell?” Cliff worked his way down, swirling his tongue through the dark trail of hair on Paul’s taut, flat belly. Paul’s thick, gorgeous cock lay inches from Cliff’s face, but he held off, wanting to keep Paul on the edge.
“You’re dripping all over me,” Paul said, his voice filled with laughter. “Every time I touch you here”—he brushed a finger against Cliff’s hole, and Cliff twitched—“I feel a drop.”
“Seems a shame to waste it for both of us, don’t you think?” Cliff shimmied around on the bed, and they lay side-by-side so his cock was over Paul’s face while Paul’s rested by his mouth. “I’m game if you are.”
“This isn’t like any game I ever played.”
“You’ve obviously been missing out. Time you had some fun, Detective Monroe.” Cliff sucked Paul’s big cock down to the base of his throat, dragging his lips up and around, while his tongue kept up a steady flutter. Paul’s rich taste filled his mouth, and Cliff closed his eyes, sinking into the man like a second skin.
Paul gave Cliff the rough friction he craved, lapping at the soft, wet head of his cock with the flat of his tongue. They fell into a rhythm where Cliff rose and Paul fell, their hips rolling, tongues licking, lips sucking. Beneath Cliff’s grasping fingers, the muscles of Paul’s thighs tensed, the first indication he was close. Paul did something wild with his mouth around the sensitive part of the crown, and Cliff shivered. He did it again, and Cliff almost lost his capacity to breathe. Cliff slid a finger past Paul’s taint, and a strangled sound escaped him. When he ran a finger lightly around the outside of his rim, Paul’s shaft swelled and streams of come shot down Cliff’s throat. A second later, Paul clamped his lips around Cliff hard and took him deep while teasing his fingers down the cleft of Cliff’s ass.
“Ohhhh.” Electrif
ied from the soles of his feet to his head, Cliff exploded, his vision swimming. He blinked several times before he was able to move. He managed to flop onto his back and glimpsed Paul, his chest heaving, breathing hard.
“I might have to have you arrested for murder because you almost killed me.”
Paul waved a weak hand in the air and let it drop to the bed. “I surrender. Put me away.”
Cliff managed to work his way up to slide in next to Paul and rest his head on his shoulder. When they first got together, he’d hesitated about cuddling. Paul Monroe didn’t give off those cuddling vibes. But Cliff soon learned that the man Paul showed the world was different than the one sharing his bed. That Paul was a man who held hands and tangled his feet with Cliff’s. He was a man who woke him up with kisses down his spine.
And Cliff loved both Pauls. The strong, dedicated, focused Paul was a turn-on, but tonight, after the emotional scene with his parents, Cliff needed the softer side of Paul.
“Thanks for being there with me tonight. It meant a lot to me.”
“I was surprised your mother remembered my family.”
“She knew how close Harley and I were.” Paul stiffened underneath him, and Cliff hurt for Paul.
“One day we’ll talk about it. Just not tonight.”
“Whenever you’re ready, I’m here for you.”
Paul kissed his cheek. “I like the sound of that.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Even though he knew it was a long shot, Paul looked for Rob at his desk when he walked into the station that morning. He settled into his chair, and while waiting for his computer to boot up, he pulled out his phone and sent him a text.
How’s it going?
Better. Annabel came home last night.
Good. Is she feeling better?
His phone rang.
“This is stupid,” Rob said, and Paul grinned at the familiar grouchy morning behavior of his best friend and partner. “Why am I texting you when we can talk? I’m not a teenager.”
