by Willa Okati
The rest of him insisted on lingering, drinking in every move Nathaniel made—small, neat, precise. Aside from the height, absolutely nothing like Callum.
And absolutely fascinating.
Nathaniel cocked his head to one side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Damn. He’d gotten distracted again. Not quite like zoning out. More like zoning in. Abram took another swallow of his tea to cover the lapse. White ginger. Unreal. “Like what?”
“Like you want to kiss me.” Nathaniel touched the tip of his tongue to the bow of his lips. Abram wasn’t sure if he knew he was doing it or not. “Like you want to know what I taste like when I’m naked.”
Good God. A mouse that roared! Abram cleared his throat. “Drink your tea, and stop looking at me like you want to eat me whole. It’s flattering, but it’s hellishly distracting. Okay?”
Nathaniel frowned, but Abram supposed he hadn’t been a youngest brother all his life for nothing. He followed instructions well.
“Here’s the thing,” Abram said, once Nathaniel had taken his first sip. “If I took one lesson away from fifteen years of marriage, it’s this—not asking, and not telling, are the surest roads to hell on earth.”
Nathaniel sobered. He held the cup with both hands. Steam nearly obscured his face—no, that wasn’t right. As the steam wisped over his nose and cheeks, his color deepened, and those remarkable eyes became almost luminous. He said nothing. Just listened.
Good enough to be getting on with. “So!” Abram rapped his knuckles against the table. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer. I think you’re the kind of man who can do that. Not everyone’s capable of it.”
“Anyone would think you’re a cop or something,” Nathaniel said with a small smile.
“I get that a lot. Do we have a deal?” Abram offered one hand. “Shake on it if we do.”
Nathaniel considered him for a long moment. Long enough that Abram thought he would have paid a small fortune for a peek inside the man’s head—preferably with closed-captioning provided.
“I don’t need to shake your hand,” he said. “I trust you. But do you trust me?”
“You barely know me,” Abram pointed out.
Nathaniel refused to be deterred. He set his delicate jaw stubbornly. “Yes or no? Or are you the kind of man who can’t answer a question honestly?”
Touché. “All right, fine.” Abram rested both elbows on the table and turned his palms up. “I’ll trust you if you’ll trust me. What do you want to know?”
Now Nathaniel nibbled at the soft pink plushness of his lower lip. “It’s not exactly saying so much as…oh, hell. Here.” He pushed his right sleeve up, rolling the cotton neatly, and turned to show Abram his shoulder. “It’s not so much saying as showing. This. Showing you this. Do you see what I mean now, Abram?”
Nathaniel held his breath, and spared a thought to be grateful that Abram hadn’t had a mouthful of hot tea just then. He would have gotten a white ginger shower.
As it was, the older man went a peculiar shade of pale. “The devil you say.”
“But I didn’t say. Seeing is believing.” Nathaniel wasn’t Cade’s brother for nothing. He could stand up to a lot more than some incredulous sputtering. Though to be fair, Abram didn’t seem as if he was much of a shouter.
When Abram beckoned without saying a word, Nathaniel leaned as far over the table as he could, and let Abram take his arm. He framed the mark on Nathaniel’s shoulder with his huge dark hands, furrowing his forehead as he traced the design.
Finally, he blew out a breath. “That is…well… Okay. That’s a hell of a thing. When did—?”
“Yesterday morning.” Nathaniel withdrew as gently as he could. His heart went out to Abram. He couldn’t help it. Poor man. He looked like he’d been caught between an eighteen-wheeler and a hard place. “Then last night, at the game…when I saw you…”
“I think I’m starting to get the picture now.” Abram rubbed at his face. “Which doesn’t mean I have any idea what to say about it. It’s not possible, Nathaniel.”
“It matches yours,” Nathaniel said, stung. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t. I know. I saw that for myself.”
But Abram was shaking his head. “It matches mine now. Not all marks come in all at once. Sometimes they unfold. I’ve seen that happen. One poor bastard I knew thought he had a soulmark shaped like a vagina. Trust me, he was happier than hell when the rest of the pattern emerged.”
Nathaniel hadn’t known that. “You’re pulling my leg.”
“It’s not common,” Abram admitted. He sat back, and Nathaniel could see him starting to close himself off. Politely, yes, and kindly, sure, but walking away as fast as he could from any possibility that he could be Nathaniel’s soulmate.
Unfortunately for Abram, the best way to get Nathaniel motivated was to tell him no. He sat upright, face hot. “I’ve never heard of it before, and I’ve done my research.”
“Have you?” Abram wasn’t moved. “Then you’ll have read that it just doesn’t happen. There are no double-downs. I’m sorry, Nathaniel. It’s a compliment like I haven’t gotten in years, but it’s not possible, and I don’t want you chasing shadows.”
Didn’t he? Nathaniel seized upon that. Because while Abram might be running, he wasn’t going that fast. Yet.
Better catch up to him while he could.
“Then say it’s not possible.” Nathaniel wanted to hold his breath, but managed to make himself go on after a brief pause. “Does that mean I can’t want you anyway?”
If he’d been keeping score—or if Cade had been there—that would have counted as a knockout punch. Abram’s mouth opened and closed, making Nathaniel want to stroke his goatee and see if it was as velvety as he remembered.
But he held his ground while he had the upper hand. “You promised you’d answer a question honestly. That’s my question. And here’s another one. Do you want me?”
Abram’s lips moved in silence before he sat back with a whoof and a baffled growl.
“In words, please,” Nathaniel said. “This is the best tea I’ve ever had from the café, by the way. They must like you.”
“Yes, but do they want to jump my bones?” Abram shook his head, but from the looks of him, he might be getting his feet back under himself. The right side of his mouth lifted in a grin that was both surprisingly boyish and impressed. “You’ll know if I’m lying, won’t you?”
Nathaniel made a gesture that he hoped said, probably.
“Then I won’t bother.” And he didn’t. The look Abram favored Nathaniel with—well. Nathaniel wouldn’t have been surprised to smell smoke from the heat in it or to have gone crispy with all that fire directed at him from head to toe and back again. “God, yes. I want you enough to do something very, very stupid.”
Should he press his luck? Why not? Nathaniel started to stand. “Then kiss me again.”
“Ah-ah-ah.” Abram held up a hand, palm-out, to stop Nathaniel before he got too far. He did have control of himself again, more amused than consternated. “If I start kissing you here and now, I won’t stop. And if I don’t stop, then I’ll start doing other things that could get us both arrested for doing in public. Cops tend to stay away from that kind of risk. Now, how do you like that for honesty?”
Nathaniel gulped.
Abram’s fire softened. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I did ask.” And hadn’t he received? Hoo boy. Nathaniel drank a deep draft of his tea, cool enough now for gulping. “If we were somewhere else, would you kiss me then?”
Abram’s voice was deep as the sea and dark as velvet midnight when he replied, “Yes. And I wouldn’t stop.
“Good.” Nathaniel lifted his chin. “What days do you have off work? Because I’m going to pay you a visit the first night you’re free to sleep in the next day and once I’m there, I’m going to hold you to that offer for hours. Understand?”
And just when he thought he was on solid ground a
gain, there Nathaniel went with his one-two punch. An incredulous—and pleased—laugh escaped Abram. “Callum would have loved you. Would have tucked you in his pocket and taken you home.”
“Callum being your…”
“Soulmate,” Abram said. Gently. “The one and only that anyone gets. Which doesn’t mean I don’t want you. You won that fight fair and square. But are you—?”
“Ask me if I’m sure, and I’m positive you won’t like my answer,” Nathaniel said, fixing him with a stare more arresting than most when it came from luminous amber eyes.
“Fair enough. Wednesday.”
Nathaniel blinked. Ha! Abram counted that as a victory. The kitten wasn’t the only one who knew his way around a non sequitur. “Wednesday for what?”
“You asked what day I had off work. Wednesday is it. Which means my Tuesday night is wide open.” Abram raised one shoulder, unable to keep himself from teasing a little. “Unless you’re changing your mind?”
And oh, wasn’t that like waving a red flag in front of a bull? Nathaniel lifted his head, proud as an aristocrat. “I’m not changing my mind, even if I have a soulmate who isn’t you—”
“Which it is,” Abram said, ignoring the small part of himself that protested the notion. The romantic fool likely lived in his dick, and it had nothing to complain about. “But go on.”
“Since I haven’t met him yet, there’s no reason not to enjoy you until he shows up,” Nathaniel said. “Which I’m going to. Hydrate first. I meant what I said. Once I start, I’m not going to stop.”
Abram believed him—utterly and without a second’s doubt. “Maybe I’ll be the one who doesn’t stop,” he said mildly. “Ever think about that?”
“Think about it? More like hoping for it.” Nathaniel’s grin held a hint of the edge that his older brother Cade’s smile did, and it went straight to Abram’s groin.
“Good,” was all he said in reply. “Tuesday evening it is. And for an extra challenge, I won’t give you directions. You can research me and find out where I live. But no fair asking anyone you might see at Nick and Barrett’s party tonight—if you think you can manage that.”
“I do.” Amber glowed citrine-bright with the dare. “I will, too. And you’ll believe me when you see it.” He stood, light and delicate, and dropped his tea in the trash bin—then, on the backstroke of the fluid move, bent to press a kiss to Abram’s lips. He tasted of tea, and the scent of old books, and he stroked his knuckles lightly against Abram’s cheek. “Count on that.”
Not. A. Problem. Abram whistled again as he watched the lad walk away, as calm and proud as he’d come out. As if they’d been discussing the weather.
And yet…
Abram drank the rest of his tea, drumming the tabletop in thought. He did not look at his soulmark, nor touch it, because down that road lay madness. Instead, he imagined Callum sitting across the table from him, shaking his head in silence.
“That was way too easy, wasn’t it?” he asked the ghost in his mind.
Callum’s memory snorted. “No. You think?”
Chapter Four
“Are you going somewhere?”
“Sorry, what?” Nathaniel paused with his hand on the doorknob and looked back over his shoulder. He carried a quarter-full knapsack by its top loop, and had bus fare burning a hole in his pocket. Though he’d tried, it still felt odd to plan and pack for a rendezvous with a lover, especially the first time. He didn’t doubt that’d been part of Abram’s plan. Subtract the spontaneity, and hope Nathaniel lost his nerve.
Not going to happen. Whether Abram believed it or not, he was Nathaniel’s soulmate, and he’d see that sooner or later.
Robbie looked questioningly back at him. He had a wad of paper towels in hand, wiping away the last of the garage grease and sharply scented cleanser. He nodded at the bag Nathaniel carried. “I was going to ask if you wanted to get some pizzas from that brick oven place we both like and have a night in, but I’m guessing you already have plans.”
Nathaniel knew Robbie wasn’t like Cade. He wouldn’t ask for the sake of curiosity, but out of concern, and there was a world’s worth of difference between the two. Still, he didn’t think his nerve would hold up to intense scrutiny. He nodded, praying that his cheeks wouldn’t go pink and give away more information than he wanted.
Though he should have remembered Robbie had been an oldest brother and a father figure for long enough to wrest a decent summary from a single glance. “Ah,” he said, almost under his breath as he tossed the paper towels into the kitchen trash bin. He frowned, but shook that away. “Make sure he treats you right—or she.”
“It’s a he,” Nathaniel said, biting at his lip. “And he does. I’m just…”
A hint of a smile touched Robbie’s face. “I remember what that’s like. If you change your mind, I’ll be home tonight. Ivan’s got the late shift, so it’ll only be me.”
Guilt stabbed a fork into Nathaniel’s tender heart. “I don’t want to leave you all alone.”
Robbie snorted. “Don’t worry about me. I could probably count the number of quiet nights alone I’ve had in years on one hand and still have fingers left over. But if you change your mind and you need to come home—if you want to—for any reason, then you can.” He sobered, studying Nathaniel more deeply than he usually did, forehead furrowed slightly. It made Nathaniel want to fidget, wondering what he saw there—or if this was just a brother’s caution. “And you know you can talk to me, don’t you? About anything.”
“I know.” Nathaniel found a smile, and offered it to Robbie. “Stage fright, Robbie. I’ll be fine. And if I’m not, you get first crack at him. But I will be. Okay?”
Robbie chuckled. “Now you’re sounding more like yourself. Go on, then.”
Nathaniel ducked his head in an awkward sort of goodbye and, heart pounding against his ribs, ducked out of the house they shared. Behind him, he heard Robbie chuckle again.
“And I won’t even tell Cade,” he called after Nathaniel.
Thank God for that.
* * * *
Freshly showered. Freshly shaved, with his goatee neatly trimmed. Clean shirt, still with the scent of new clinging to its crisp cut. Anyone would think Abram was looking forward to seeing if Nathaniel could track him down, after all.
He hadn’t heard a word from the amber-eyed man since Saturday, and Nathaniel had been one cool cucumber at the impromptu party Nick and Barrett had scratched up. Acted as if he and Abram were no more than bare acquaintances.
Which should have been a good thing. Not unsettling. And yet…
And yet. Abram sighed and scratched idly at his soulmark. Itched a bit, but the short sleeves he’d chosen chafed at his arms. When he pushed his collar down and craned his neck to get a better look, it seemed the same as ever. Mostly colorless and completely quiescent, its purpose served.
Honestly, he hated letting Nathaniel down almost more than anything.
He tried to focus on the DVD player, which seemed to be broken. Again. According to the digital clock on its battle-scarred casing, the time was precisely 27:89. “Piece of junk,” he muttered, giving it a sharp rap.
“Piece of outdated junk. When are you going to admit it’s a lost cause and move on?”
Abram wasn’t delusional enough to believe Callum had actually, literally answered him. Only, after fifteen years with a man most charitably described as intense, it wasn’t hard at all to hold an imaginary conversation with the memory of his former mate. “I can fix it,” he said.
“You could, but why should you? It’s doing nothing but driving you crazy.”
He imagined Callum tsking at him for that. Then, pausing. Biding his time until he judged Abram was soft enough for a killing blow. “You think he’ll show?”
“No idea,” Abram said, lying between his teeth. “Maybe not—which would be fine.”
“Yeah, right. Pull the other leg. It’s got bells attached.” In Abram’s imagination, he envisioned Callum lying comfortably d
raped across the sofa. “He’d be good for you, you know.”
Abram grumbled under his breath in response. “I’ve had a soulmate.”
“Had,” Callum pointed out. Abram could visualize, so easily, the lines in his mate’s face falling into concern. “There’s no harm in finding someone else. God knows, if you’d been the one to pass before your time, I’d have comforted myself. That’s life, Abram. It’s meant to be lived, not just existed through.” He resettled himself. “And if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t call him ‘amber-eyed’. Do you know how ridiculously romantic you sound?”
Abram bit back a grin. “Piss off.”
“Bite me,” Callum retorted. “Now answer the door, and get yourself properly laid tonight. Understand?”
Three soft knocks sounded at the front. Abram brushed aside his reverie with a sigh. Ghosts weren’t real. Nor were second-soulmates. So thinking, he dusted off his knees and went to see who’d come knocking. He could be wrong. Might be Jehovah’s Witnesses—or encyclopedia salesmen.
Though of course it wasn’t. Nathaniel himself stood on Abram’s front steps, bathed in the rich strawberry-pink light of the sun setting behind him. He looked uncertain, but blossomed from hesitation to glorious happiness when he looked up at Abram.
Abram wondered if it was possible for a human to purr, or if the warmth growing under his breastbone was what it felt like when a man started to fall in love. He meant to ask, but didn’t get a chance. Nathaniel dropped the knapsack he carried and reached up to pull Abram down to him, touching his mouth to Abram’s and making the rest of the world melt away.
God, he was so small—so light and easy to lift, like a bird, or like a butterfly. His well-shaped lips opened sweetly beneath Abram’s, yielding to him. That could go to a man’s head, having someone who wanted to mold their shape around his.
