Nothing In Common, Except ...

by Edward Kendrick

  He chuckled as he pulled into the lot beside his apartment building. “I could do it, but then I’d have to face the wrath of Judd, which isn’t worth it.”

  With that thought in mind, the first thing he did when he got into his apartment was set the alarm for eight. Then he reset it for seven, so he could call Kyle when he got up and invite him over for breakfast.

  Chapter 12

  Kyle groaned when his phone rang, waking him at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning. “Who?” he growled when he answered it.

  “Oh, boy. Did I wake you?”

  It took Kyle a second to realize it was Brax. “You did, but I’ll survive.”

  Brax chuckled. “I would hope. I’m fixing breakfast, if you want to join me.”

  “Give me time to get dressed and take a fast shower. Or maybe vice versa.”

  “I think that would be the smarter order. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  They hung up, Kyle showered and dressed—in jeans and a T-shirt—then teleported to Brax’s living room. “Something smells good,” he commented, going into the kitchen. He saw cinnamon rolls on a plate on the table. “If you tell me you baked those.”

  “Not even. I got them from my favorite bakery, hot out of their oven.” Brax came over to give him a hug and a kiss. “Scrambled, fried?”

  “Fried, over easy?”

  “You got it.” Brax cracked four eggs into the frying pan before taking slices of ham from a second pan to put their plates. “Coffee’s ready.”

  “Thank God.” Kyle poured himself a cup, noting that Brax already had an almost full one.

  By then, the eggs were cooked so they sat down to eat.

  “What’s on your agenda for the day?” Brax asked.

  “I have no clue. Got any suggestions?”

  “Play tourist and go sightseeing, hunt for an apartment, come to work with me. I can set you to doing background checks.” Brax grinned.

  “Back up a second. Hunt for an apartment?”

  Brax looked guilelessly at him. “You said, last night, you travel so much you barely see your condo in New York. You could live here and do the same thing. Then you wouldn’t have to fly across the country to come visit.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” Kyle replied, uncertain if he was shocked by the suggestion, or elated that Brax seemed to want him close by.

  “Dead serious,” Brax replied. “It’s going to be hard enough as it is, finding out if what we feel for each other is the real thing. Not”—he held up a finger—“that I think it isn’t, at least on my part. The problem is, with you out there and me here, both of us involved in our work, seeing each other could be real hit-or-miss. If you rented an apartment here…” He gazed hopefully at Kyle.

  “Let me think about it?”

  “Of course. It would be a big step, I know.”

  “Not insurmountable, but yeah.” Kyle took Brax’s hand. “I do want to be close to you. Never doubt that.”

  “I don’t.” They shared a kiss, then Brax said. “I have to get moving. Judd will have my head if I’m late.”

  “Does he really get bent out of shape when that happens?”

  Brax laughed. “Only on rare occasions. Like the time those hunters shot me and I couldn’t tell him that was why. He assumed I’d had a heavy date and didn’t want to get out of their bed.”

  “He had a reason to think that?” Kyle asked, frowning.

  Brax nodded. “I’ve hardly been celibate. I doubt you have, either. That said, it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone I thought could be the man in my life on a permanent basis.”

  Kyle leaned in to hug him, saying, “I’m sorry. I was maybe, for a second there, feeling jealous. I know it was stupid.”

  “You’re forgiven,” Brax replied, taking time to kiss him rather thoroughly before getting up to clear the table. “Do you want to come with me and see how a primo private detective spends his day?”

  Kyle grinned. “Sure. Why not?”

  * * * *

  “I feel like a kid during one of those bring you child to work days,” Kyle said two hours later. “It’s not that I don’t find watching you teach your client the ins-and-outs of their new security system interesting, or keeping Lynn company while you interviewed that new client, but…”

  “You’re bored out of your gourd.” Brax grinned. “I did offer to let you do background checks.”

  “Yeah. Well.” Kyle rolled his eyes. “Tell you what. I’ll go play tourist and see all the sights I missed the last time I was here.”

  “Which is all of them.”

  “True. I’ll be back before you close and we can get some dinner, since you don’t have to stake out Ms. Edwards place.”

  “Thankfully. From what she said, the police believed her, and convinced her to get the restraining order. But then you heard my part of the conversation so you know that.”

  Kyle nodded, then gave Brax a decent kiss since the office door was closed, before heading out.

  * * * *

  Brax looked up from what he was doing when Kyle came into his office just before six. “Did you get to see all the sights?” he asked, grinning.

  Kyle waggled his hand. “Maybe not all, but I did see some interesting buildings,” he replied, dropping down in the client’s chair beside Brax’s desk.

  “We have those?”

  “Believe it or not. There’s one that really impressed me. I’ll show you on our way to dinner.”

  “A tour of the city’s architectural wonders? Hell, why not.” After shutting down his computer, they took off, with Brax locking up since Judd and Lynn had already left.

  “Show me this fabulous building,” Brax said when they were in his car. “Then we can decide where to eat.”

  When they pulled out of the lot, Kyle gave him the address, which Brax programmed into his GPS, commenting, “You really did tour the city. It must have cost you a fortune in cab fares.”

  “Uh-uh. I rented a car, once I figured out what I wanted to see. I left it back at the hotel when I was finished since I figured we wouldn’t need two cars tonight.”

  The area they were heading to was in what Brax knew was an older part of the city. One that had recently been revitalized and turned into an arts district. They drove past several galleries, interspersed with small restaurants and shops.

  “Turn right at the next corner,” Kyle said at the same time that the GPS said, “Turn right in one hundred feet, then drive seventy feet to your destination.”

  “You almost beat her to it,” Brax said with a laugh as he turned onto what looked like a residential street with homes and apartment buildings. “Can’t say that I see anything thing here that’s terribly impressive unless you’re into older architecture.”

  “Actually, I am,” Kyle replied as Brax pulled into a parking space. “Look at that one.” He pointed to an apartment building with what Brax knew was a classic Art Deco entrance.

  “Nice, I guess. Now can we go to dinner?”

  “Not yet,” Kyle said as he got out of the car. “Come on. I have to show you something.” He grinned, walking toward the building.

  At that point, Brax finally figured out what was going on. “Of all the apartment buildings in the city, why this one?”

  “It’s got class, and it’s in a good location, and the rent is reasonable, and, hell, stop questioning and take a look.” Kyle unlocked the front door of the building, leading the way into the lobby.

  It had terrazzo flooring—original, Brax was sure. There was a staircase across from where they stood with an Art Deco banister. Next to it was an elevator, much to Brax’s relief. They took it up to the third floor, then he followed Kyle down to a door, waiting while Kyle unlocked and opened it.

  “What do you think?” Kyle asked when they were inside the apartment.

  “It’s definitely…interesting,” Brax replied. The floor in the main room was polished hardwood. The woodwork around the doors and windows was mahogany; the walls w
ere painted pale beige. He took a look at the kitchen, lifting an eyebrow. “It even has the original appliances.”

  “Not really. The building manager says they’re copies, to stay true to the original décor of the place.” He opened the French doors, which had frosted glass panes, at one side of the main room. “The bedroom.”

  “Will there be any room left once you put a bed and dresser in it?” Brax quipped.

  “It’s not that small. Damn,” Kyle replied, opening the door to the bathroom. Again, the furnishings looked like they were original, with a large, claw-foot tub and pedestal sink.

  “Okay, I’ve seen it. Is it yours? I mean, have you rented it?”

  “It will be once they’ve checked all my references.” Kyle sighed. “You don’t like it, do you?”

  Brax turned slowly, taking it all in again. “It’s definitely not what I expected. That said, it has a definite charm, and there are plenty of windows so you won’t get claustrophobic.” Then he hugged Kyle. “The best thing is, you did decide to find a place to live here in the city. That tells me more than words that you want us to be in the same place, rather than commuting halfway across the country to see each other.”

  “Of course I do.” Kyle leaned back in Brax’s arms to look at him. “I think, in fact I’m pretty damned sure, what we have going will become permanent in time. If that makes sense.”

  “Does to me. One step at a time—and this is a big one.” They kissed, a slow, intense one that left Brax wanting more. Knowing that wouldn’t happen at the moment, Brax broke it, saying with a touch of mischief in his voice, “Now, can we go find somewhere to eat?”

  Kyle laughed. “You bet. Any suggestions?”

  “You’re surrounded by restaurants. Let’s pick one and see if it’s any good.”

  Leaving the car where it was parked, they walked down to the main street, checking the menus in the various windows before settling on a place that specialized in barbecue.

  After they’d ordered, and had their coffee, Brax said, “You’ll have to do some furniture shopping, you know.”

  “Not really,” Kyle replied. “I’ll have what I want from my condo shipped out here. I need to go back there to put it on the market, anyway.”

  “Are you certain you want to? What if…” Brax wasn’t certain he wanted to finish his thought.

  Kyle took Brax’s hand. “Don’t think negatively. Okay? As far as I’m concerned, it would take something major to destroy what we have going on between us.”

  Brax smiled wryly. “Like my returning to my former life of crime. That is not happening, for a lot of reasons, the main one being you. That said, I can’t think of anything you could do that would make me walk away.”

  “Other than arresting you for past crimes and misdemeanors?” Kyle quipped.

  “You’re not a cop, or a Fed, so you can’t do that,” Brax told him. “Besides, if you were going to, you’d have done it already.”

  “True. And I haven’t. I decided soon after we met that I wouldn’t, if it turned out I was right about what you were doing. I knew there was a good, decent man somewhere inside.” Kyle took a drink of coffee, gazing at Brax over the rim of the cup. “I was right.”

  Brax smiled. “It just took someone like you…No, not like. It took you to bring it out.”

  “And I got you as a reward for doing it.”

  Brax leaned in to give him a quick kiss. “That you did. Not sure I’m a real prize, but…”

  “In my eyes you are,” Kyle replied softly before sitting back so the waiter could set down their meals.

  Chapter 13

  Kyle left the next morning, promising he’d be back in two weeks, “Come hell or high water.”

  While he was gone, Brax carried on as usual—or mostly as usual. He refrained from telling Kyle, during their almost nightly calls, about what happened during the stakeout he’d been on. The one that almost ended badly for him.

  One of the agency’s regular clients was a small insurance company. A client of theirs had been hit with a personal injury suit by a man who contended that one of the client’s fleet vehicles had rear-ended his car. He claimed, as a result, he’d suffered whiplash that left him with severe pain in his neck, shoulders, and lower back, to the point that he was unable to work. The insurance company wasn’t debating that the accident happened, but they didn’t believe the man’s injuries were as serious as he, and his doctor, said. The insurance company wanted Markham and O’Hara to prove the man was lying.

  Brax took on the case, and the stakeout. When Brax first saw the man, he was wearing a neck-brace and walking with a cane as he was helped out of the car and into his house by the guy who had been driving. A few minutes later, the driver left and Brax settled in to watch the house from his spot in a parking lot across the street, in a semi-residential area of the city.

  From his vantage point, using a pair of binoculars, he could see the man pass by the living room window a couple of times, looking as if he was definitely in pain. An hour later, the drapes were drawn and soon after, the lights went out downstairs, coming on in what Brax presumed was an upstairs bedroom a minute later. He made it up there pretty fast, considering the injuries he claims to have. Not that that was proof the man was lying, but it certainly made Brax wonder. He remained where he was until the house went dark, and for half an hour more, to be certain the man didn’t leave.

  The next day, Brax was back on the job mid-afternoon. He saw the same car as the previous evening pull up just after four-thirty, with the driver again helping the man into the house. The driver left, returning not long after with fast-food carry-out bags. Brax decided to take a walk down the alley behind the house. It was a warm night, and from behind the fence surrounding the man’s back yard, Brax could hear conversation and laughter.

  Then one of the men said, “This damned brace is driving me crazy.”

  “So take it off,” the man Brax figured was the driver replied. “It’s not like anyone can see over the fence to know you’re not wearing it.”

  “I will, once I’m inside. I’m not taking any chances…” The man’s voice faded out then Brax heard a door open and close.

  At the moment, there was nothing for Brax to do but return to his car and wait. Half an hour later the man’s friend left. That might have been that if Brax hadn’t watched the car turn the corner and turn into the alley behind his target’s house moments later.

  Now why do I have the feeling he might be going somewhere with his friend—and he doesn’t want anyone to know. Brax drove to the end of the street, pulling into a parking spot, and was rewarded a few minutes later when the car left the alley, with his target in the passenger seat. He followed at a safe distance as the car drove to a country-western bar on the far side of the city. Both men got out, the target without his brace or cane, and went into the bar. Brax gave them time to settle in before going inside. The two men were at a table beside the dance floor, beers in front them, two women seated with them. Brax found a place where he could watch without being seen, using his phone to take several shots of his target, first sitting with him arm around one of the women, then dancing with her.

  “Got you,” he said under his breath, leaving the bar. He’d just entered the bar’s parking lot when he heard footsteps behind him. Instinctively, he turned, just in time to avoid major damage from the knife the driver used to stab him. As Brax pulled his rarely-carried gun from its holster at the back of his waist, he could feel pain radiating from a deep wound along his side, then saw blood soaking his shirt.

  “Give me your phone,” the target said, coming up next to the driver.

  “I don’t think so,” Brax replied between gritted teeth. “Move and I shoot. Drop the knife.” With his free hand, he took out his phone, dialing 911.

  The driver feinted toward him with the knife, and Brax fired. He missed. In the brief time it took for him to shoot again, the two men split up, racing out of the lot. Brax held his fire, not wanting to chance hitting a pa
ssing pedestrian. Snapping his phone off, since it was a bit late to report what had happened, Brax teleported to the clinic. Doc Wilson was there, as usual in the evenings. He took one look at Brax, then steered him into an exam room.

  “You’ll live,” Wilson said after examining Brax’s wound and bandaging it. “Go home, get some sleep. You’ll be fine in the morning. I hope the other guy got the worst of your confrontation.”

  “Unfortunately, not. But I did what I was hired for, so I’m all right with it.”

  The next morning, fully healed, he called the insurance company to tell his contact there that he had the proof they needed, then emailed him the photos.

  “And another job, well done,” he told Judd after hanging up.

  “As well as a nice paycheck to bank. You done good.”

  * * * *

  “I’m home,” Kyle said as soon as Brax answered his phone. “Feel like stopping by? I can fix supper if you’re hungry.”

  “You bet I do, and you don’t have to feed me.” There was a pause, then Brax said, “You’ve been back long enough to go food shopping?”

  “I got in just before noon. The furniture arrived, I swear, ten minutes after I did. By the time I got everything set up, and…Okay. Yeah. I should have called earlier, but…”

  Brax chuckled. “That’s all right. You were telling the hunky moving men where to put everything.”

  “Well, now that you mention it. Although, to tell the truth, compared to you they were nothing.”

  “Now you’re trying to flatter me so I won’t be pissed.”

  “That, too, but it’s the truth. Anyway, if you promise not to shoot me, I will make supper. Nothing fancy. Just burgers and potato salad.”

  “Works for me. I’ll be there in half an hour. By the way, I missed you.”

  “Missed you, too,” Kyle replied softly before hanging up.

  * * * *

  “The apartment looks like home,” Brax commented when he finished checking out the furniture Kyle had brought with him from his old place in New York.