“Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do, Stella?” Niko asked. He’d had a nervous flutter in his belly all day since he’d woken up to find Rocco wasn’t on the couch where he left him. He hadn’t slept great that night wondering if maybe he should’ve invited Rocco to sleep in his bed, but at the time, the thought had terrified him. He wasn’t afraid of Roc, and was looking forward to dating him, but he didn’t want to move too fast. Didn’t want to seem so needy. His experience with relationships was akin to his experience with cooking—next to none. Although, Stella had helped a great deal with the latter. He imagined if there were achievements for kitchen tasks like you could win in Xbox games he’d have racked up a lot of points—stir the chili- 10 points, peel the vegetables- 15 points, don’t eat all the strawberries you’re slicing- 20 points. Maybe Stella could help him figure out the dating thing, too. Except, he really wanted to date both her son and Rocco. Yeah, that might get awkward.
Stella turned to him with a smile. “Want to go wrangle up the boys and get them to the table?”
“Yep!” Niko hopped up from his seat. The only person missing so far was Roc. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he checked to make sure he hadn’t missed any messages and wondered again about the case Roc had taken on. He hoped it wasn’t anything dangerous. With quick steps, he walked toward the attached garage where Stella had a ping-pong table set up in one of the bays. Vidar, Rory, Harbor, and Magnus had declared it a good day for a ping-pong tourney and disappeared more than an hour ago.
He walked in on a game raging between Rory and Harbor. Harbor was the third Rourke brother, a temperamental blond Viking god and MMA fighter, much like Vidar. Rory had trained Harbor before Harbor moved to Indianapolis to train and live with his boyfriend Theo Smith—the reigning middleweight MMAPRO champion.
He and Luca had started their own training regime with Rory several months ago. Not to become MMA fighters, but to learn how to defend themselves and to help rebuild Luca’s self-esteem and confidence. Niko had been concerned at first, afraid that the violence of the training would do more harm than good for Luca, but under Rory’s gentle tutelage, and with the encouragement from Luca’s therapist he’d been flourishing. Niko looked around the garage. Vidar was leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the ping-pong table with Magnus, their heads close together, deep in discussion.
Niko would be forever grateful for these men. He would never forget the night he first walked into Rourke MMA looking for Oliver Voss with only a busted sketchpad and a couple changes of clothes in his bag. That night, he’d seen Vidar first—this tall, gorgeous, heavily muscled man with a meticulous blond beard and the bluest eyes Niko had ever seen. He’d nearly rendered Niko speechless, but then when Niko had reached into his bag to pull out the sketchpad to give to Ollie, Vidar had reacted by grabbing his arm. He didn’t hurt Niko, but he remembered being startled by the sheer strength of the hand holding him, by the fierce protectiveness burning in Vidar’s blue eyes.
He’d wondered that night what it would be like to have someone look out for him that way. Other than Luca, no one had ever given a shit about him—not the mother who’d foisted them off on the state, nor the string of foster homes that followed. He couldn’t say that anymore, he thought with a little smile. This family— the blood bonded and the chosen—had taken him and his brother in with open arms. And Vidar...Vidar had brought Luca back to him.
“Yes,” Rory shouted, throwing his arms up in the air as Harbor dove for the ball and missed. The little white ball went pinging around the garage while Harbor turned back to Rory with a growl. “Now don’t be like that, Harb,” Rory said, looking like he was ready to make a run for it if necessary. “I got you fair and square.” Harbor lunged around the table, that killer glint in his eye, and instead of running, Rory met him head on until they were locked in a clinch right there in the middle of the garage.
The ruckus lifted Vidar’s eyes and they locked on Niko’s. A jolt of awareness pulsed through him just like it always did whenever he was in Vidar’s vicinity. He cleared his throat.
“Stella says dinner is almost ready so everybody needs to move to the dining room.” All the men started moving in tandem, heading for the door that led into the house. Harbor ruffled his hair as he went by, and Niko swatted at his arm. Rory chuckled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Magnus linked his fingers with Rory’s and went on through the door, but Vidar stopped in front of him, ice blue eyes holding his.
“I thought Rocco was coming to dinner tonight?” Vidar asked. He seemed relaxed on the surface, Niko thought, but he’d spent a lot of time studying Vidar. Like, a lot of time. High school crush levels of time. So, he could see the tense set of his jaw and the stiff way he held his shoulders. Honestly, if he didn’t know any better, he would think that Vidar was nervous.
“He texted me earlier that he would be, but he did start working on a new case today, so maybe he got held up”
Vidar’s eyes narrowed. “What new case?”
“I’m not sure, he didn’t say.” Niko licked his lips. “Do you think I should call him?”
“Call who?” Rocco’s voice sounded from behind him. Niko turned around to find Rocco’s leanly muscled frame propped against the door jamb. He looked tired, but there was a smile on his face as he stepped down into the garage.
Roc had been surprised to walk into Stella's house and not find Niko in the kitchen where he always seemed to gravitate. When he made his way to the garage door to find Niko and Vidar standing so close together, intimately close, a pang of longing shot through his gut unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was so sharp, that for a moment, he thought it was jealousy, but as he watched them, he realized it was something else entirely.
What he didn't know was what to do about it.
He heard Niko say that he was going to step outside and call someone and decided to make his presence known before Niko turned around. “Call who?” he asked from his position with a shoulder leaned against the door jamb.
Vidar's eyes instantly lifted to meet his and a flash of something raced across the endless blue of them. Uncertainty, maybe? Rock wasn't sure, because it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Niko turned to face him, a sheepish expression on his face. Then he was walking toward him, holding his arms open for a hug. Since Rocco couldn't deny him, he stepped down into the garage and wrapped his arms around Niko’s shoulders, holding him close and relishing in the warmth of his smaller body. Niko pulled back and met his eyes,.
“I'm glad you made it. I was just about to call you," Niko said, taking a step back, but letting his hands linger as they slid down Roc’s arms.
"Well, I'm here now," Roc said, looking back up at Vidar before moving his eyes back down to Niko's face. "And I heard it's time for dinner, so we better get in there before Dagen eats it all.”
Roc watched Vidar walk toward them, his eyes sweeping up Niko’s body. As Vidar reached the steps, their eyes met and held for one singular electric moment over Niko’s head. In that second, Roc swore that Vidar was thinking the exact same thing that he was. And he suddenly wished he knew how to ask because if there was any way, any way, that they could make a relationship like that work...Roc was willing to do whatever it took.
Chapter Five
Dinner at the Rourke house was a special affair—boisterous, loud, and always with a full table of the people he considered family. Vidar looked around his mother's dining room, she was sitting at her place at the head of the table, a place that some would say should be his as the eldest son, but he didn't agree. She was the head of their family, and the reason they were all there today. Vidar may have taken on the responsibility to be their protector, but she was without a doubt the glue that held them together.
His eyes swept over his brothers; Dagen seated beside his boyfriend, Ollie; Harbor here to visit them without his boyfriend, Theo; Magnus so recently back to them from California and only very recently reunited with Rory. They sat with their chairs close together, and he could t
ell that Rory's hand was resting beneath the table on Magnus's thigh. Magnus had his head leaned against Rory's shoulder, he looked tired after the events of the last few weeks, but he also looked happy.
Maybe, he thought, Roc was right. His family was happy and healthy.
It was more than Vidar could ask for having them all there. In the new additions, Kayla, of course, had been part of the family now for years, along with Rory. Niko had been there for nearly a year, and his brother, Luca, several months. His eyes swept over Rocco, who he thought for sure he'd never see sitting around this table again. But he was glad, glad to have Roc here. Glad that Rocco and Niko seemed to be finding solace and companionship in each other.
When Rocco had walked in on them in the garage, Vidar thought he’d be angry. Instead, he'd seen Roc’s eyes darken into a reflection of the things he’d been feeling from the first moment he’d seen them together. The desire he felt for both Rocco and Niko confused him. He hadn't been in a relationship in years, and he had no intention of getting into one now, but he couldn't deny that there was something, some improbable connection between the three of them.
He never thought that he’d feel again for someone the way he’d felt about Roc all those years ago. He had been sure that the beating his father had given him when he discovered him and Roc together when they were teens had permanently damaged his ability to ever open himself up to someone that way again. He hadn't been celibate all these years, going a couple times a year to different cities to find some nameless, faceless person to fuck for a night, but even that had lost its appeal after he'd run into Rocco two years ago in Chicago. He'd still tried, though. Right up until the day Niko walked into Rourke MMA with only a small backpack and a defiant set to his jaw.
Niko kissed Vidar that night.
Vidar had taken him into his office and was getting him settled on the couch when Niko had raised up on his toes and pressed gentle lips to his. Some primal instinct had come crashing up and over him as Niko's lips had moved over his. Without thought, and without any concern for Niko's motivations, he’d lowered them both to the couch and claimed Niko's mouth.
Niko had whimpered beneath him, making him pull back, shocked at the way he’d completely dropped his guard. He hadn’t known Niko. He hadn’t known if Niko was trying to seduce him or if he’d thought it was a way to compensate Vidar for letting him stay there or to get into his good graces.
He had been horrified with himself for letting a total stranger come into his world, his turf, and losing himself so completely in him—even for a moment. From that night on, he’d pulled away from Niko, at least physically. Vidar couldn't bring himself to turn away completely when Niko had so obviously needed someone to help take care of him and to get him back on his feet, and once Niko had confided in him, to help him find his brother.
Vidar looked across the table and met Niko's dark eyes. He wondered if Niko ever thought about that night; about the kiss they’d shared or about the way Niko fit in his arms. He'd meant what he said to Roc, that Roc and Niko being together was for the best, but after seeing them together—in the club and their simple embrace in the garage—he wasn’t sure how he was going to live with it. To live knowing that if they were happily together that he would never get to touch either one of them again.
The tension in the kitchen was thick. Not necessarily bad, but like a bowl filled with too much water—the moment it reached the rim it suspends, hung there before spilling over the sides. Niko felt like they were in that moment now, and he didn’t know what exactly spilling over the edge would entail for them. Although, he was curious to find out.
Niko accepted the next rinsed plate from Vidar and dried it before putting it in the stack on the counter. Dinner had been a delicious, lively affair, as it usually was. When it was over, Vidar had offered to do the dishes, while everyone else moved into the living room to start a movie. Unsurprisingly, Roc jumped up to help him, and since he was addicted to being wherever they were, he’d joined as well. There was something about the glances that had passed between Roc and Vi during dinner that had him wondering if he'd missed something. There was no way he was going to go watch some movie and miss the chance of finding out what it was.
It wasn't strange for Vidar to look at him in varying degrees of lust, confusion, or irritation. Sometimes, Niko poked at him just to get a reaction. Which he knew probably wasn't the smartest idea, but once he'd realized that Vidar would never hurt him, he couldn't seem to help himself. He couldn't understand how Vidar could so blatantly ignore what was right in front of him. Niko knew he was younger, a decade younger even, but he was an adult and he thought the decision of who to be in a relationship with, regardless of age, should be his. He supposed that it worked both ways, but he knew that it wasn't that Vidar didn't want him. No one kissed someone the way Vidar had kissed him without real desire behind it. A desire he was sure had only grown since they'd gotten to know each other and a measure of trust had been built between them. And yet, Vidar went out of his way to keep them from ever being in a position like they'd been in that night.
He didn't understand it, but he had tried to respect it as best he could because he didn't want to lose the base of friendship they’d built or to push or manipulate Vidar into something he truly didn’t want.
Niko had been surprised when Roc showed interest in him because Vidar and Roc were the same age, but the distance in years between them didn’t seem to bother Roc at all. Niko did wonder, as he watched the two of them glance at each other, dance around each other, if he was coming between them, but when they turned their eyes on him—blue ice and dark fire—he felt foolish for even thinking that. It was as clear as day that while they both may still have feelings for each other, they also wanted him. He'd bet money on it, and he was thinking as they finished cleaning up the kitchen, that he might even be willing to bet everything. Now, he just needed a plan.
"I hate to eat and run," Roc said. "But I need to get back on surveillance.”
"You never did tell us about the new case.” Niko dried his hands and hung the towel on the bar across the oven.
Roc sighed and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's nothing dangerous, a runaway teenage girl." When Niko's eyes got large, Roc hurried to continue, "She's eighteen, but still in high school. Scheduled to graduate this May. She came out to her folks, and her mom I guess threw a fit. Her dad defended her, and while her parents were arguing, she snuck out of the house with nothing but some clothes and her laptop."
"That's horrible," Niko said, looking between Roc, leaning against the counter, and Vidar, where he stood still by the sink, a dark look crossing his face.
Roc nodded, lifting his eyes and looking across the room at Vidar. Something passed between them. A weighted look that Niko discerned carried a shared experience. It was the kind of look he and Luca exchanged sometimes when something jostled memories from the time they had together before their mother turned them over to the state.
"Need someone to ride shotgun?" Vidar asked, his voice was low and deep. Niko kept his eyes trained on Vidar's face, hoping to catch a clue about what had brought on that look. But the man in front of him was the stone faced version of Vidar. The one who’d walked away from Niko that night after their kiss. The one that had turned him away anytime he’d managed to get too close.
"I appreciate it," Rocco answered. “But it's not necessary. This is strictly an information gathering and reporting back kind of case. I'm hoping that she’ll come to her senses and go to school tomorrow. But since she's eighteen, the most I can do is keep an eye out and do what her father paid me to do, which is find her. It's up to her if she wants to speak to him or go back home."
Vidar nodded. "Good luck, let me know if you need an assist." Then he turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Roc and Niko alone with the low hum of the refrigerator and distant sounds of the movie coming from the living room on the other side of the house.
Roc met his eyes and
walked until he was standing only a foot away from Niko. He placed his hands on the counter behind Niko, caging him in and leaned down so their eyes were at the same level.
"Sorry, I couldn't spend more time with you tonight."
Niko shook his head. "It's okay. You’ve got a pretty important job—saving brothers, finding missing girls, taking pictures of dirty adulterers." He lifted his arms and threaded them around Rocco's neck, bringing their faces close together. "Getting good night kisses."
One corner of Rocco's mouth quirked up. "Is that so?"
Niko nodded and closed the distance between them, pressing a chaste kiss to Rocco's mouth. His lips were dry and warm, and he hummed against Niko, pulling his hands from the counter and wrapping them around Niko's back. They stayed like that for a moment—lips moving slowly, hands caressing gently—before Rocco pulled back and rested their foreheads together.
"I promise, I'll take you on a proper date. As soon as I wrap up this case or even before if I can manage it."
Niko smiled. "I'll hold you to that."
Rocco gave him one more kiss—a quick press of lips, before he pulled away and walked toward the door. "Don’t cuddle too much with the big, blond Viking while I’m gone." He winked and disappeared into the night.
Chapter Six
The following week moved slow. Niko had hardly seen Rocco at all, as he’d been out surveilling nearly every day, looking for signs of Tabitha at all her friend’s houses and different locations where they were known to hang out. The girl hadn't shown up at school. Rocco was worried that she was going to be marked as truant and get into more trouble than she needed to be, and possibly not be allowed to graduate. He was convinced, however, that she was safe couch surfing between her friends. Which, he’d discovered, were a loyal group because none of them were willing to talk to him, the same way they wouldn't speak to her father.
Open Wounds: The Boxed Set Page 39
