“Not this time.” Weber nodded at the man sitting at the end of the table. A tall, skinny man with gray hair and a matching mustache that took up most of his face stood. Jacob had to crane his neck to look the man in the eye.
“Leo Walsh.” The man approached and offered his hand. Jacob narrowed his eyes instead of taking it. Walsh nodded and dropped his hand. “I’m the resident director of the Snoqualmie halfway house.”
“Halfway house?”
“TREX uses halfway houses to help the friends and family of the agency adjust to, well, just about anything.”
“I know what it is,” he snapped. “Why are you here?”
“For you, son.”
It clicked. Halfway houses were for ex-agents. Jacob shot the board the most lethal glare in his arsenal. “You’re firing me?” Apparently him quitting wasn’t good enough. They wanted to really dig in that knife and fire him instead. Halfway houses were made up of wannabe agents who couldn’t make it through TREX’s boot camp.
That and washed up ex-agents.
“Are you punishing me for being gay?”
“No,” Weber fired back. “You made the wrong choice and it cost a man his life. It could have done more than that had your unit not reacted as fast as they did. This has nothing to do with you liking men, women, or anything in between. This, Agent Burns, is what happens when you can no longer be trusted.”
“Fu—”
“Son,” Walsh cut in, stopping Jacob from telling Weber exactly what he thought of the verdict. “Let’s you and me talk about this when you aren’t so worked up.”
“Let’s not.”
“That’s not an option.”
“Neither is being shipped off to a halfway house.” Jacob had already made up his mind before Walsh introduced himself. For what he needed to do, he couldn’t have any affiliation with the agency. They’d stop him before he finished his final mission.
Yes, his final. He didn’t expect to live through what he planned to do—find the guy behind the hired gun and put him in the ground. It didn’t matter how many mercs Jacob had to take out along the way. The more, the better.
Instead of Walsh lecturing him or getting so pissed off he turned crimson as he barked out orders, he smiled. Maybe. Jacob couldn’t really see the man’s lips under all that hair. Walsh walked over and grabbed the TREX ID off the table, tucking it into his pocket as he returned to Jacob. “Tell you what. You go do what you need to do, son. I’ll be right here when you need me. And I will promise you this, Jacob. When that time comes, you are welcome home, no questions asked.”
Weber’s growl echoed through the otherwise silent room. “Do you really think that touchy-feely shit works?”
“I do. Thank you for asking.” He nodded at the director as if accepting a compliment. The men at the table all exchanged confused glances.
But not Walsh. He now had his back to them and winked at Jacob, letting him in on the secret. “What do you say? Do we have us a deal?”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” He had no intention of ever seeing the man again. Why not tell him what he wanted to hear?
Walsh eyed him knowingly. “Don’t go completely hog wild, son. Just do what you need to do to call it even. Nothing more.” He leaned closer, adding, “And nothing less.”
Did the man know what Jacob had planned? Was it that transparent? Jacob gave him a curt nod and hurried to the door before he changed his mind. With a sharp breath and no look back, he walked out, leaving TREX behind.
2
One year later…
“Is this seat taken?”
“Take it.” Lee Lamont didn’t slow his typing or bother to look up from his laptop. There were only four chairs at the table of the popular Seattle hotspot, and since two had already been removed, the sooner the third one went away, the sooner he’d be left in peace.
He could have stayed in the office to finish writing the code that would revolutionize the software industry, but he’d written his first piece of code at this Starbucks in the heart of Pike Place Market and always came back to type the final lines of every software package he created. It was his way of paying homage to a kindred spirit of sorts. They were both Seattle-based companies. Starbucks was now global. His company soon would be.
As soon as he finished this project and launched the code.
The market was in full swing around the corner, the second-wind brought on by all the busy shoppers picking something up for dinner on their way home from work. So few of them looked up from their phones as they rushed toward the booths. They had no idea what they were missing and probably never would.
Not Lee. He loved the market. The smells. The sounds. Everything so busy. That’s when he did his best work, with chaos all around him. He needed the constant pandemonium to keep him focused. He then tuned it all out as a true test to his sheer will, forcing every cell in his body to follow exact orders. It was such a rush when his body and mind worked in perfect unison.
The salty mist from the nearby waterfront danced in the air and tickled his senses, igniting them. He picked up the pace, finishing the last lines of code with a triumphant smile. As he hit the final key, saving the program to an encrypted thumb drive, a satisfied smile curved his lips. He then opened his log file and made several notes on what to test before releasing the final product to market. God, he loved his job. It was better than sex. Well, maybe not that good, but the endorphins rushing his system whenever he released code rivaled a very different—yet not any less satisfying—release.
“Are you alone?”
Well, shit. That ruined the moment. Was the guy hard of hearing? Lee didn’t have the time, nor the want, for company. He just wanted to finish his notes, close his laptop, and hit a few of the vendors before the market closed for the night. He’d been craving smoked cheese, the aroma from a vendor on the next street over taunting him even above the smell of rich coffee inside the shop. “Take the chair.”
The man scraped the chair along the floor as he pulled it out from the table. Lee closed his eyes against the assault to his ears, pausing his typing until it stopped. When it did, he opened his eyes once again.
To find the man now seated across from him.
It took a few seconds for it to register. When it finally pulled Lee out of his zone, he straightened at the sight.
Holy hell on a Tuesday.
Lee’s mouth fell open. The man brushed thick reddish-brown hair away from his face, revealing hazel eyes as intense as a summer’s sunset. His fierce, borderline rakish glower hooded his features, piquing Lee’s curiosity. He stared, memorizing high cheekbones, sultry lips turned down in a combination frown and scowl, yet were still sexy as hell. The man stared back, waiting for Lee to finish his assessment.
“Um,” Lee stuttered, not sure what to say. He bounced his gaze to the laptop, the blinking cursor like drumming fingers, annoyed and waiting. He returned his attention to the stranger. “Do I know you?”
The man curled the corner of his mouth into a whisper of a crooked grin that sent a wash of chills up Lee’s spine. Despite the cool April day, he broke out in a fine film of sweat that beaded up on his forehead and upper lip. That was one hell of a grin.
“Not yet.”
He shuddered. Even the man’s voice stroked over his senses.
Lee studied him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the man flirted with him. Although he’d like nothing better than to flirt back and see where this led, he didn’t get that vibe from him. He looked about as gay as Casanova.
The man leaned forward. “Do you want to know me?”
“Yes,” Lee breathed before realizing he’d said that out loud. The man chuckled, and the sound sank into his senses like syrup into a stack of steaming pancakes.
Pancakes?
“What’s your name?” Lee asked.
The man grinned and leaned back, crossing his arms. “No.”
“What?”
“No names. No asking what we do for a living or what brings
us to a coffeehouse like this. Just call me A.”
He liked that. Really liked that. Once his dates figured out what he did for a living, they wanted to take him home and consume his body, then his bank account. “A? That’s it? How boring. Let’s at least make something up.”
His grin widened and sent a wicked glimmer to his eyes. “Sounds good. You first, B.”
Lee thought about that, relishing in the idea of making up a whole new persona, if only for this conversation. He thought of all the directions he could take this and decided on something fun, something to test the waters. “I’m a professional baseball player. Sometimes I get a little tied up in my work. Sometimes I’m the one tying the game.”
“I do love ties. They put the game into extra innings. Let me ask you this. Pitcher? Or catcher?”
Oh, yeah. Lee may be imagining it, but he’d bet his laptop A was into the lifestyle. Maybe he’d take it a little further, just to be sure. “Depends on the team.”
“A switch? How very versatile.”
Oh, hell yeah. He definitely picked up on Lee’s not-so-subtle hints. “I like to keep my options open.”
“As do I.” A leaned his elbows on the table.
He loved his dumb luck sometimes. A man who defined the very term of ruggedly handsome, interested enough to make the first move. A man into the lifestyle. Another switch. It didn’t get any better than this.
Lee mirrored his movement and leaned toward him. He closed his laptop and pushed it aside as he decided this was definitely worth the distraction. He’d finish his notes later. “I like pushing the limit.”
“Whose limit?”
“Depends on the position.”
A chuckled. “A thrill seeker, are you, B?”
“That’s right. If it doesn’t scare you just a little, you haven’t taken it far enough.”
“Hmm.” A leaned closer. Lee inhaled. Dear God, he smelled even better than he looked.
“Get a room, fags.”
Lee blinked out of his daze and jerked back, irritated and embarrassed he’d gotten so caught up in their verbal foreplay he’d completely forgotten they were in public. Even though Seattle had been named as a top LGBTQ-friendly city in America several years in a row, there were still those who definitely weren’t as accepting of openly gay men.
Like the guy as big as a semi now glaring at them.
Idiot. He shook off the comment and darted a quick glance at A, who hadn’t moved, his intense gaze still riveted to Lee. He had to have heard the comment. Everyone now staring at them had to have heard the comment.
As much fun as he had with this distraction, he really did need to get back to work. He opened the laptop and rested his hands on the keys, losing himself in the one thing he’d always taken comfort in—the anonymity of his work. He had to do something to not get lost in the man still staring at him from across the table. Again.
“Didn’t you hear me?” the asshole snarled.
“The entire store heard you,” Lee snapped back through clenched teeth and bounced his attention to A. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Doing anything? He simply sat there like none of this bothered him in the least.
It sure as hell bothered Lee.
The stranger stood and approached. Oh, shit. Lee didn’t want a scene. He just wanted this guy to mind his own damn business and leave them alone.
“I’ve been coming here for the last twenty years. I don’t like your kind moving in thinking they own the place.” He emphasized his point by jabbing his finger on the table.
A grabbed the guy’s finger and gave it a quick twist. The man cried out when a loud snap sounded. A let out a long sigh as if bored. Lee was close to throwing up. The man’s finger was now pointed in a painfully impossible angle.
People sitting at surrounding tables all turned to see why the man was now whimpering and attempting to yank his hand back. The commotion even earned the attention of several in line. Awesome. Lee hated the attention, being front-and-center, and wanted to crawl under the table.
“You son of a bitch! You broke my finger.”
“Apologize or I break another one.” A didn’t even look at him as he delivered the ultimatum.
“Screw you.”
Wow. This guy was really stupid. Lee couldn’t stop himself as he joined in. “After history has given us such lines as ‘all men are created equal’ or ‘the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state’ the best you can come up with is screw you?”
“Say you’re sorry.” A moved on to the next finger and started to twist.
“S–Sorry, man. Sorry!”
A released the man’s hand and stood, a scowl curling his lip and furrowing his brow. The man glared as he cradled his hand to his chest. “You’re nuts, you know that?”
“Yep.”
Lee spotted two policemen entering the shop and grabbed the laptop, shoving it into his bag. The last thing he needed was another run-in with the cops. He still hadn’t gotten back in the good graces of the fine men in uniform after what happened at the last gay pride parade. An indecent exposure charge was hard to fight when you only had on a pair of assless chaps. “Time to go.”
A didn’t say a word as he followed Lee out of the coffeehouse. Only when they’d rounded the corner and pushed themselves into the crowded market, now camouflaged as nothing more than ordinary shoppers, did Lee slow and allow A to catch up.
“Who are you?” Lee kept his voice low, his head turned, the words intended for A only.
He grinned, but the smile never reached his eyes. “No names, remember?”
“You tore that guy a new one.”
“That? No, that was just a warning. If he didn’t apologize, I would have torn him a new one.”
Lee stepped aside to let a little old couple pass. Once he slipped back in beside A, he kept going, desperate to understand what the hell just happened. “People don’t do that for strangers.”
“Why does it matter if we’re strangers? The guy was an asshole and needed to be brought down a few pegs. I hate ignorance.”
“I don’t need you defending me.”
“I was defending us,” he corrected. “That guy had it coming.”
Flattered as he was, Lee was too frustrated to enjoy it. “Why? Because he doesn’t like us to have the right to a life outside of the closet?”
“He doesn’t have to like it. He doesn’t even have to support it. He does have to respect it.” He thrust his hand through his thick hair. Lee’s fingers tingled to do the same.
Damn if the response didn’t make Lee all that more interested in knowing more about this man. He had an unnerving stare. Deep. Obstinate. Unbelievably sexy.
Before reason could overtake his sudden bout of insanity, Lee blurted out, “Have dinner with me.”
A swung that powerful gaze to him and said nothing for several seconds, as if fighting some internal battle for the answer. They slowed to a stop. “You want to have dinner with me? Even after what you just saw?”
“Because of what I just saw.” Lee shrugged and kept walking. A fell into step beside him. “It’s the least I can do after you saved me from what would have been certain death. That guy was huge.”
A grinned and even let out a chuckle. “You don’t think you could have mopped the floor with him?”
“Me?” Lee laughed. “No. The sight of blood makes me queasy. Besides, if I took on every guy who’s ever had a problem with my sexuality, I’d never have time for anything else. Defending my choice would be a full-time job. That didn’t seem to slow you down anyway. You must be some sort of hero.”
Something shifted in A’s eyes, hardening his expression. He dropped his attention for several seconds as he drew in breath after deep breath. Lee knew when a man needed time to regroup. Something he’d just said triggered a memory. A very dark, very troubling memory.
Only when A lifted his gaze to avoid running into a woman on her phone screaming at someone in what sounded like Russian, did Lee regard him. “You we
nt away for a little bit.”
“Yeah.”
“You do that a lot?”
“Sometimes, yeah.”
Lee looked at him. “You going to do that during dinner?”
After what seemed an eternity, he gave Lee a single shake of his head.
Accepting the answer, he asked, “Do you like Irish?”
“Are you Irish?”
Lee laughed. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
“Then I like Irish.”
3
They both grinned as Lee dragged A to a little hole-in-the-wall Irish pub above the market. It was deserted on this Tuesday night, which gave them plenty of privacy.
The evening rushed by as they talked about anything and everything. Lee even got A to laugh, really laugh, when he added famous movie director to his new persona.
“Have you directed anything I’d recognize?” He picked at the corned-beef still on his plate.
“King Kong,” Lee answered and wiggled his brow. “I’ve got a thing for hairy men with big muscles.”
A laughed. “That was Peter Jackson.”
“Is he big and hairy?”
“He’s hairy.”
Lee took a pull from his warm beer. “Was Peter Jackson the one who actually directed the movie?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled.
“What about Lord of the Rings?”
“Jackson again.”
“Which one?”
“All of them.” He gave him a slow, sexy curve of his lips that made his hazel eyes dance wickedly. “You’re really terrible at this.”
Lee laughed. “I guess I am.”
“But you have a beautiful smile, so that makes up for it.”
They continued talking until the rest of the pub cleared out and only he and A remained. The dinner had been cleared, and they sat there, polishing off their third pints of warm beer.
Could this actually be happening? Could a man who looked good enough to eat really be sharing a meal with him and staring across the table with hunger lacing his gaze? Licking his lips, Lee then sucked his lower lip between his teeth and bit down.
Jacob Page 2
