by Brandon Witt
“Asshole,” Alex grumbled but Ridley heard the hint of amusement in his voice.
“That’s Captain Asshole to you, matey,” he snorted and nuzzled the side of Alex’s neck, licking the salty flavor from his skin.
Alex grunted and then landed a hard slap to Ridley’s ass.
“Ow!” Ridley yelped and jumped up. “You do that again and you’ll be walking the plank,” he threatened and rubbed his abused cheek.
Alex pulled up his shorts and pulled the towel he’d been sitting on out from under him. He swiped it across the mess on his torso and then threw it to Ridley, who caught it easily. “When we get back to the house, you’ll be bouncing on my plank,” he sneered.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Ridley chuckled. “Now get your ass up. Those traps aren’t going to pull themselves, ya know.”
Alex continued to grumble but he got up and stomped to the side of the boat. “And just so you know, Captain,” Alex called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t agree to do this without bitching.”
Ridley plopped his ass in the chair and spun it around. He shoved the throttle forward. “Bitch away, matey,” he called back and then flipped the radio on and turned the volume all the way up.
The sun was high in a beautiful clear blue sky. There was a warm salty breeze blowing, cooling his heated flesh, and he had a satisfied cock. He was in control of the vessel and had the promise of a little plank time later. It was turning out to be an almost perfect day.
He grabbed a soda out of the cooler and then spun the boat around, moving it up close to the buoy they’d drifted away from. Ridley popped the top on the bottle and gulped down the ice-cold liquid as he watched Alex grab the rope and start pulling the trap to the surface, the muscles of his back and arms flexing and bulging as he worked. Alex’s mouth moved the entire time, but Ridley couldn’t hear him over the radio.
“Now it is perfect.”
THE SUN shining down on Ridley’s bare back, the warm wind, and the sound of the waves hitting the shore should have had a calming effect on him. He was anything but. Staring down at Alex laid out on a weight bench in nothing more than a pair of shorts as he bench-pressed a bar of heavy weights caused Ridley’s pulse to race. He stared, transfixed at Alex’s bulging arms and taut chest, each movement of the bar going down and pushing back up like the sway of a hypnotist’s pendulum.
How quickly things had changed. Ridley had first been drawn to Alex by his gentle look, his blond hair, and big dimples that gave him almost an angelic look. Not that any of the fantasies he’d had about Alex were angel-like—definitely more devilish. However, even with the naughty thoughts he’d had about the meek library assistant, Ridley had a strong need to protect Alex as well. He found it ironic that Alex was now the one protecting him. While Ridley still had a strong urge to protect and would always have Alex’s back, they were now closer to being equals, almost like partners. It was a position Ridley found very appealing. What he wasn’t so sure he was comfortable with, though, was how quickly he was falling for Alex.
Alex had jumped from potential fuck buddy to…. Christ! He wasn’t even sure how to describe what Alex meant to him now. The only thing he knew for certain was that he enjoyed waking up next to Alex every morning, spending their days together, and ending them wrapped in each other’s arms. As he stared down at Alex while he continued to work the weights, powerful body straining and handsome face fierce in concentration, Ridley couldn’t imagine a day spent without Alex as part of it.
“Ridley?”
“Hmm?” Ridley responded, pulled from his musings.
“Uh… a little help here,” Alex grunted. His face bright red, arms shaking as he strained to push the weights up.
“Oh shit, sorry.” He grabbed the bar and helped Alex set it in the cradle.
“Whew!” Alex sat up and shook his arms out. “Some spotter you are,” he grumbled.
“I got distracted.”
Alex looked around and then back at Ridley with a confused expression. “By what?”
Ridley ran his gaze down Alex’s sweat-damp body and then back up and raised a brow.
Alex shook his head and grabbed a towel and ran it over his chest and stomach. “I nearly popped a hernia because you were being pervy? That’s low, man.”
“I would have thought you’d be used to my pervy ways by now,” Ridley teased and shoved at Alex. “Now move it, my turn.”
“Pushy bastard,” Alex huffed. He got off the bench, ran the towel over the vinyl, and then threw it at Ridley.
Ridley didn’t even bother trying to catch it, instead he pulled out the towel he had tucked in the waistband of his shorts and laid it on the bench before lying down. He wrapped his hands around the bar, adjusting his grip, and shifted on the bench, feet planted firmly on the ground.
Alex moved to stand near Ridley’s head and placed his hands over Ridley’s. “I hope I don’t get distracted,” he commented with a wink.
Ridley stared at him and narrowed his eyes. Alex was apparently trying for innocence, but the glint of mischief shining in his eyes was obvious and ruined the effect. “Just try to keep up,” Ridley instructed and shoved up on the bar. Alex chuckled but turned serious quickly and kept his hands hovering over the bar as Ridley did his reps.
They continued to spot each other through their workout, neither of them losing focus as the weights got heavier, the reps harder. By the time Ridley finished his last set, he was soaked in sweat, muscles fatigued and shaking, spent. He lay on the bench as he worked to slow his huffing breath down and wiped the sweat from his burning eyes.
“Good workout,” Alex complimented. “I think we should head up to the house. I’m starving.”
“When are you not starving?”
“Hey, I worked hard,” Alex grumbled. “I deserve food.”
While Alex ran each morning and regularly worked out with free weights, the amount of food he could put away on a daily basis was still staggering. Ridley sat up and tossed the towel aside. “I tell you what, come swimming with me and I’ll make lunch.” He wiped his hand down his sweaty torso and wrinkled his nose. “I need to get the stink off.”
“Last one there does dishes,” Alex challenged as he broke out into a run.
“You’re such a damn cheat,” Ridley called out and chased after the laughing bastard.
The minute Ridley hit the cool water, he couldn’t care less about competing or dishes or anything else other than how glorious it felt on his heated flesh. Alex, on the other hand, was in full competitive mode. When Ridley broke the surface, Alex pounced, grabbing Ridley in a bear hug from behind and shoving him back under the water. They spun and rolled, hands sliding on wet skin. Ridley kicked, grabbed, and twisted until he had Alex in a headlock. Ridley made one critical mistake: he underestimated Alex. As Ridley laughed in triumph, Alex pushed back, spun, and Ridley sucked in a large amount of water rather than air.
Ridley popped up and started coughing hard, his eyes bulging as he struggled to get the water out of his lungs. When he couldn’t catch his breath, he began to panic. Thankfully Alex didn’t. He spun Ridley, pressing a fist beneath Ridley’s diaphragm, and gave a couple sharp thrusts, helping to expel the water and allowing Ridley to breathe again.
“That’s enough excitement for one day,” Alex commented and released his hold on Ridley. “Besides, I’m—”
“Hungry,” Ridley finished for him. “I nearly die and you’re worried about your stomach.”
“A wee bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Alex asked as he grabbed Ridley’s hand and entwined their fingers.
“Shooting water out your nose is a bit dramatic,” Ridley grumbled and allowed Alex to lead him from the water. “Not to mention traumatic. And you cheated, so you should have to do dishes.” Ridley made sure to put a little whine in his tone and pushed out his bottom lip for good measure.
It didn’t work. Alex rolled his eyes. “You look ridiculous.” He leaned over and pecked Ridley on the cheek. “But I did
cheat, so if you cook, I’ll do dishes. Deal?”
“Deal,” Ridley agreed. He didn’t mind cooking, as long as he could do it in the microwave, but washing dishes? Not so much. There wasn’t a lot he wouldn’t do, even pout, to get out of the chore.
“DON’T EVEN think about it,” Alex advised without looking up from rinsing the dishes.
“What?”
“If you snap me with that towel, I will beat your ass,” Alex promised.
After a long pause, Ridley leaned his hip against the counter next to Alex, brows furrowed and towel in his hand. “What makes you think I was going to?”
“Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’ve tried nearly every day for the past two weeks,” Alex surmised.
“Damn, I’m getting predictable.”
“Getting?” Alex retorted, giving Ridley a disbelieving look.
“Okay, I am,” Ridley chuckled. “But you do deserve it for making me cook covered in lake salt and gunk.”
“I was hungry,” Alex responded unapologetically.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
Alex set the last dish on the drying rack and turned off the tap. He grabbed the towel from Ridley, quickly dried his hands, and tossed the towel behind him. He slid his arms around Ridley’s waist and pulled him close, burying his face in the side of Ridley’s neck. “Forgive me?” he murmured against Ridley’s shower-warmed skin before kissing his way up to Ridley’s ear.
Ridley shuddered. “Mmmhmm,” he moaned and tilted his head, giving Alex more room.
“Thought so,” Alex chuckled and kissed Ridley on the nose before releasing him and heading to the fridge. “How about we spend the rest of the afternoon with a good movie and a couple of beers?”
“Okay, but I get to pick the movie,” Ridley responded.
“Oh hell no you don’t,” Alex grunted and snatched a couple of beers before following Ridley, who had rushed out of the kitchen. Ridley had crappy taste in movies. The worst were the bad B zombie movies he insisted were cult classics and had to be watched several times to truly appreciate them. Having spent several agonizing hours watching them, Alex still didn’t appreciate them nor see the appeal.
Ridley dove onto the couch and grabbed the remote. “Oh hell yes I do. I have the magic wand,” he exclaimed happily as he held it up.
“You’re such a child,” Alex muttered as he sat next to the giggling man and handed him one of the beers. Alex twisted off the top on his bottle, slipped it between his thumb and index finger, and snapped, sending the cap flying across the room.
“And I’m the child?” Ridley asked with a snort.
“Yup,” Alex said with a grin and tipped up his beer.
Thankfully there weren’t any rotting walking corpse movies on. After running through every channel at least twice, Ridley finally gave up and turned it to the western channel. Once the program was settled on, it didn’t take long for beer bottles to be set aside and bodies to move into what had become a familiar position—Alex stretched out on the couch, Ridley in Alex’s arms with his head resting on Alex’s chest.
Alex ran his hand over Ridley’s head. He liked the way the short shaved sides tickled the tips of his fingers. In fact, there was a lot about Ridley he liked. He liked the way he and Ridley could laugh and tease each other, the easy companionship between them, and how well they worked together. Then there was the sex. Their physical relationship was over the fucking top. Alex had never felt so satisfied and content. He supposed his feeling could be attributed to the fact that for the first time in his life, he was making an effort to learn someone’s body, their likes and dislikes, rather than a constant series of one-night stands. However, Alex knew it was more than that—it was Ridley.
The time he’d spent in Slater had sucked, but he hadn’t ever really thought of himself as lonely. Now, Ridley could leave for an hour and Alex missed him. Alex kissed the top of Ridley’s head. What are you doing to me? Ridley’s response was to kiss Alex’s tightening chest right over his heart.
Ah dammit. This couldn’t end well. Eventually he would have to return to California, Ridley to Michigan, and they both would return to their previous lives. The idea made Alex’s stomach sick and his heart hurt. He snuggled farther into the couch, wrapped his arms tighter around Ridley, and although he knew he shouldn’t, he hoped their time here wouldn’t end any time soon.
ALEX BOLTED upright in bed, scanning the area as he strained to listen, but he neither heard nor saw anything that could explain what had pulled him from a sound sleep. Ridley made a snuffling noise next to him and then rolled and covered his head with the sheet. Alex’s heart sped when he heard what must have disturbed his sleep—the sound of wood creaking, as if someone was walking on the front porch.
He retrieved his gun from beneath his pillow and silently left the bed, careful not to disturb Ridley. He crept down the hall, his senses hyperaware of any threats of danger. The sun was just beginning to rise, so he was able to take in his surroundings with ease. Unfortunately that meant whoever was out there would have a perfect sight line once he entered the living room.
Gun leading the way, Alex peeked around the corner and then let out a sigh of relief when he spotted Mick standing directly in front of the picture window, cell phone to his ear.
Alex flipped the safety on his gun to keep from shooting the bastard for scaring the shit out of him and set it on the coffee table as he stomped to the door. He threw it open. “Do you realize how close you came to getting a bullet in your ass?”
“Call you back,” Mick said into his phone and ended the call. “There you go talking about my ass again.” Mick tsked. “You really need to come to terms with the fact you can’t have it.”
Alex fought the urge to roll his eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You’re going home,” Mick said jubilantly and held out his fist.
“I’m what?” Alex asked in confusion.
“Dude, don’t leave me hanging here,” Mick complained, continuing to hold out his fist.
He didn’t know what the hell Mick was talking about and slapped his hand away without bumping fists. “What the hell are you spouting off about?”
Mick looked down at his hand, frowning, and then shrugged. “Alvarez rolled.”
“Gutierrez’s lieutenant?” Alex asked dubiously.
“Yup. Apparently he got wind of a price on his head and turned over enough documentation to shut down the entire cartel just like that,” Mick said with a snap of his fingers. “Your puny ass has lost its value.”
Alex slumped back against the railing of the porch, grabbing it for support. “You’ve got to be shitting me?”
“Dead serious. Your ass ain’t worth two cents.” Mick smirked.
“I’m going home?” Alex muttered, overlooking the insult about his worth. I’m going home? He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and stared at his partner as if he’d grown two heads, the weirdness equivalent to the alien shit he was blathering on about. Home? That’s not possible.
“Wow, that isn’t quite the reaction I expected out of you,” Mick sighed.
“Over? How in the hell can it be over?” Alex bristled.
“I thought you’d be happy.”
“Over!” Alex pushed away from the railing. He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to Mick. “How the fuck can it just be over?”
“What the hell, man?” Mick asked and took a step back.
Alex threw his hands up and stomped down the steps, anger bubbling up to the surface and skittering along his nerve endings like a flash fire. “That’s it? All the buildup, the danger, the cloak-and-dagger bullshit.” He spun around to face his partner—who was now looking at him as if he were the one who’d grown two heads—and pointed at his curls. “I had fucking wood shards in my goddamn hair, Mick!”
“You’re losing it,” Mick muttered with a shake of his head.
“I broke my mama’s heart. My family and friends have thought I was dead for the last eighteen months and t
hat’s it?” Alex asked, not expecting an answer as he continued to stomp and fume and curse. “This is bullshit, Mick. Not to mention really fucking anticlimactic. What the hell kind of ending is that?”
“The kind of ending where you didn’t get dead,” Mick reminded him patiently.
“Alex! What’s wrong?” Ridley called out as he came rushing out the front door. His gaze settled on Mick, and he slowly moved up close to Alex. “What’s going on?” he asked cautiously.
“Alex is being a drama queen,” Mick responded in exasperation. “How you doing, Ridley?”
Alex glared at his partner.
“I’m good.” Ridley looked back and forth between Alex and Mick. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Be my guest,” Mick said with flair, bowing to Alex.
Alex continued to glare at Mick as a rush of conflicting emotions went through him. Excitement, confusion, anger, relief all battled for the forefront, leaving him off balance and unsure of how he felt. Eighteen months of madness and it was over. Just like that? Over?
“Alex?” Ridley asked quietly as he laid a hand against the small of Alex’s back.
Alex squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re going home.”
Alex felt Ridley stiffen next to him. “Excuse me?”
Alex blew out a breath and then another before turning to Ridley and meeting his confused gaze. “We’re going home. Gutierrez’s lieutenant turned state’s evidence. The entire cartel is going down. Eddie Alvarez is taking our place in the witness protection program. We’re going home.”
Ridley’s eyes went wide. “Seriously?”
“Think we can discuss this over coffee?” Mick chimed in. “I’ve been up for hours and haven’t had a drop. I’m starting to get a little cranky.”
Ridley continued to stare at Alex for a moment with a questioning expression on his face. Alex slid his arm around Ridley’s waist. “I think coffee would be a good idea.”
