by Watts, Mia
Ben leveled them both with a look. “Promise me you won’t try anything.”
Duncan’s gaze traveled over him slowly. When it met Ben’s again, there was interest smoldering in his eyes. “With you or the hare?”
Ben blushed. It was the first time Duncan had showed an ounce of attraction since that night, and he’d done it in front of a witness.
“I’m sorry. I can’t let you go back there. Either produce vaccination records, or wait the ten days. In the meantime, take a claim form from that rack and fill it out. You’ll have to refile for permission of ownership.” Ben fought for a businesslike tone. He ignored the fact that the finger he was using to point to the rack of claim forms, shook as badly as his writing had when he’d spotted them outside.
Duncan took a form and a pen. Taking a spot on the reception counter, he began filling out papers. Gibbs seemed distracted, pacing from Duncan’s side to the clinic door. He peered in.
“You won’t see him that way. He’s down the hall,” Ben told him.
Gibbs looked at Ben, a puckered frown between his brows. Gibbs pushed up his glasses with a long, slim finger. Ben glanced down at his report, trying to make sense of the odd tingle he got from Gibbs’ small movement.
It was an ordinary thing, pushing up glasses. Ben chalked it up to nerves. Being in the same room with Duncan, after the last time they’d seen each other, was enough to confuse anyone. The man was a Greek god, perfectly built, beautifully casual and confident. Duncan probably had that effect on a lot of people.
Gibbs, on the other hand, was—with surprise—Ben realized Gibbs had a great build, too. He’d never paid much attention. Slim and a little geeky, he carried himself with lithe sex appeal and presence. While he had wide palms, his fingers were delicate and long. His wrists were thick and his arms looked leanly muscled and sleek. His cotton t-shirt draped over broad shoulders, to barely skim his chest.
Huh.
Ben glanced up again, catching Gibbs in another surreptitious thrust of a finger to the bridge of his glasses. Gibbs flicked his eyes in Ben’s direction. Long black lashes over whiskey colored eyes widened before skipping away.
Double huh.
Ben thought he saw the burn of a blush touch Gibbs’ cheeks, but he turned too fast for Ben to be sure. Possibly even weirder was the strange flutter looking into those yellow-brown eyes gave Ben. Unsettling, to say the least.
Ben gave his attention to Duncan who quietly finished his form and handed it to him. When their eyes met, there was none of the same elevator-drop feeling that he’d gotten from Gibbs, yet Duncan was more Ben’s type. Wasn’t he?
Ben shook his head and took the paper from Duncan. “Thanks. I’ll file this and call you in ten days. Unless you have that vaccination record and permit.”
“We don’t,” Duncan answered for them both.
“Then I’ll give him one after the ten days are up, so that he’s up to date on his immunizations.”
“Are you going to take the radio collar off?” Gibbs asked anxiously.
Ben folded his arms across his chest, trying to look imposing, and hoping to quell the confusing feelings he was having, as he talked to Gibbs. “Nope.”
“What?” Duncan nearly shouted.
“I’m not releasing any exotic animal to someone who claims to own it. You’ll need to provide proof. If you can’t, that tells me one of two things. Either you do own him and you aren’t properly caring for his needs. Or, you don’t own him, and he needs to return to his natural habitat,” Ben finished.
“Which you just admitted wasn’t in Michigan,” Duncan argued.
“And is precisely why I collared him. Tracking unusual animal behavior is an important part of what the DNR does, Duncan. There’s no way around it, but to follow procedure.” Ben shrugged. “That’s all there is to it.”
“What if we don’t know where our records are?” Gibbs asked.
“Your vet would have copies on the vaccination. The State will have a copy of your permit,” Ben explained.
Duncan grunted unhappily, shooting him a glare.
“Please?” Gibbs pressed. “He’s gotta be scared. Can I just calm him down a little?”
Ben softened. “I might have let you back there, but given your insistence and the utter lack of proof, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Gibbs nodded. “C’mon, Duncan. We’ll just have to wait.”
“Like hell,” Duncan argued.
Gibbs raised his eyebrows at Duncan, taking on the direct eye contact like it was nothing. Impressive considering the heavy frown Duncan sported.
Finally, Duncan relented. “Okay, but I’m not happy about it.”
Ben almost laughed.
Gibbs grabbed Duncan’s wrist and dragged him out of the office. “Thanks, Ben. We’ll see you in ten days.”
Ben narrowed his eyes on their retreating backs. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the tone in Gibbs voice—so abrupt, final—Ben didn’t believe it for a minute. Those boys were up to something and it involved a certain furry, long-eared guest of the state.
Chapter Five
Gibbs quickly adjusted his hold on Duncan’s shoulder, as Duncan squatted, messing up Gibbs’ balance. He could feel his talons dig through thin layers of fabric to clutch skin.
That’s gonna leave a mark.
Duncan grimaced. “Dude, cut your toenails.”
“Told ya to put on your leather coat. I’m an owl. I need talons to hang onto stuff.” Gibbs pointed out.
“Tell me if you see anything.”
Gibbs clung motionless. He swiveled his head in jerks and starts as he unblinkingly surveyed the DNR office grounds from the brush where Duncan crouched. Even the breeze was dead. The evening had an eerie chill. Breath puffed from Duncan’s lips. Otherwise the night remained quiet. The only scurrying Gibbs detected came from adventurous mice and night foragers.
“Clear,” Gibbs proclaimed finally.
Duncan crouch-walked to the office door. “Anyone inside?”
Gibbs’ chest fluffed with an unreleased hoot. It reverberated, and he heard Duncan snort. Gibbs blinked patiently. They teased him about inappropriate hooting, but really, when you’re an owl, there were just some things that came naturally unbidden.
He ignored the unspoken jeer from Duncan and looked intently through the glass door of the office. “Also clear.”
Gibbs lifted his wings, stretching them and flapping them cautiously. He stirred the still air, knocking a cold gust and downy feathers against Duncan’s cheek. Duncan started and Gibbs’ claws dug in, as he tried to hang on.
Duncan grunted when Gibbs’ talons pierced his shoulder through his sweater and shirt. Releasing his tenuous hold on Duncan’s butchered body, Gibbs swept his wings out, carrying himself up. Gibbs roosted over the door on the rooftop. He blinked solemnly down at Duncan’s upturned face and pained eyes.
Duncan nodded. “Thanks. Just hoot loudly if you see anything.”
“You got it,” Gibbs answered.
Duncan fiddled with the doorknob. In a small town like Fletcher, Gibbs supposed there was always the chance that Ben had left the door unlocked. Though, Ben took his job seriously enough, Gibbs doubted that was the case. Especially given their exchange earlier in the day regarding Charlie.
It was locked.
Duncan blew the hair off his forehead. Next he tried the credit card trick, working the tough plastic between the door jam and the lock to no avail.
He didn’t know why Duncan was even trying that. It wasn’t going to work. “Hurry up,” Gibbs complained.
“I’m trying! It’s not like I’m a pro at breaking and entering.”
Gibbs huffed. His talons scraped on shingles as Gibbs tired of waiting for Duncan to work his way into the office. Gibbs had other ideas about how to find Charlie, and it didn’t involve sitting aimlessly on the roof of the DNR building. Gibbs left his perch.
“Jesus, Gibbs, you’re supposed to keep watch,” Duncan snarled quietly.
&nbs
p; They both knew Gibbs could hear the complaint. He decided it wasn’t worth commenting on.
“This is ridiculous. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
No shit, Sherlock.
A couple of minutes later, Duncan put his tools away with disgust. Gibbs settled on the ground beside him, after checking that the area was clear. “I looked through the windows. I don’t see any animals on the premises. I’m betting he took Charlie to his place.”
“And where would that be?” Duncan groused.
Gibbs took off lifting high into the night as he set off toward Ben’s place. He could have stuck around and told Duncan that he knew where Ben lived because he visited him several nights a week, but that would only leave Gibbs open for teasing. He didn’t feel like being teased about Ben, or explaining that the first time he’d followed Ben home had been three years ago, when he first came to Fletcher. Or that being mistaken for Duncan that one incredible night, had left his heart a little battered. It wasn’t up to taking the jibe. Especially not from Duncan.
Originally, Gibbs had told himself that following Ben was about checking out the new guy in town. He’d even explained it to himself as needing to know what the DNR was up to, considering that Gibbs, Duncan, and Charlie might easily come into direct contact with Ben some day. He’d been right, it turned out, but that wasn’t really why he’d started watching Ben.
He’d started watching because something in Ben spoke to Gibbs. It could have been his normalcy, something Gibbs didn’t have. It wasn’t that he wanted to trade shifting for a normal life, yet the calm repetition of Ben’s days and nights soothed him.
And he was a loner. Ben hung out in the wooded cabin by himself, often favoring candle light to electricity. Ben seemed to want to be a part of nature in a way most pure humans didn’t. Gibbs especially liked it when Ben would sit on the front porch and sip tea while he absently pushed himself back and forth on the bench swing.
Other times, Ben cut wood, his shirt stripped from his strong body revealing details about his form no one would ever guess hid underneath the bland button-down uniform shirt. At those times, Ben’s body stretched and strained in lifting the ax high overhead, his arms circling around and up. Then swinging down, he nailed the cuts perfectly center. His abdomen and chest muscles pulled tight, glistening with sweat.
His brow dotted moisture, and Ben would wipe his forehead with the back of his arm, oblivious to his animal audience.
Gibbs got to the cabin. He circled overhead twice, swooped down to buzz the windows, but didn’t see what he was looking for. Still, it felt right. As well as he’d come to know Ben, he felt confident in believing Charlie had been brought there. Gibbs cruised back to Duncan and hooted high and loud.
“Go to the cabin at the edge of old Bertram Tillman’s place. I’ll meet you there.”
“Like that?” Duncan called.
“Bring my stuff. If I need to change after you arrive,” Gibbs answered.
“I wanna stop and get something first. You go on.”
Gibbs went back the way he’d come. As he descended, he saw that Ben was on his front porch again. He sat on the swing, a mug of tea cupped in his hands as he stared off into space. Like Gibbs had done many times in the past year, he dropped lower, taking a perch on the solid wooden porch railing.
“Well, hello there, handsome,” Ben said, his quiet voice carrying easily to Gibbs.
Gibbs fluffed with pleasure. He hooted softly in acknowledgement.
Ben smiled. “I’ve missed you. What’s it been? A week?”
Eight days.
“One of these times you’re going to let me close enough to touch you.”
Not until I know you aren’t going to collar me. But a Great Horned Owl would be quite a prize for your radio collection. Besides, the last time you touched me left a lasting impression.
Ben leaned forward. A bemused smile touched his lips.
Gibbs blinked at him and clacked his beak with interest.
“I swear I see you everywhere.” Ben laughed at himself. “When I looked at Gibbs today, I thought I was looking into your beautiful eyes. Weird, right?”
Gibbs side-stepped toward him several steps. Still out of reach, but closer. He bobbed his head and hooted again, this time making it sound more like private agreement.
“Sometimes I think you understand me,” Ben mused, sitting back on his swing. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Gibbs ruffled his feathers, fluttered his wings against his sides with pleasure. The man sure knew how to give a compliment.
The sound of tires crunching over gravel reached him before Duncan’s car came into view. He turned his head, awaiting his approach.
“Something out there?” Ben asked, rising but not yet hearing the approach.
Gibbs hopped away and took off into the trees. He saw Duncan slow down long enough to drop their duffle from the car window before he carried on toward Ben’s place.
Duncan came to a stop in front of the small cabin. Ben walked toward him, his steps slow and cautious. He looked good out of uniform. This part was gonna be easy. There was just something sexy about a man in faded jeans and tee. The navy hoodie, half-zipped, didn’t discourage Duncan either.
“Duncan?” Ben called disbelievingly.
“Hey. I just figured that after our tense visit today, I’d rather lighten things up with you.”
“Really.” Ben’s tone told him he didn’t believe Duncan’s excuse. Ben’s lips pressed a thin, firm line.
Duncan held up a six-pack of long neck beers. “Really. Gibbs will be here in a minute too. Do you mind company?”
There was that wary look again, Duncan noticed. He smiled, trying to convince Ben that his intensions were pure.
“I don’t mind company, but discussions about small, hoppy animals are off the table.”
“Deal,” Duncan agreed.
“And rough fondling in the dark is off limits, too.”
“O-kay.” Duncan drew the word out, not sure what Ben meant by it. Duncan was always up for a good fondle, but what prompted Ben to volunteer the condition?
“You messed me up last time, Duncan. If you weren’t interested, you should have said something.” Ben motioned him to the porch.
“Last time?”
Ben let out a beleaguered groan. “C’mon. Don’t play the ignorance card. If you were only interested in a quickie, you should have told me that up front.”
Duncan’s small chuckle was one of confusion and discomfort. “Dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ben paled. When his eyes dropped away, they weren’t quick enough to hide the hurt Duncan saw there. Duncan took the porch steps in two leaps, reaching Ben’s side, and catching his arm before he moved away.
“Ben, you’re hot, ridiculously adorable in a buttoned-up kind of way. If I’d ever had a quickie with you, I’d be reliving every moment.” His eyes searched Ben’s when they lifted in surprise. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Confusion registered in Ben’s face. He looked disgusted, not relieved, which wasn’t at all the direction Duncan would have wanted that admission to go.
“Last Spring Festival, Duncan. You and I went off into the woods together. Was I that forgettable?”
“God, no! I still remember what your lips taste like.” Duncan grinned. “Never expected you to plant one on me like that, but hell if I was going to turn you away.”
“You remember kissing me?”
“I believe you kissed me,” Duncan teased.
Ben’s cheeks flushed, but the more Duncan studied Ben, the more he realized Ben wasn’t being coy or shy, he was getting pissed off. Again, not the direction he’d hoped to take with Ben.
“What about the rest of it?”
Duncan fell silent, searching his mind for anything that would explain what Ben was talking about. He replayed the whole evening, the kiss, the dancing, the moment he’d seen Gibbs following Ben—
“Oh. Oh! Oh,
God, you thought that was me?” Duncan said suddenly.
“Don’t fuck with me, Duncan. I know it was you.”
“Hell, I wish it had been. I was definitely interested.”
Ben folded his arms across his chest. Silently, he stared Duncan down. After a moment of silence, Ben cocked an eyebrow. Evidently, he was waiting for Duncan to explain himself. Duncan sighed.
“I saw you head off into the woods with someone. I was standing in the gazebo with Charlie, trying to talk him out of asking the Sheriff’s son to dance. He’s always trying to goad the man, and I knew he wouldn’t take that well. The son, on the other hand, probably would have jumped at the chance to piss off his father.”
“It was you,” Ben insisted.
“No,” Duncan replied just as emphatically. “It wasn’t.”
“He was built just like you. Same height and everything.”
“It wasn’t me.”
“If it wasn’t you, who was it?” Ben argued.
“If he hasn’t told you himself, then he has his reasons.”
The crunch of feet scuffling gravel reached them. Gibbs walked around the corner of the drive, hands in his pockets, and hair mussed. Ben’s eyes brightened, before coming back to Duncan.
Interesting.
“This isn’t over. We’ll talk about this later, and you will tell me who it was,” Ben insisted.
Ben turned his back on them, lifting his chin toward the trees, as though he were searching for something, before settling down on the swing bench. Gibbs climbed the steps. Duncan put the six pack down on a rough-hewn table, grabbed a bottle, and propped against one of the solid wooden posts holding up the porch overhang. He tipped the bottle to Ben, then twisted off the cap, and took a long drink.
“There’s nothing like a cold beer on a cold night,” Duncan said, to break the awkward silence. “Have a seat Gibbs.” He motioned to the empty spot beside Ben.
Gibbs shot him a look, but wandered over, taking the open spot and sending a quick smile toward Ben.
“So,” Ben said. “Here we are.”
“Yep,” Gibbs agreed. “We’re definitely here.” He reached for two bottles, holding one for Ben.
