Which made Evan jumpy.
The cycle was never-ending.
* * *
“So I'm going to take the kids for the long weekend if that's okay,” Ellie said as she hung out, elbows down on the kitchen counter. “You guys didn't have anything planned did you?”
Matt and Evan were double-teaming dinner—Matt going in and out to the grill on the back deck and Evan roasting potatoes and onions on the stovetop. Matt paused in mid-walk and checked the almighty center-of-everything calendar on the side of the fridge.
“Nothing on the calendar. Evan?”
Evan turned around, and Matt saw the weird expression crossing his face. He shuttered an inner sigh and went out to commune with the steaks.
When he came back in, Evan was in the fridge, and his late wife's sister was smiling.
“So I take it you got the kids for the long weekend?” Matt said, putting the empty platter in the sink.
“Yes.” The petite woman clapped her hands together. Evan's former sister-in-law had been a big supporter of theirs, particularly helpful since Sherri and Ellie's parents were not—as might be expected—thrilled that their grandchildren were now living in a home with their father and his boyfriend. There were occasional threats during angry phone calls, but Ellie could be counted on to calm her parents down—mostly by suggesting they had no money for a lawyer and no chance of getting the children so unless they wanted to never see their grandchildren again, shut up.
Then she moved in with her boyfriend, who was African American, and completed the living hell that was her parents' lives.
Matt occasionally considered feeling bad for them.
“Walt is taking us to Woodstock. His family has a cabin up there, so I thought we could do some hiking and maybe attend a concert.”
“Niiiice.” Matt gave Evan a sideways look; his boyfriend still wasn't fully involved in the conversation. “Is there room for me in the van?”
Ellie laughed it off and sipped her iced tea.
A few minutes later, Matt was back on the deck with the long fork, poking steaks and drinking a Heineken. A nice late summer night, sun setting over the rows of brick houses, occasional trees blotting the orange glow. Suburbia at its best. He heard the sliding door open and didn't turn around; one of the kids would have loudly announced their presence. The silence meant it was Evan.
“You got a problem with the kids going away? I mean, Ellie and Walt are as trustworthy as you get.”
Evan leaned against the fence and signed.
“Of course I trust Ellie and Walt. The kids'll have a great time. Elizabeth might already be packing.”
“Then what's the big deal?”
“I don't know!”
Matt heard the frustration and counted to twenty. Slowly.
“Sure you do. You're pissed because someone else thought to take your kids somewhere cool.”
“That's not true.”
“Of course it is. You get pissed because I'm home and taking care of shit. You get pissed because Ellie knew it was Labor Day weekend and you didn't.” Matt swore he wasn't picking a fight—at least in his mind—but shit, if he hadn't suddenly arrived at a wall with no side route of avoidance.
Evan sputtered for a second, but he didn't storm off and he didn't immediately deny anything Matt had said.
Matt poked the steak. It sizzled at him.
“How did I not know there was a long weekend coming up?”
Matt considered this. There were several answers. He felt the best one was, “You didn't have to.” It wasn't posed as a question.
“What?”
“You didn't have to. If Ellie didn't come up with something, I would have. Do you have off? Did you ask?” Matt chuckled despite the lack of levity under the setting sun.
“I've been busy.”
Matt finally turned to face his boyfriend, catching the tight, chiseled features and military haircut, the neat-as-a-pin clothes even as they were “relaxing.”
“Babe, you're always busy. You're always working, and that's cool—I get that. I used to be you.” He laughed again, moving the finished steaks to the platter. “But you can't do that and expect shit to get done and then be pissed about it.”
“I should be able to do more…” Evan's voice was soft. He moved off the fence and into Matt's personal space, and that melted whatever pissiness might be working up in his soul.
“You're fine and all, but you're not Superman.”
“You gave up school…”
“I went to school to find out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Turns out I want to chase filthy-minded boys away from Katie and feed this battalion of humans you created.”
Evan made a frustrated sound, his hands balled into fists. Matt punctuated his next words with the long fork, feeling ballsy as all get-out. “And you know? I get that that freaks you out, that I'm doing what Sherri did.” Saying her name aloud felt bold. “But hey, here's an idea—appreciate it, get over it or change some shit if you don't like it. But give me some credit, okay? This isn't all about you.”
He got the platter and his beer and very purposefully walked into the kitchen.
Goddamn, that went well. Okay, maybe Evan was thinking about punching him or changing the locks. But for Matt, the screaming avoider, that was epic. He almost wanted to call his friend Liz the headshrinker and point out how awesomely mature that just went.
“Hey, dinner's ready,” he called, waiting for the stampede of feet. Ellie was setting the table with Elizabeth's help.
“Where's Daddy?”
“Shutting off the grill. He'll be right in,” Matt said smoothly, throwing his empty into the recycling and grabbing another. “Ellie, you want something more grown-up than lemonade or Diet Coke?”
“Can you open the bottle of wine I brought?” she called.
“Ohhh, classy. What, did you think we only had beer or something?”
“Do you only have beer?”
“Yes.”
Matt opened the cabinet door.
“Uhh…”
“A juice glass is fine. At least tell me there's a corkscrew,” Ellie said.
“Yeah, it came with the bottle opener.”
* * *
Dinner was nice. Evan joined them, quiet at first, then warming up. The kids were jazzed for a trip with Ellie and Walt, who had no children and a lot of spare income, and that meant lots of treats. They discussed the supplies needed for a three-hour drive, staying in a cabin for three days, and the ride back; apparently this involved a lot of chips, canned pasta, and bottles of soda.
Matt glared at Elizabeth who dissolved into snickers as Ellie promised as much canned pasta as they wanted.
“Just 'cause it's a vacation,” Matt said, mock stern as he gestured toward the little girl with his fork.
“They'll eat healthy, I promise,” Ellie backtracked, but from her expression, Matt knew she'd cave. Probably before they left the city limits. These kids were that good, with the big eyes and sweet smiles and conning ways. Adults were putty in their hands.
The conversation went on, louder and louder until Matt found himself watching Katie, Danny, and Elizabeth compete for their Aunt Ellie's attention. He forgot sometimes their lack of a female figure; teachers were one thing, but these kids had been raised almost entirely by Sherri as Evan worked those crazy detective hours. To go from that to testosterone heaven couldn't have been easy.
He found himself glancing over at Evan, sitting at his side but off in his own world.
“Hey, we should do something for the long weekend,” he murmured. “Go away, just the two of us.”
“I probably…”
Matt smelled “have to work” as clear as the lingering charcoal from outside. He just nodded and looked back toward the kids.
“I probably have to talk to Vic, find out the schedule. Maybe not the whole three days but at least two,” Evan's voice found Matt, low and tense and tinged with something desperate.
Now Matt felt gui
lty for playing the Sherri card outside.
“Listen…”
“I'll take care of all of it, okay? Just leave it to me.”
Matt wanted to apologize but didn't. Something told him it would just make things worse for Evan.
Chapter Four
Evan waved at the kids from the front door as Walt pulled the Expedition he'd rented out of the driveway. They were overpacked and stocked with enough food for the apocalypse, all smiles and blown kisses as they disappeared from sight.
He didn't let it bother him that they'd be so far away. That he'd failed to think of something fun for their last long weekend of summer—his and Matt's spat on the deck that night was so spot-on he could still feel the arrow in the middle of the bull's-eye. At least he'd salvaged something for him and Matt; the small house on the beach in Montauk was ridiculously expensive but worth it. Evan wanted to say thank you and I'm sorry and a couple of other things it made him blush to think about.
Evan hadn't expected to be making all the same mistakes again. He didn't expect after his wife's death to fall in love again, let alone to fall in love with another man.
He'd almost fucked it up. Almost pissed it all away in a swoop of fear, and that still haunted him, even as Matt almost seamlessly became part of their lives. The kids loved him. They didn't just accept him, they demanded him as part of their lives. Evan had no excuses.
So of course, after all that dumb luck, he was working steadily on screwing it up.
When Sherri died so tragically, so suddenly over two years ago, all Evan could think of was how he'd failed her as a husband. How he depended on her too much, how he left her holding the bag one too many times. How much did he want that time back, to apologize or to make it up to her? That wasn't going to happen with her—but he would be damned if he repeated the same mistakes with Matt.
Back in the house, Evan spied the two suitcases near the front door. Upstairs he could hear the shower going. He absently reached into his pocket to check his messages, then threw the phone on the couch.
“Seriously, Evan,” he mumbled, kicking off his sneakers as he marched upstairs.
Man on a mission.
By the time he reached the second-floor master bedroom Evan was naked—embarrassingly naked and semihard and shivering a little from both states of being as he put his hand on the doorknob.
Matt was singing. Or more like humming loudly with the occasionally remembered word thrown in.
Evan's heart thumped, and his dick got a little more interested.
He pushed into the room before he lost his nerve—ridiculous as it might seem. Not usually the aggressor, not usually the one that made the first move. But this vacation was the start of a new resolution, one where Evan remembered how tenuous life could be and how not to take his boyfriend for granted.
If anyone in the world knew how life changed on a dime without warning or preamble, Evan did. And he didn't want to ruin his relationship with Matt making the same old mistakes.
The steam level indicated Matt was fully enjoying the water tank and the absence of anyone flushing the toilet. Evan stepped over a pile of towels and Matt's sweatpants, his hand pausing and wavering over the folds of the shower curtain.
“I see your shadow,” Matt called over the pulse of the water.
“Those razor-sharp cop instincts still exist.”
“Also? I've seen Psycho like forty times.” His boyfriend pulled the curtain back, soapy and smiling. “You have a license for that lethal weapon?” He gave Evan's dick a pointed look.
“That's a line?”
“I told you—no more lines.” And with that Matt erased Evan's foot-dragging seduction and reached for him. “No more courting. You're stuck with me.”
Evan ducked into the shower, pushing Matt a step back and stealing the still-hot spray. He tipped his head back, rubbing his hands over his chest and arms in a way he knew Matt appreciated.
Appreciative enough to trace the same patterns with Matt's own hand, stepping under the water to close the distance between them.
“This is a surprise,” Matt murmured, pressing his mouth against Evan's pulse point, licking up under his ear. Evan shivered as he wound his arms around Matt's broad shoulders.
“Kickoff to vacation,” Evan said, pushing them out of the spray to lean his lover against the tiled wall. “Celebrate the quiet.”
“I like it.” Matt's dick rubbed against Evan's stomach. “Makes me look forward to what you have planned for the rest of the weekend.”
Evan's body blushed and burned as he rocked his hips against Matt's. They'd gone only so far in the past year, both of them exploring all the possibilities but not quite ready for the “final frontier.”
Matt wanted it.
Evan feared it.
And then underneath, he thought about it entirely too much to deny that he wanted it too.
There was a porn DVD hidden in the garage. He'd watched it a few too many times, alone, which made it a dirty secret in his mind, something so utterly insane that he knew Matt would strain a muscle laughing at him when the truth came out.
“I have a lot planned,” Evan said boldly, pulling Matt's mouth from his neck and burying his tongue down his throat to stop the conversation.
The kiss made everything better; Evan didn't have to say the words, but he could express the want with his mouth, his tongue making pointed stabs against Matt's until they were both mimicking the unnamed need with frantic mouths and urgent hips.
Matt pulled away, his eyes dark and needy. For a split second Evan almost demanded it now, asked for and begged for it, but his knees didn't hold him up long enough to give in. He dropped down, porcelain hard and unforgiving against his knees. He didn't spend too much time on that; he was too busy opening his mouth and pulling the hard red length of Matt's dick against the back of his throat.
He was good at this. Almost too good for a guy with two sex partners, ever. Where Matt could draw it out and leave him begging and cursing, Evan was quick and dirty.
Matt loved it. Loved it and praised him and stroked the short coarse hair on his scalp and gasped and pushed, and Evan ate it up. Sucked it down. Turned himself inside out as he tried to take his lover deeper and make the sounds turn even more harsh and desperate…
It felt like a need, like a drug. He choked a little, felt the water from the shower splattering against the side of his head, but he didn't stop. Didn't even pause. Just sucked and pressed his hands into Matt's hipbones and trailed them down to the inside of his thighs and then back around to tightly grasp his ass.
And that was the key. No need to do more. Just the hint of it, the fantasy he knew Matt had (had whispered in his ear many nights, mouth quiet and frantic, hand on Evan's dick) and Matt's voice went shaky, and Evan knew the end was near.
He didn't pull away.
He should find that shameful or dirty maybe, how easily it came to him. How much it turned him on when that first tiny jerk against his tongue came, how he sucked harder and took it all down his throat, let it flood his mouth, and drank it down.
Dirty little secret—Evan had a few. Matt knew most of them and loved them and loved him.
It was a relief.
And a relief to Matt as he slid down to the bottom of the shower, his hands all over Evan even as he panted through the aftershocks.
“Showers make you really horny—I'm so happy we're going to the beach,” Matt muttered, pulling Evan close for a kiss—all tongue and sloppy and distracting because Evan barely noticed when Matt's warm wet hand closed over his dick. “Can't wait to see what those waves do to you.”
“Already told you…a lot planned,” Evan wheezed, leaning forward on Matt's body, letting him take some of his weight.
“Surfing? Fishing?” Matt gave Evan's dick a wicked twist, down at the base. Evan's body twitched in anticipation.
“Fuck.” It came out a moan, and Evan dropped his head against Matt's shoulder, shoving his entire body to find some sort of relief.
Except “ohgodplease” when he came obscenely hard against Matt's thigh.
A quick, cold rinse later, Matt was drying off and eyeing Evan in a bemused sort of way. Evan's shy uptight self got out of the shower—leaving the inner slut behind apparently—and he wrapped a towel around his waist.
Matt rolled his eyes.
“Puritan,” he muttered as he walked into the bedroom. Naked.
Evan had nothing to retort, nothing at all.
Matt was in cargo shorts and a T-shirt when Evan was done cleaning up the bathroom. His dark hair curled down around his neck, falling into a flop over his eyes.
“You need a haircut,” Evan pointed out and dropped the towel long enough to pull on some boxers.
“Going on vacation, don't need one.” He lay back on the bed with a happy sigh. “Might not shave either.”
“You're a wild man.” Evan put on shorts and an ironed polo shirt—then quickly changed into an NYPD T-shirt that had seen better days before Matt noticed his inability to “dress down.”
“I will, however, be taking lots and lots of showers,” Matt smirked, sitting and standing in a quick motion. He stalked over to Evan with a gleam in his eye.
“Yeah, I got that.”
“I wonder what would happen if we were naked in a waterfall…”
“You watching cable porn-on-demand again?”
Matt didn't look guilty. He didn't hide his wants or desires. Ever. “Maybe.”
Evan leaned back against the dresser and couldn't help himself—he smiled. It was next to impossible to do anything but when Matt gave him that look.
“I'm a little nervous what you have packed.” That was only half true. He was a little nervous and desperately curious. A weekend away without the kids would be an opportunity for Matt to break out the whips and chains…
“What I have packed? What about you?”
“Me?” Evan flashed on the DVD in the garage. The rental had electronic equipment. They could watch it, they could…imitate it.
Matt snickered; he was clearly teasing, and suddenly Evan felt indignant. Why was it so shocking that he would have whips and chains of his own to pack?
Duty and Devotion Page 3
