Duty and Devotion

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Duty and Devotion Page 10

by Tere Michaels


  Evan nodded slowly. “You've never seen anything like that before, I'm sure.”

  “Understatement.” Griffin's knees got wobbly, and he sat down on the couch, hard. “So right now I'm running on a continuous loop of what would have happened if Jim hadn't gotten to him in time and he killed Daisy, or what if he had gotten Jim while they were struggling, and then I kinda want to throw up.” He put his head in his hands and shook.

  Evan sat down on the coffee table in front of him, close enough to be comforting but hopefully not intrusive.

  “Neither of those things happened.”

  “They could have.”

  “Yeah, they could have, but they didn't. And that moment is over, and you can move on. Worst-case scenarios about the past aren't really going to help you. Or Jim.”

  Griffin sighed. “Yeah.”

  “And I'm—I'm sorry it took this for me to be nice to you.” Evan cleared his throat.

  “Yeah. This is sort of one of those perspective things, right?”

  “Right.” Evan smiled in spite of himself. The door behind them rattled and opened, with Matt and the filled ice bucket being followed by a rolling cart. Evan turned around and noticed Matt frowning.

  “What's wrong?”

  “The security in this place is shit,” he said, putting the ice bucket down on the table. “I don't want reporters trying to get up here.”

  “There are reporters at this hotel?”

  “Yeah, and they probably followed your friends too.”

  “Shit.”

  Evan stood up and tipped the waitstaff who were listening and watching as he shooed them out the door. “You might want to change hotels in the morning. How long are you here for?”

  “We're booked here until Wednesday, then we were going to make a decision on going home.” Griffin looked back toward the bedroom. “I'm going to check on Jim. If we're changing hotels, it won't be until Jim feels better.”

  Matt nodded. “Yeah. I hate leaving you guys without a line of defense, though.”

  Evan saw the vulnerable expression on Griffin's face and the look of concern on Matt's and made a decision—the only one that made sense at the moment.

  “Matt, why don't you stay here tonight—sleep on the couch. That way Griffin doesn't have to worry about anything but Jim.”

  He got a double look of surprise.

  “Tomorrow we'll figure out where you should go. Maybe we can find a private residence for you instead of a hotel, so there won't be records.”

  Matt was smiling at him—still calculating in his head but smiling. Evan smiled back.

  “Great idea. If it's okay with you, Griffin.”

  “Sure, thanks.” Griffin got up and started walking back toward the bedroom. “I'm going to check on Jim and probably just stay in there so—thanks for staying Matt, and take whatever you need and, uh, Evan—thanks. A lot.” He gave them a wave and closed the bedroom door behind him.

  “He's freaked out. Make sure he gets some sleep,” Evan said—then felt Matt's arms go around him.

  “You may be a jealous dick, but you always come through in a crisis,” he murmured, and Evan returned the embrace tightly.

  “I'm sorry about dinner. The stick in my ass was poking my brain, and I didn't remember my manners.”

  “Lovely visual, thanks.” Matt kissed him on the mouth. “I'm still kinda pissed off, but I don't have the energy to deal with it now.”

  Evan nodded. He deserved it. “Fair enough. Let me note again—really, really sorry. No excuses.”

  “True.” Matt sighed. “Will deal with it later. I have to keep my head in this game for the moment.”

  Evan gave Matt a sincere smile. “You want me to stay?”

  “Nah, I got this. And I don't think you're gonna want to leave the kids all alone the whole night.”

  Evan shook his head—he hadn't even thought of that. “Well, there goes Dad of the Year again.”

  “Shut up—I'll call you in the morning.” Matt kissed him again, and when he would have pulled away, Evan deepened the kiss, angling his mouth to delve his tongue deeply around Matt's.

  They separated slowly, and Matt's eyes fluttered open with a question in them.

  “Thanks for putting up with me,” Evan murmured.

  Matt shrugged. “I love you. What else am I supposed to do?”

  “I'm trying—just know that.”

  “Me too.”

  “What are you trying to do?”

  “Curb my need to throw you down on the couch and do dirty things to you?”

  Evan blushed and took a step back. “You're on guard duty.”

  “When I'm off duty?”

  “I'll see you at home.”

  Evan slept alone in his bed that night, for the first time, he realized, since he and Matt bought the house.

  He hated it.

  He rolled over, face down, trying to shut out the cavernous emptiness of the room without Matt. He tried to sleep, but the tension of the evening, the sudden shift in emotions—meeting the infamous Jim—it kept him awake.

  The infamous Jim of the phone calls and the one-night and the book. Ridiculously good-looking and smooth, and so very much in love with young Griffin Drake. When Evan had gotten over the fact that his “competition” in Matt's male lover category was gorgeous, he'd had to contend with his own uncomfortable envy of the way Jim and Griffin interacted in the restaurant.

  They were a couple—no apologies, no glancing around to see who was looking, no hiding their relationship. And here was Evan, nearly jumping out of his skin whenever Matt came too close.

  He tried to imagine taking Sherri to dinner and treating her like a business acquaintance. He tried to imagine living long enough to try and explain to her he didn't want complete strangers knowing about them being in love.

  Shame coursed through him.

  Evan thought he'd taken such a huge step when he invited Matt back into their lives. But he was realizing that he hadn't gone all the way.

  He needed to be entirely honest with himself before he could expect to be honest with Matt. Or his kids. Or the rest of the world, for that matter.

  Evan tossed and turned until daylight crept into the bedroom. Still so many questions and not enough answers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The squad room hit its usual Monday morning madness level by eight a.m. Burning on only a few hours sleep, Evan was on his second cup of coffee, running names through a database, when a shadow loomed over his desk.

  “Evan Cerelli?” a man's voice asked.

  Evan looked up at the young uniformed officer and nodded. “Yes?”

  “Hi, I'm Jesse Masters with GOAL.”

  Evan extended his hand. “GOAL?”

  “Gay Officers Action League. We're a fraternal order of criminal justice professionals. I wanted to introduce myself.”

  He glanced around to see if anyone was watching or listening; his fellow detective Moses was the closest to his desk, and he was very clearly listening.

  “Nice to meet you.” Evan stood up and glanced around, wondering if there was a private space they could took.

  “Chris Callas gave me your name—I hope you don't mind.”

  “No, no, of course not.” Evan tried to remember if he knew Chris was a lesbian and realized he had no clue one way or another. Helena never mentioned it.

  “I was hoping you might be able to make our next monthly meeting. Second Tuesday of every month at The Center on West 13th Street.”

  “Meeting? Gosh, I don't know, to be honest. I have a commute to Queens and four kids to get home to.” Evan smiled politely. “But if you have a card or something I'll definitely keep it in mind.”

  Jesse reached into his uniform for his wallet and pulled out a card. “Yes, please. I hope you'll consider it. We have a great group of people, lots of events and gatherings. There are many families, so we'd love it if your kids and your partner could join us.”

  For a split second Evan thought “Helena”
but realized that Jesse meant Matt.

  And for a moment he was afraid.

  But Jesse was still smiling, young and friendly, so clearly hoping that Evan would agree to come to his group's meeting. Evan looked down at the card in his hand. “Second Tuesday, you said?”

  “Yes, that's right. If you need directions or have any questions, please feel free to give me a call.”

  Evan extended his hand. “Sure, Jesse—thank you. I'll let you know.”

  As he watched the young man turn and leave, Evan felt eyes strong and steady on his back. He turned and gave Moses a glare.

  “Can I help you?”

  Moses shrugged. “Nah. I was just eavesdropping. Heard everything I wanted to.”

  Evan resisted the urge to give him the finger.

  “How's Jim feeling?” Evan asked when he called Matt a few hours later.

  “Sore and grouchy. I'm pretty sure the latter is a fairly constant thing. Griffin said it's a sure sign he's okay.”

  “How are you doing?”

  “I want my toothbrush and clean underwear.” Matt sighed through the line. “But Griffin's still jumpy, and I'll feel better when they're checked into someplace no one knows about.”

  “About that—Helena's mom's place is a studio, but she's been staying at Vic's, so it's free.”

  “Tsk, tsk, kids today. Living in sin. Doing it like fiends before they even exchange vows…”

  “Boss. Best friend's mother. Please refrain.”

  “Puritan.”

  “Is that a yes on the studio? I can drop off the keys during lunch.”

  “Personally drop off the keys? I'm going to say yes just to be able to see you.”

  “I saw you a few hours ago!” Evan protested, even as he smiled.

  “I hate sleeping without you, okay? I miss your snoring.”

  “You're very romantic.” Evan caught Moses' eye and bodily turned, lowering his voice. “I'll be there by one thirty. With the keys.”

  “Will you stay long enough for me to cop a feel?”

  “One thirty. And I'll also bring you a toothbrush.”

  “Now see? That's romantic.”

  Evan murmured an “I love you” and hung up, swinging his chair around to face Moses.

  “Am I really that interesting?”

  “Nah, not really.” Moses went back to the files on his desk, leaving Evan frustrated, something immediately noticed by Helena as she returned from a meeting.

  “What's the bee in your bonnet?”

  He gestured toward Moses, who waved in response.

  “Whatever. Did you talk to Matt?”

  “Yeah, they're going to take the studio. You have the keys?”

  “Uh-huh. You dropping them off?”

  “Yes.”

  “I'm going with.” Helena sat down and turned her computer on.

  “Why?” Evan's suspicions were raised.

  “Because I want to meet Jim.”

  “Oh hell no.”

  “My mom's apartment, my keys to give, I want to go and meet him.”

  “Why in God's name?”

  “Dying of curiosity. I want to see the guy that makes you spit with jealousy every time you hear his name.”

  Evan slammed a drawer open and closed for effect. “I'm past that.”

  “Ha!”

  “It's true.” Evan lowered his voice. “I'm trying to have some perspective on this whole thing, and I think I've achieved it.”

  “Ahahahaha.” She slapped the top of her desk, drawing a few turned heads. “Oh my God, you are lying to yourself.”

  “Okay, personal discussions in the workplace over. Illegal gambling operation files opened and being discussed.”

  “You act like this is over. I still have the keys.” She pulled them out of her purse and jingled them like she was coaxing a baby to smile. “You will tell me all about this perspective on the way over.”

  When Evan arrived at the hotel suite—with a smirking Helena in tow, he was flustered and irritated, a state that only increased when the door opened courtesy of Shane Lowry and revealed a veritable crowd of people.

  Bennet Aames, Daisy Baylor, Jim, Griffin, and Matt were all sprawled on the various couches with the remains of lunch spread out on tables behind them. Bennet and Matt in particular were deep in conversation.

  “Come in—Good to see you again, Detective,” Shane said as he ushered them in. He shot a glittery smile at Helena. “Shane Lowry.”

  “Detective Helena Abbott,” Helena said smoothly, her voice kicking down a notch.

  “Pleasure.” Shane shut the door behind them. “Can I get you folks anything?”

  “No, thanks.” Evan finally caught Matt's eye, and his boyfriend rose to greet him.

  Shane went over to pour himself some coffee, and Helena leaned close to Evan.

  “Quite the swanky group,” Helena whispered. “That's Shane Lowry, the playwright.”

  “Why do you know that?” Evan whispered back.

  “He's always in the gossip section. Playboy type.” She fluffed her hair.

  “Hey, hi.” Matt leaned in for a quick kiss, stopping midway. Evan completed the movement for him, registering the surprise in his face.

  “Hey, we brought the keys.” He pointed to Helena. “She made me bring her.”

  “Want to meet everyone?” Matt smiled as Helena nodded eagerly.

  Matt brought them over, and another round of introductions were passed around. Evan noticed Jim looked a bit better this morning, even as the bruises were more pronounced. Griffin had an exhausted air about him, and Evan felt himself grow concerned. All this noise couldn't be good for either of them.

  “So I have a little time if you want me to help you guys move over to the studio,” Evan said to Jim.

  “Sounds good.” The older man didn't look at all pleased with the sprawl of people in the room. “We already packed our stuff.”

  “We have the sedan,” Helena reminded Evan. “It's not going to fit everyone.”

  “Oh, I'll give Mr. Haight a ride over. He and I have some business to discuss.” Bennet Aames seemed to say everything like a grand pronouncement. He smiled at Evan. “Your boyfriend has some excellent ideas regarding security.”

  Evan received a spate of glances from everyone except Shane and Daisy, who were oblivious to Evan's general discomfort with public commentary on his romantic status. It didn't bother him—not really—and he smiled.

  “I'm sure he does. We'll go on ahead and meet you there, Matt.”

  And then it was just packing up and moving out. Jim moved slowly with Griffin and Evan back on point and Helena leading the way, with a bellhop and the cart of luggage and Matt bringing up the rear. They moved swiftly down the back service elevator and to where Evan's car was waiting.

  “Hey, we got this down pat,” Matt said as he helped Jim into the car. “Anyone want to join the Secret Service with me?”

  Evan remembered something and walked around to the car to present Matt with a toothbrush, freshly wrapped in plastic and a tiny tube of toothpaste. “See, I remembered,” he said with a smile.

  “Awww, thanks.” Matt gave him an affectionate shot in the arm.

  “See you at the studio in a bit?”

  “Yeah. I don't think Bennet will take too long with his pitch.”

  “Pitch?”

  “Last night I gave him some suggestions, stuff I picked up when I worked for the security company. He seemed into what I was saying. So today he shows up and starts asking me if I would consider doing bodyguard work.”

  “Seriously?” Evan stuck his hands in his pants' pockets. “Like—bodyguard to the stars?”

  Matt shrugged. “I guess so. Jim saving the day last night made him think he wants someone around Daisy all the time. Jim's not based out here or he'd ask him, and since I used to be a cop…” Matt's voice trailed off. “I didn't say yes or anything. I'm just going to listen.”

  “Of course.” Evan thought Matt would be a great bodyguard from a p
rofessional perspective. From a personal standpoint, the very thought threatened to curl his smile into a frown. “Yeah, you should definitely listen.”

  Matt looked at his watch. “You better get going. I'll see you at the studio later. Or home—whatever.”

  “Okay. Yeah. See you later.”

  Matt didn't even try to kiss him good-bye on the busy sidewalk, offering instead just a little wave and then heading back toward the service entrance.

  Evan watched him go, conflicted in a hundred different ways.

  Evan and Helena got Jim and Griffin settled in the neat fourth-floor studio. There was plenty of food to keep them inside without need for deliveries or going out. Everything was fresh and tidy and far more private than a hotel.

  They waited for Matt, even tried his cell a few times, but Evan eventually had to admit that his boyfriend was still mired in business with Bennet.

  “So call if you need anything,” Evan told Griffin. “And please go get some rest. Jim's on the mend; you need to sleep.”

  “Right.” Griffin leaned on the door frame, sagging under the weight. “I'm going to go do that. And thanks a lot, Evan.”

  “You're welcome.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to get back to work. When Matt stops by, tell him I'll see him at home.”

  “Sure.” Griffin smiled wanly. “I, uh—I'm sorry I was a snot to you at the restaurant. Jim told me that you were kinda uncomfortable about being out and like—not out? So I'm sorry I was poking you.”

  Evan flushed, embarrassed. “It's okay. I deserved it. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

  “The making out at the table—totally unplanned, I swear.”

  That made Evan smile. “Actually it made me a little envious.”

  Griffin looked surprised. “Well—Jim was supposed to tell Matt to tell you this before he played action hero, but if you ever need to talk or something about…you know, stuff, I'm a really good listener. And talker, but you probably already knew that.”

  “I did.” Evan paused a beat. “And thanks. I might just take you up on that. But not until you sleep.”

  Griffin saluted. “Deal.”

  “Chris Callas is a lesbian,” Evan heard himself saying as he drove he and Helena back to the station.

  “Uh, right. I kinda already knew that,” Helena said.

 

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