North on Drummond

by K. C. Burn

  Once again, Drew was defeated by Kyle’s arguments. Not that Kyle’s arguments were necessarily watertight, but Drew didn’t have the energy to try and refute them. Cliff would never buy into this fairy tale Kyle was trying to build, but maybe Kyle was right. Not about Cliff having nowhere else to go. Hell, half the nurses—male and female—in the hospital would let him bunk with them. But earlier, in the hospital, Kyle had mentioned getting to know Cliff the man instead of remaining fixated on Cliff the boyhood fantasy. Maybe sharing a place with Cliff for a few days would kill Drew’s useless infatuation and let him move on.

  “Fine, fine. You win.”

  “Of course I do. Feel like standing up now?”

  The bell tinkled out front, signaling a client, and Drew groaned. “I can’t do it today, Kyle. I can’t be Malachi.” Why couldn’t this just be a hangover? At least with a hangover, he’d be just about starting to get better. The doctors couldn’t give him any solid information about how long he’d have headaches or occasional blurred vision, except to say that if it lasted longer than a week, see a neurologist, and if it got worse, go back to the hospital. At least, that’s what he remembered. He should probably review the paperwork they’d sent home with him. Later, though.

  With a frown, Kyle stood and tossed the wet cloth in the sink. “You just wait here a minute. I’ll get rid of whoever it is. I put a sign up that you were indisposed, but the door must be unlocked. Then we’ll get you into bed.”

  Bed. His place was fucking tiny, but the bed had never felt so far away.

  “Maybe it’s Cliff.”

  “Nope. When I texted him, I told him to park in the alley at the back and come in the kitchen door. Last thing you need is someone seeing a uniformed cop going to the front of your shop to scare off the tourists. Be right back.”

  Drew thought Kyle might be wrong about that. Every time anyone in his family got arrested, it seemed to draw a crowd, but maybe that didn’t exactly translate into sales. He’d never discussed the phenomenon with anyone.

  A rapping sound, subtly different than the constant throb in his head, caught Drew’s attention. Was someone knocking at his kitchen door?

  “Is anyone here? Drew? Kyle?”

  Ah, so Cliff was here. Drew waited a moment, but he didn’t hear Kyle respond.

  Drew pulled in a deep breath and forced himself to project his voice. “Come on in. The door’s open.”

  Or he assumed it was. When he was home, he didn’t usually lock the door. Not only did he have very little worth stealing, no one in town was that stupid. Despite last night’s fiasco, his brothers were very protective of him, and from the explanations he’d been given, his concussion was a result of that. An accident of timing. Probably a good one, truth be told. Brett Cavanagh with a broken jaw would mean jail time for one or both of his brothers, whereas Drew with a concussion had been able to keep them safe. Although he still suspected there would be some harsh words exchanged next time Cliff came across either of them.

  A muffled thump and a squeak told Drew Cliff had placed something heavy on the floor next to the kitchen table.

  “Where are you?”

  It was a good question. Where was Kyle? How long did it take to get rid of a client?

  “In here.” This time Drew’s voice was quieter.

  Cliff peered into the bathroom like he was doing a perp check—was that even what it was called? He’d only ever seen it on Law & Order when the cops busted into some suspect’s home; he’d never seen firsthand what happened when any of his relatives had been arrested.

  In seconds, the wary cop became the concerned cop as Cliff knelt beside Drew.

  “Are you okay? Did you fall? How’s your vision? I can call an ambulance.”

  The barrage of questions had Drew blinking in shock, unable to answer any questions fast enough, but he reached out a hand to stop Cliff from pulling out a cell phone.

  “I’m fine.” Drew let out a chuckle but stifled it quickly. “I just stopped here to rest a bit in the cool, and then I guess I dozed off.”

  “And Kyle left you here like that?” Anger made Cliff scowl, and like a flash of lightning, Drew had his first insight into Cliff the man. One he should have twigged to earlier, but morphine was going to be the scapegoat for a lot of things. Cliff had a temper. Drew didn’t recall seeing signs of it in the teenaged Cliff, nor did he feel at all threatened, but a temper. He’d have to remember that.

  “Well, he can’t exactly lift me up.”

  Cliff’s scowl eased up not at all. “Then he should have texted me instead of going off God knows where and leaving you here on the floor.”

  Another laugh escaped, and this one didn’t feel like knives dancing in his brain, which was a big improvement. “God and I happen to know he’s just in the front room, getting rid of a walk-in client. He’s coming right back.”

  “Oh.” This time Cliff’s angry expression faded. “A client. Funny, I guess I never asked what you do for a living.”

  Drew had no trouble interpreting the odd grimace on Cliff’s face. He’d seen it more than once. What did a Drummond do for a living aside from lie around drinking beer, or stealing shit and causing trouble? But he couldn’t hold it against Cliff, since Drew’s brothers pretty much did all that, although nowadays they fixed cars for money more often than stealing them.

  “I’m—”

  Kyle poked his head into the doorway. “Oh, Cliff, good. You can help me get him into bed. Then you can get settled.”

  “I was just getting ready to do that. I should have realized you’d have problems taking care of him, since he’s so much taller than you.”

  Cliff’s words weren’t harsh or derisive, but it didn’t matter. Kyle had a bit of a temper on him too.

  “Excuse me. Are you calling me weak and short? I’ve lifted people over my head and spun around.”

  Cliff laughed because it sounded like Kyle was trash-talking—badly. “Of course you have.”

  “Truth,” Drew said. “I’ve seen him.”

  “I can defend myself.” Kyle snapped at him, and Drew held out his hands in supplication. “I’m a trained dancer. It was my job to hold up women over my head. I’m probably stronger than you are.”

  Okay, now Kyle might be stretching the truth a little, but very few people realized how much strength Kyle packed into his very compact form.

  “Then why is Drew still on the floor?”

  Kyle’s anger shattered, leaving behind a shamed look. Drew hated to see it, because he knew it was Kyle facing the death of his dreams all over again.

  “Because I blew out my knee a year ago, and it’s not reliable.”

  Cliff gave Kyle a sympathetic smile, one that Drew wasn’t pleased to see. If anyone was getting a date with Cliff out of this misguided matchmaking attempt, it had better be him, not Kyle.

  “Hey, man. Injuries can happen. Don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it. Like now.”

  Before Drew could draw another breath, Cliff had wrapped arms around Drew’s chest and hoisted him to his feet. A second later, Cliff had an arm around Drew’s waist, holding him upright, while Drew’s arm dangled limply across Cliff’s shoulders.

  As quickly as it had arrived, the tension between Cliff and Kyle disappeared. Kyle winked at him. “Let’s get him into bed.”

  Drew wanted to groan, but most of all he wanted to lie down in his bed and go back to sleep.

  They shuffled along the tiny hall into his bedroom. With a gentleness Drew wouldn’t have expected from anyone, Cliff eased him under the covers before turning to Kyle.

  Once Drew had relaxed back into his pillows, he remembered how long Kyle had been in his shop. “Who’d you have to kick out? Some persistent tourist? You were gone a while.”

  Kyle shrugged. “It wasn’t anything. You concentrate on getting well.”

  Obviously. He needed to go back to work.

  Cliff turned to Kyle. “I can stick around for a few hours now. Get set up. I’m on shift again at two
, and then I won’t be done until after midnight, although I can stop by during breaks.”

  “Sure, yeah, that will be good. I can stay with him this evening.” Kyle dug around in his pocket. “Here’s Drew’s spare key.”

  Drew still had mixed feelings about handing Cliff Garcia free access to his home.

  “What about your plans for the weekend?” Drew had to get some payback for this idiotic plan.

  “Oh, they don’t start until tomorrow.” Kyle’s wink made it more than clear what he intended to do for the weekend, and somehow Drew didn’t think he was lying. Maybe he was going to head into Tampa by himself. No, more likely he was going to stalk Brett Cavanagh, see if he could get lucky.

  Cliff, however, seemed a little uncomfortable with Kyle’s blatant hint. “Right. Well, have fun.”

  “Oh. Yes, I’ll get out of your hair. God knows this place can’t easily accommodate a threesome, now can it?”

  Cliff’s reddened ears attested to his discomfort with the sexual innuendo, and when Cliff wasn’t looking, Drew flipped Kyle the bird. He wasn’t too thrilled talking about sex in Cliff’s company either.

  As soon as Kyle left, the kitchen door slamming behind him, Cliff sat on the bed beside Drew. “Is there a thermostat I can turn down? You and I are both used to the heat, but it’s a scorcher out there today, and this can’t be good for your headache.”

  The heat from Cliff’s proximity bothered Drew more than the air temperature. Cliff was close enough to touch. One slight movement and not only could Drew touch Cliff, he could touch Cliff’s cock. Feeling like total crap didn’t mute the strong temptation to do exactly that. This close to Cliff’s groin, Drew could clearly see Cliff was sporting a very healthy package.

  “Drew?”

  He flicked his eyes upward, hoping Cliff would attribute his flush to the heat of the room, not that he’d gotten caught staring at Cliff’s fly.

  “Uh, Kyle was going to have one of my brothers bring by some window A/C units.”

  Cliff’s lip curled, and in other circumstances, Drew might have laughed. “They’re not that bad, you know.”

  Maybe a cop wouldn’t care that they’d done their best. They’d protected the runt of the litter—the gay runt of the litter—almost all his life. They’d helped their grandma put him through college for a business degree, although the funds probably weren’t the cleanest, because Drew had wanted something different, better. They’d been good brothers, trying to make up for the deficit of their parents and the Drummond legacy.

  “Well, you can try to convince me later.” Cliff patted his arm briefly. Drew would have to convince the man, because even if Cliff only stayed at his place for a couple of days, he didn’t want his brothers to get in trouble with the police. Not over him.

  Cliff smiled down at him. “You need to rest. Will your brothers come right in when they get here, or will they knock?”

  “Oh, they’ll knock.”

  It had been embarrassing all around when they’d barged in one time while Drew had been enjoying some porn. They’d never entered without knocking again.

  “Good. I’m going to bring my bag in here and set up my bed. Take a nap before my shift, if you don’t mind. But I’ll wake up if they knock.”

  The shadows beneath Cliff’s eyes had deepened, and Drew became aware of how exhausted Cliff must be. Probably rivaled Drew’s head-injury- and morphine-induced lethargy.

  For a moment, Cliff’s hand hovered over Drew’s bandage, but then he cleared his throat and stood. He headed to the only chair in the room and began fiddling with the frame to extend it out into a bed.

  With drowsy eyes, Drew watched. If Cliff was going to strip down, he wanted to see it, even if Cliff didn’t get entirely naked, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

  Chapter Ten

  A loud thumping had Cliff sitting bolt upright. He stared around through gritty, sleep-fuzzy eyes. Where the fuck was… Right. He was at Drew’s, otherwise known as the sweat lodge of death. Sweat soaked his tiny bright yellow briefs, leaving them clinging to his body. His hair was damp, and he maybe stank, just a bit. He’d long since kicked off the sheet he’d used to protect his modesty from Drew, despite Drew having fallen asleep before Cliff had even unbuttoned his shirt.

  Drew still slept peacefully a few feet away, so perhaps the banging had been in Cliff’s dreams, but it came again, louder this time, and recognizable as someone knocking at the door. Cliff scrambled off the futon, hoping to prevent Drew from being awakened. No sense in both of them having interrupted sleep. With a groan, he realized he’d been asleep for less than an hour. He was going to have to call in sick. He’d never be able to function. More importantly, he’d never be able to prevent himself from responding to a full eight hours or more of Brett’s taunts.

  The knock came again, quick and insistent. Drew frowned and stirred, leaving Cliff no choice but to answer the door in his skimpy underwear.

  “What the hell— Oh, it’s you.” One of the evil twins stood at Drew’s kitchen door, a window A/C unit slung over a beefy shoulder. “About time. It’s roasting in here.”

  The twin stood on the stoop and narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing here? Taking advantage of my sick brother?”

  Exhaustion had blinded Cliff to what answering Drew’s door in his briefs would look like, especially to a Neanderthal like one half of the Drummond twins. At least he wasn’t wearing a jock. When he was planning to work, he wore briefs because they were the most comfortable under his uniform pants. But he was still gay, so they were tiny, sexy, brightly colored briefs, and he probably looked like he’d just had sex. “I can explain. Which one are you, again?”

  “I’m Wyatt. And it’d better be a good explanation.”

  The guy was pissed as hell and holding a heavy metal object that he could easily use to crush Cliff. Antagonizing him wouldn’t be smart. Unfortunately, Cliff didn’t feel anything but antagonistic.

  “Just looking after Drew. Kyle asked me to stay with him because he couldn’t.”

  Wyatt’s fingers gripped the A/C unit tighter, and without conscious thought, Cliff took a step back.

  “In your underwear? I can’t see how that is necessary. You a fag?”

  It was like he was back in high school again, facing off with his adversaries, but this time Cliff had a lot more personal and professional experience with belligerent assholes under his belt.

  “My sexuality isn’t any of your business, Wyatt.” Although the gossip meant he’d probably get an earful eventually. “None of this is your business, actually, since your brother is a grown man.”

  Wyatt set the A/C unit on the floor and stood, clearly poised to start a fight in Drew’s kitchen, for fuck’s sake. Cliff needed to choose his words carefully. He wasn’t interested in taking on the more muscular man, but neither was he going to let Wyatt intimidate him.

  “I was taking a nap, on the futon, while your brother rests. There is nothing going on here but me helping out an injured man.” Cliff lifted an eyebrow as if daring Wyatt to contradict him. Because if truth be told, Cliff would very much like there to be another reason for him to be mostly naked in Drew’s house. For the first time, he wondered how out and experienced Drew was. Even if there was someone else in this town in the closet, but willing to have a discreet relationship with Drew, the guy had to know dealing with one or both of the evil twins was a possibility.

  “Fuck you!” Wyatt’s voice rattled the dishes in the sink. “You think I can’t see all those perverts eyeing my brother like he was some helpless girl? Rob and I, we’ve made sure none of them touch him. I can see it in your eyes too. I don’t care who the fuck you are, but you’d better not mess with Drew. Or you’ll be sorry.”

  Cliff slammed a fist on the table, causing more rattles. “Have you seriously been treating him like some eighteenth-century virgin heiress? What the fuck is the matter with you? And you have no say in what I do or don’t do. Drew is a fucking adult.” His nostrils flared as he
tried to hide how much he wanted to mess with Drew, over and over. “As for threatening a police officer? I can let that slide, but if you start anything, you’ll be cooling your heels in jail. Got that?”

  “Please. Rob and I have been dodging arrests since that first day we met.”

  Good to know their first meeting, at ten years old, had been as memorable for the evil twins as it had for him. It had started with Cliff coming along the twins roughing up a younger, smaller boy and ended with a bloody fight, setting up their animosity for the rest of their school years.

  Wyatt sneered. “Besides, it’s kinda hard to prove shit if you don’t know which of us was doing what.”

  Almost as an automatic response, Cliff’s fist shot out, landing directly on Wyatt’s nose. The satisfaction of hearing the bone break was tempered by his horror at taking the shot in the first place. Didn’t stop his mouth from running off on its own, like his fist had. “Now I can tell you apart.”

  Wyatt’s animalistic roar made Cliff wish he were wearing boots he could shake in, but he wasn’t backing down. The twins had some fucking misguided notions of what it meant to be gay, and if they were trying to enforce Drew’s celibacy by threatening potential suitors, he was sure he could get a restraining order against them, at least. And he’d be there to fuck them up if they tried violating it. Assuming he didn’t get kicked off the force for punching Wyatt in the first place. Not that this was the first time he’d bloodied Wyatt, but it was the first time he’d done so after becoming a cop.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  Drew’s voice had them both turning. Drew clung to a counter to hold himself upright. In this light, the bruising creeping down from his forehead to eyes appeared dark and menacing, especially as the rest of him looked as pale and translucent as the hypothetical ghosts this damn town was supposedly filled with. Fiery red hair resembling a bird’s nest was the only thing, besides the purpling bruise and light gray boxer briefs, that wasn’t ghostlike. Drew’s legs trembled slightly, as though they were in danger of collapsing any minute, and Cliff struggled to focus on that, not how much he’d like to hold that lanky half-naked body against his.