by Andrew Grey
“Do you want to sleep in here alone?” Garrett asked Nigel once Jules had gone to bed. It was late, and they had stayed up watching Singin’ in the Rain. They all needed some happy, and nothing said happy like Debbie Reynolds.
Nigel shook his head and pulled his shirt up and off. “I want to feel alive, like I did back home.” He pushed off his pants and stepped out of the pile of clothing, leaving it on the floor and him naked. “If I could have anything, it would be to feel the way I did on the island, just the two of us, without a care or worry.” Nigel closed the distance between them. “Can we do that?”
“Yes.” Garrett stripped just as quickly and took Nigel in his arms. “I remember the first time I held you.” Things had been so much simpler, and it felt like a lot more than just a few weeks ago. “I think I always will.”
“I know I will.” Nigel guided him back until Garrett reached the edge of the bed. He’d go anywhere Nigel wanted, and right now they had the same idea. Nigel wrapped his arms around Garrett’s waist, and Garrett pulled him close. Having Nigel pressed to him, holding tightly, thrusting his hips so Nigel’s cock slid along his belly, was heady in the extreme. Garrett adored the scent of him, the taste and touch of his smooth skin on his hands. He closed his eyes, memorizing every part of Nigel… just in case. He’d been through way too much to take anything for granted.
“I have things for us.” Garrett moaned softly as Nigel shimmied his hips.
“What sort of things?” Nigel asked, and Garrett lost the ability to think. Nigel giggled and pushed him backward, sending them both tumbling onto the bed. It felt good to laugh, to let off the weight that had settled on them, almost without realizing it was there until it was gone. Regardless of what had happened, Hilliard was gone, there were no more threats, and Nigel could live his life in the open, the way he wanted. And to think that he wanted Garrett. What could possibly be better than that?
“Things we need so I can make love to you,” Garrett whispered, and rolled Nigel onto his back. He took those swollen lips in a powerful kiss before getting up and hurrying to the bathroom. He found the bag of things he’d gotten when he bought fresh clothes and returned, setting them on the nightstand. “Do you know…? Are you sure?”
“I know what men do. I saw it.” Color rose in his cheeks, and Nigel pointed to the iPad. “I found some videos, and they showed everything.”
Garrett gaped, speechless. “You’ve had the internet for a little over a day and you already found porn?”
“I wanted to know what two men did together, and this site was really helpful. They were really short, because I didn’t have a credit card, but it was enough.” Nigel laughed nervously and turned eight shades of red all at once.
Garrett prowled toward the bed. “Did you like what you saw?”
Nigel nodded, his gaze locked on Garrett’s. “They were pretty men, but none of them as handsome as you.” The sweet talker. “And they screamed a lot. At first I thought they were hurting… but then I knew it was because they were hot to trot.”
Where that expression came from, Garrett had no idea, and he had to stop the laughter that threatened to bubble up. He didn’t want to spoil the mood, and when Nigel wound his arms around his neck, tugging him downward, Garrett forgot everything else.
Nigel circled his legs around Garrett’s waist, and Garrett stroked his palms over Nigel’s butt. Garrett teased him open as they kissed, swallowing each other’s moans, feeding them back as the heat and passion rose by the second.
Little whimpers filled the air as Garrett stroked Nigel’s hot skin, wanting to go slow, but everything inside him said to make Nigel his and pushed him forward. They might be in a fancy hotel, with soft sheets and a perfect bed, but part of him was back on that beach, in the cave, making love to Nigel for the first time. He just had to have him.
Garrett fumbled in the darkness until he found the bag, got to the small tube of slick, and worked it onto his fingers and then into Nigel, his heat and pressure around him for the first time. He knew magic wasn’t real. Garrett couldn’t snap his fingers and make anything he wanted happen. Except he was wrong—magic was real, and he was holding the source of it, feeling its heat, listening as Nigel moaned and whispered the words that opened his heart. All that existed was Nigel.
“God, I love you,” Garrett said without hesitation.
“I love you too.” Nigel held him tighter as Garrett slid a finger deeper inside him, splaying his hands against his cheeks, caressing and touching, opening, preparing, making Nigel ready for him.
“Nigel… I….” Garrett’s throat dried out as he tumbled into the sea blue of Nigel’s eyes.
“I’m ready,” Nigel whispered.
Garrett nodded, found a condom, slipped it on, and gently, carefully, against every instinct that pressed him forward, pushed into Nigel. “That’s it,” Nigel encouraged, and Garrett lost the ability to talk or think about anything other than the night in the cave, lost in Nigel’s eyes just as he was now, losing himself in him and never wanting to be found.
“Don’t stop,” Nigel begged, and Garrett couldn’t have if he tried.
He moved slowly, sighing with each slippery slide, taking in each gasp, moan, and breath that Nigel took. They were more explanatory, more precious than any words, because they came from Nigel’s core. Each hitch said yes, a groan… more, a moan… still more… and the cries, those he would hear in his sleep, in his dreams for the rest of his life.
“Garrett… I….” Nigel gasped and held still, clutching him as he closed his eyes, pleasure, bliss, and ecstasy written all over his face as he came.
Garrett watched in rapt wonder, holding himself at bay for just a minute longer so he could watch the flush and the surprise of openmouthed pleasure, knowing it was for him. Then, when Nigel opened his eyes, Garrett lost himself in them again, plummeting into his own wave of sweet release, letting Nigel see just how much he undid him.
Chapter 12
“ARE YOU sure you’re ready to do this?” Garrett asked as the three of them stood near the hotel room door three days later. Together they had seen many of the popular sights in the city and gone to the park each afternoon so Jules and Nigel could be outside. They’d explored every path and corner as though on a treasure hunt.
Garrett had gotten in touch with the owner of the sailboat he’d rented and explained some of the situation. Agent Carver had already arranged for the removal of the guns and to have Garrett’s things sent to him. So everything was all fixed on that end at least.
The police had finished with the apartment, and Charlie had helped Nigel get cleaners in there so the place would hold no residue of what had happened, other than memories.
“Yes. I have to.” Nigel stood tall at the door. “I won’t let Hilliard take anything more away from us. That penthouse was our parents’ home, and Jules and I are going to go over there. I don’t want to live in this room anymore.” He pulled open the door, marched down the hall, and called the elevator. Garrett and Jules followed behind.
“I don’t have any memories of the apartment,” Jules said. “It’s like Nigel expects me to.”
“I don’t think so. But maybe when you’re there, you’ll figure out that you do remember something. Maybe even something about your Mom and Dad. It’s possible.”
Jules didn’t seem convinced and loped down the hall. “I really want to go home. Maybe there will be more turtles and I can explore the beach.”
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside.
“I understand.” Garrett turned to Nigel. “What do you think about going back to the island in a few months? It will be colder here, and I bet we’ll all be ready for warmer weather.” He’d gotten jackets and sweatshirts for them all when the first fall cold front had blown through, knocking the warmer weather away, at least temporarily. “You can have some things with the estate set, and you should be able to be away for a period of time.”
Jules practically bounced off the walls of the elevato
r car, and Nigel nodded, looking at him as though he hung the moon.
“How long before you have to go back to Baltimore?” Nigel asked as they reached the bottom and the doors slid open.
“You aren’t staying?” Jules asked, deflating like a balloon.
“I have things I have to tie up there, but I’m not going to leave until both of you are settled with a place to live. I promise. Then I’ll be back.” Garrett took Nigel’s hand and kept it as they walked to the penthouse building, where Charlie called the elevator.
The ride upward was tense, growing more so the longer they were in the elevator.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Garrett reminded them.
The car came to a stop and the doors opened to the small entrance lobby. They stepped out, and Nigel unlocked the apartment door.
It looked much the same but smelled of disinfectant. There were no signs of what had happened. The floors gleamed. Garrett closed the door while the guys stood looking around.
“I remember this,” Nigel said softly. “I used to play right here on the floor with my cars and trucks. Dad hated it, but the floors were so smooth that they could really go.” He took a few steps farther into the space. “But none of this furniture was my parents’. Except that.” He pointed to a corner. “I remember being afraid of the bear.”
Garrett smiled at the large openmouthed bronze bear. He could see it scaring a kid. “So that belonged to your parents’?”
Nigel nodded, pointing again. “That did too, and so did the side table over there. I remember those. But the rest must be Uncle Hilliard’s.”
“Anything you don’t want can be removed. And you can go shopping or hire a decorator for anything else you want.”
Nigel shrugged. “I don’t really care. Just get his stuff out of here.” The large, supple leather sofas looked comfortable enough, and the other furniture was modern and relatively bland. Garrett was pretty sure it was expensive, but it lacked any sort of style.
Jules wandered off down the hall, and Garrett peeked into the office. The desk drawers were closed, but when Garrett looked inside, he found them largely empty. The richly paneled room, with book-matched wood insets, was stunning. “Do you remember this room?” Garrett asked, and Nigel stepped in and gasped softly.
“Dad used to sit behind that desk, and he’d work at night. I used to hide under there, and sometimes Dad would put me on his lap and read me stories.” He turned around, the light in his eyes fading a little. “There were always books for me on those shelves. Dad used to read to me all the time. It was one of the things we did together.”
Jules came in.
“Do you remember being in here? You sat on Mom’s lap and I sat on Dad’s, and he read us stories sometimes.”
“Peter Rabbit,” Jules said, and Nigel nodded.
“That was your favorite. You used to put your hand over your face whenever Mr. McGregor entered the story.” They shared a smile. “See, you do remember.”
“I guess.” Jules’s lips cocked upward.
“Let’s see the rest,” Nigel said, and they continued through the apartment. The first two bedrooms were rather neutral, probably for guests. The master had been thoroughly rummaged through by the investigators. “What do we do with all this?”
“We can give it all to charity. I’ll call someone, and they can pick it up.” Garrett was determined to wipe as much of Hilliard out of the place as possible. “Then you can shop for the kind of bed you want.”
“That we want,” Nigel corrected, threading his arm through Garrett’s. “Pick any room you want, Jules.”
A knock on the front door startled them. Garrett shared a glance with Nigel before going to see who it was.
“Agent Carver,” Garrett said brightly as he let him inside. “How’s the arm?”
“Better. Thanks.” Carver closed the door. “I was stopping by to check on the cleanup job, and Charlie told me you were here already.”
Nigel joined them, once again threading his arm with Garrett’s.
“We’re trying to figure out what to do with Hilliard’s things,” Garrett explained.
“Somehow I don’t really think it’s going to matter. He never married and had no children, and he isn’t going to be going anywhere for a very long time. We found plenty of evidence in his files, and the list of charges is growing by the hour. I suggest you have them packed up, put them in storage, and send him the information and a bill for the expenses. After that, it’s up to him.”
Nigel nodded. “I think we can do that.”
Carver made a call and set it up. He smiled and hung up. “Someone will be here tomorrow to take care of it. Just tell them what you want to go, and it will be taken care of. I’ll make sure Hilliard gets the information.” He seemed more than happy. “My advice is to clear out everything that was his and make this place your own. This is a one-of-a-kind place here in New York.”
“In more ways than one,” Garrett added. “Thank you for all your help.”
“What are your plans going forward? Have you thought about it?” Carver looked square at Garrett. “Because we could use a good man like you at the bureau.”
Garrett’s stomach tightened. Once, an offer like that would have been his dream, but now…. “Thank you, but I think I’m going to try to find something closer to home.” He turned to Nigel. “Our home.” That was all that mattered. Garrett drew Nigel a little nearer.
Carver smiled and nodded knowingly. “I don’t blame you at all.” He looked around the area. “It looks like they did a good job.”
“They did,” Nigel said. “Thank you for everything you did for us.”
Carver smiled. “No. Thank you. Your courage to stand up to him and let us inside made all the difference in the world. We’ve known his business dealings haven’t been squeaky clean for some time, but to have the proof…. Your uncle was the kind of man who gives everyone in his profession a bad name.” He handed Garrett and Nigel each a business card. “Don’t hesitate to call if you run into anything else.”
Jules raced in and skidded to a stop as he approached. “I was going to go to the bathroom and I opened the door I thought was it, but it’s another room.” He grabbed Nigel’s arm and tugged him back.
“Thank you for everything.” Garrett shook the agent’s hand.
“No problem. I have to go.” Carver smiled and left the apartment.
Garrett closed the door behind him before following the dual sneezes down the hall.
The room was covered in dust, which had been disturbed only recently, probably by the agents. Garrett opened two of the windows for some fresh air, and the wind rushed through, kicking up more dust. He closed the door and let the wind do its job, carrying much of the dust from the small room, probably a nursery when the apartment was built. It didn’t take long for the air to clear.
“What is this?” Jules asked.
Nigel was already digging through boxes. Six had been opened and pushed to the side. With the next, he pulled out some old framed pictures. He held them up, practically jumping up and down, before showing them to Jules. “This is all of us. Mom, Dad, me, and you as a baby.” He handed it to Jules and pulled out three more. The rest of the box was paper and packing. Nigel turned into a whirlwind, going through each of the boxes, as well as the closet. Everything else seemed to belong to Hilliard, but in that one box, Nigel and Jules had struck gold.
Garrett pulled Nigel into a hug, and Nigel clung to him, burying his face in Garrett’s shirt, crying, grieving. The sobs were wrenching, and Garrett could only imagine the loss upon loss that was coming out all at once. “It’s okay. You let it all out.” He turned to Jules, who stood all alone, trying to hold himself together. Garrett opened an arm, and Jules joined Nigel, the two of them hugging each other and Garrett. In a way, he was very relieved. It was time they both let out everything they’d been holding inside.
Jules was the first to back away, rubbing his eyes and then leaving the room.
“I found what’s left of my parents,” Nigel said after a few minutes more. “It isn’t much, but it’s something.” He turned, looking down at the framed pictures: three smiling faces glowing out of the frame, Jules asleep in his mother’s arms. “I read somewhere that we get two families. The one we’re born with, and the one we make for ourselves.”
Garrett nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. “That’s true,” he finally managed to say.
“I don’t have the family I was born with. Other than Jules, they’re gone.” Nigel pulled in a deep breath. “Will you be part of the family we make for ourselves?” Nigel nearly broke down again as he said the words.
Garrett pulled him into another hug. “I think I already am.”
Epilogue
NIGEL STOOD on the deck of the speed boat, practically jumping out of his skin as the island, his and Jules’s island, came into view. They had hired a boat and crew from Martinique to bring them over. Aerial pictures of the island showed that the boat Fairfield had used to come and go was still there, so they should have transportation off the island again once they decided to leave.
“I’m ready to be home,” Jules said. His energy had built up once the snow began to fly. The first day he had been so excited to check it out, but after he’d felt how cold it was, the winter wind in New York had both him and Nigel running indoors and turning up the heat to near tropical. Granted, Garrett loved getting to snuggle next to Nigel at night, keeping him warm and toasty.
“I know. Both of you were.” All Garrett had had to see was the two of them staring out of the windows, frowns on their faces as they watched the snow fall from the penthouse, wrapping their arms around themselves as though the cold was going to reach out and take them at any moment.
