by Tinnean
“Thank you.” We shook hands. “How is Cara Mia?”
“She’s good, thanks. She’s resting, so I picked up this little speed demon from summer camp.”
“Isn’t Sunday a little young to be away from home?”
“It’s just for a few hours a day, a few days a week for a month.”
“We made clay animals!” she exclaimed. “Tomorrow we’re going to put the… the glaze on them, Daddy?”
“Yes, that’s the right word, munchkin. And then what’s Ms. Lucy going to do?”
“Cook them!”
Bryan bit his lip and looked away, and I pretended to cover a cough so she wouldn’t see my amusement. “Who will you give it to?” I asked.
“The baby!”
“Do you know something, Sunny Sunday?” I crouched down so that we were at eye level. “You’re going to be a wonderful big sister.”
“I am?” She gave a little bounce. “I am!”
Cisco shook his head, looking happier than I’d ever seen him. “Come on, Sunny. Say goodbye to Uncle Bryan and Uncle Quinn, and we’ll go let Mommy know how our day went.”
She caught his hand, and this time she gave a little skip. “Bye.”
“Bye, munchkin.”
I watched as they went to the little cottage at the back of the property, then turned to see Bryan observing me.
“Uncle Bryan?”
“John Cisco was the last person I would have expected to settle down to raise a family.”
That came from out of the blue. “He seems happy.”
“Yes. I think you’d be too. You’ll make an excellent father, Quinn. Talk to Mark about children before you give up on the idea entirely. From what I understand, the WBIS has a doctor on staff who’s a wizard. I don’t doubt Mark would talk him into coming up with a factor X solution if you asked.”
“Thank you.” Max, the doctor Bryan was talking about, had saved my life when I’d been kidnapped by Prinzip, the antiterrorist organization that was run by a madman. While Max was quite skilled, what Bryan mentioned sounded like something out of a science fiction novel. I wasn’t sure it was likely, not that I would tell him.
Fortunately, Bryan was unaware of the path my thoughts were taking. He squeezed my shoulder. “And if you need any help with the South America problem, just let me know. I still have connections. Now, I’d better go look in on your uncle.”
“I’ll walk back to the house with you.” I’d need to get ready for my dinner engagement with Paul and Valentine.
We strolled across the expanse of lawn together and entered the big house.
III
I ARRIVED AT Falling Water shortly before seven thirty and approached the host’s station.
He smiled at me politely. “Good evening, sir. Party of one?”
“No, I’m meeting some friends here. The reservation is under the name of Spike.”
His eyes lit up. “Spike and his cutie are already here. If you’ll come this way?”
I followed him to a table near the window that looked out on the fountain that gave the restaurant its name. Valentine and Paul were sitting there, having what appeared to be an intense conversation. Paul reached across the table to catch Val’s hand, and he said something only Val could hear.
“Company’s here, Spike,” the host said.
They looked up, and their expressions relaxed. “Thanks, Trev.”
“Enjoy your dinner.” He hurried back to his station.
Paul released Val’s hand, and they smiled at me and rose. “Mr. Mann.”
“Good evening, gentlemen.” I extended a hand and shook with Paul first and then Valentine. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”
“Not at all, Mr. Mann.” Paul gestured toward a seat.
“Please, call me Quinn.”
“That’s what Vince calls you.”
I smiled at Paul. “It is.”
“Got it.” After we sat, Paul continued, “You enjoyed the appetizer of scallops and octopus the last time you were here, so I thought I’d order it again.”
“That sounds good.”
A waiter stood at my elbow. “What would you care to drink?” He looked familiar.
“Sean?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I was here with my uncles this past spring. You were our waiter then.”
“You remember?”
“You were an excellent waiter.”
“Thank you.” He beamed.
I took the wine list and saw a white I hadn’t tried before, although I’d heard good things about it. “Would you care to join me?” I asked Paul. “Shall I order a bottle?”
“No, thanks. Spike’s sticking with iced tea, and I’ll keep him company.” Before them were tall glasses of tea garnished with sprigs of mint.
“All right, in that case, I’ll have a glass of this white to go with the appetizer.” I pointed it out.
“Would you like to order your entrees now?”
“Quinn?”
I helped myself to a scallop and studied the menu. “The rack of lamb looks good. I’ll have that with twice-baked potatoes and grilled asparagus. And I’ll have a glass of the Cabernet Sauvignon with the entree.”
“Very nice choice, sir.” Sean wrote it down. “Spike?”
“I’ll have my usual, Sean,” Val said.
Sean continued writing. “Prime rib medium rare and baked potato loaded.”
“And asparagus,” Paul added.
“Ah, Paul…” Val grumbled.
“Asparagus. You need your greens.”
Val continued to grumble. “My pee is going to…”
Paul took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “But you’ll eat it for me.”
Val’s lower lip thrust out, but there was laughter in his eyes. “You know I will.”
Sean cleared his throat, and Paul smiled at him. “I’ll have the wood-grilled salmon and the bleu cheese wedge salad.”
Sean scribbled it down. “I’ll put in your orders, and I’ll return with your wine, sir.”
I nodded, and after he left, I helped myself to a few pieces of octopus and waited for Paul to tell me why they felt the need to talk to me.
“We appreciate you meeting us here. I thought it might be a good idea to tell you more about…” Paul lowered his voice. “About Brad Cartwright.”
“I’m here. I’m listening. Although I should tell you Mark’s already informed me Cartwright is a sleaze.”
Valentine giggled. “He is.”
“Shall I drop a word in his ear that if he doesn’t leave you alone, I’ll see he doesn’t work in this town again?”
Paul gave a wry smile. “I just don’t like seeing some asshole take advantage of Spike. It was one thing when that was our job, but—”
“But it’s not anymore.”
“No.”
“I can look after myself,” Val insisted.
“That’s why Stapleton had such a hard time kidnapping you.”
“That wasn’t my fault!” Valentine scowled at him.
“He still wound up—”
Sean returned, and Paul fell silent. Sean placed my wine beside my plate and put a basket of warm rolls in the center of the table.
“Is everything okay?”
“It’s perfect, Sean.” Val smiled at the waiter, and Sean bustled off.
“Are we agreed that I’ll be on the set with Valentine?”
“You get yourself kidnapped again, and I’ll have a heart attack,” Paul warned.
“And I don’t want that.” Val caught Paul’s hand and twined their fingers together.
“All right, so that’s settled.”
They grinned at me, and Val winked.
“I have to tell you I was very impressed by your acting in In the Dark of the Night,” I told him.
“You saw it?”
“Of course I did.”
“And you didn’t get scared?”
“Will you be disappointed if I say no?” I speared another piece of octopus and b
it into it, wondering if I should be insulted. I’d seen things that frightened me more than a boogeyman in a mask. However, Valentine didn’t need to know that. “I enjoyed your acting.”
Paul met my gaze. “They wanted him to play it for laughs.”
“Excuse me?”
“He was supposed to be the in-the-closet kid who was drooling so much over the jock that he put his girlfriend”—he put the word in finger quotes—“in jeopardy.”
I tilted my head. “But your character threw himself in front of the girl, saving her.”
“Yes. I didn’t think they’d keep the scene in, but I was so frustrated by how they wanted me to play it that when they were shooting the same scene to test different lighting, I acted the way I thought it should have been.”
“And the rest, as they say, is history.” Paul looked at Val with pride. They did make a sweet couple.
“I was just lucky they didn’t fire me.”
“They’d have been fools to do that. You’re going to be the next Tom Hanks.”
“You have to say that.” Val looked disconcerted. “You love me.”
“I do. From the day I saw you trying to pick up my john.”
Val blushed, smiled, sighed, and his expression clearly stated he thought the sun rose and set on Paul.
I helped myself to another scallop this time and thought of Mark. I did miss him.
I cleared my throat. “Suppose you tell me more about Brad Cartwright.”
Val turned his gaze on me. “For one thing, he’s bisexual, although he tries to pass himself off as straight.”
“But… Ah. I see. It’s not about the sex of his partner, it’s how he can manipulate them.” Mark was right, the man was a sleaze.
“Yep.”
“You don’t seem too concerned.”
“I’m not going off with him. And if he tries to shove his tongue down my throat during the scene at the end when we kiss…” Val grinned. “He’s going to learn why I got the big bucks.”
“Spike’s a fantastic kisser. And if worst comes to worst…” Paul seemed very relaxed about the whole thing now, and I realized why when he continued, “We’ll call Vince and have him come deal with Cartwright.” He grinned at me. “It’s good to have a friend like Vince.”
It was even better to have him as a lover. “Paul, would you mind if I asked you something?”
“Not at all.”
“Mark told me you helped him back in 1993.”
“Yeah. I… I know he’s your boyfriend and all, so forgive me for saying this, but I’d been crushing on him something fierce from the time he moved into the attic apartment.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Thanks. I knew there could never be anything between us, and I felt bad about that.”
“Hey!” Val looked put out.
“Not like that, babe. Vince was always alone. Even in a crowded room, if you follow me?” He reached across the table, and this time he rested his palm on the back of Val’s hand. Val turned it, and they were palm to palm. Paul glanced in my direction. “I wasn’t sure about you, when Theo first mentioned Vince was seeing a spook, but… I think you’re good for him.”
“Thank you.” Mark was good for me as well.
“Will we be going to a wedding anytime soon? Oww!” Val glared at Paul. “You didn’t have to kick me.”
I swallowed a smile. “It’s not legal in this country,” I reminded them. They were such a cute pair.
“Have you ever known that to stop Vince?”
I made a noncommittal sound. What I didn’t say was as soon as it was legal, I intended to drag Mark in front of the first justice of the peace I could locate and marry him.
Sean brought our entrees just then, and the conversation returned to Brad Cartwright, the ultimate sleaze.
~*~
I PARKED THE Maserati in the drive of the big house in the Hollywood Hills later that night to find it illuminated by a few lights. My uncles must already be in bed.
I let myself in, locked the door behind me, and made my way up the stairs to my bedroom. I flipped on the light and removed my cell phone from my suit jacket pocket. That was when I realized I’d missed a call from Mark—I’d had my phone set to etiquette mode. The time stamp on the call was only half an hour earlier, so I decided to return the call.
Mark answered on the first ring. “Strip, Mann.”
“Excuse me?” But I was already working the buttons on my shirt with one hand.
“You heard me. I want you to put down your phone, set it on speaker, and strip.”
I licked my lips and again did as he ordered, shivering with need.
“Now slick up that dildo, get on the bed on your hands and knees, and prepare your ass.”
I knew he could hear me panting as I obeyed him. I groaned as the lubricant warmed inside me and began a maddening itch.
“Mark.”
“Put it in.”
I inserted the dildo.
“Start fucking yourself with it. And don’t touch your cock.”
This time I whined, but I gripped the bedspread with my free hand. I drove the dildo in to the flared base, withdrew it, then repeated the action over and over and over again. Each time its ribbed sides stroked over my prostate, I whimpered and jerked at the exquisite sensations.
“Feel good, babe?”
“Yes!” I was so close, even without touching myself.
“Good.” The sound of his heavy panting came over the cell phone.
“Mark? Are you—”
“Oh yeah. Did you think I’d let you do this alone?”
And dammit if that didn’t drive me over the edge.
~*~
“QUINN? C’MON, MANN, answer me.”
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Mark’s voice sounded urgent.
I yawned, stretched, and flinched a bit as the dildo moved against my still-sensitive prostate. I eased it out of my body, set it on the night table, and scooped up my cell phone.
“Mmm. That should do me for a couple of days,” I murmured. I took the phone off speaker and held it to my ear.
“You’re okay?”
“Never better.”
“It was good, wasn’t it?” He sounded more relaxed.
“Very good. One day you’ll have to tell me how you managed to secret this thing in my suitcase.”
“Yeah.” It was his turn to yawn. “They’re a matching pair, y’know, only mine’s got green rings.”
“Nice.”
“Very. Although I think the next time you’re away, I’ll make sure you have a butt plug packed in your suitcase.”
I bit back a moan, but he still must have heard it because he chuckled, the bastard.
“So tell me, babe. How was your day?”
“Interesting.” I thought about my conversation with Bryan, but now wasn’t the time to talk to Mark about whether or not to consider a family of our own. “And yours?”
“You’re never gonna believe this. That asshole Jenner had the nerve to call me at work.”
“Did he really? Because of that contretemps with Taylor at the airport?”
“Only partly. He said he was ready to let that go.”
“I have to admit that surprises me. It doesn’t sound like him.”
“It isn’t.”
“Ah. I suspect there’s an if there?”
“Yeah. That was just an excuse. They want you back.”
“Why are you sounding so smug?”
“Because they realized how badly they screwed up, and they aren’t going to get you back.”
No, they weren’t. Unless it was for reasons of my own, I never permitted anyone to ride roughshod over me.
I smiled at the protectiveness in his voice. I’d never doubted my family loved me and had my back, but knowing the best spy in the business was there for me left me breathless at times.
“You still awake, Quinn?”
“I am, babe.”
“Okay, good.” Mark
continued talking, and I let the timbre of his warm voice envelop me as he described with relish the hard time he’d given Jenner.
IV
IT HAD BEEN a long day after an even longer week. I’d been invited to accompany the cast of The Food of Love to dinner and had to field a number of scowls sent my way by Brad Cartwright because Val sat beside me.
“I’ll drive you home, Spike,” Cartwright said, and he turned another glare my way. “I’m sure you can find something to occupy yourself.”
“Of course I can. I’m driving Val home.”
“What are you, his boyfriend?”
“No, I have one of those back home.”
“Then what? His bodyguard?”
“You could say that.” I swallowed a grin. Mark was rubbing off on me.
When Cartwright realized I was serious, his jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. Val buried his face on my shoulder, trying to control his laughter.
“Are you ready to leave, Valentine?”
“Yes, Quinton.” He raised his head and smiled at the people with whom he worked. They all seemed to be watching us with interest.
We both rose to our feet.
“’Night, everyone.” Val looped his arm through mine and hugged it to him. “See you Monday morning.”
Cartwright wasn’t happy to see that, and he became even more unhappy when I rested my hand on Val’s hand. I raised an eyebrow and let him face the Ice Man. He turned pale and backed away.
“Good evening.” I included everyone in my farewell, then escorted Val to the restaurant lobby. I handed the chit for valet parking to an attendant.
“The Maserati? Dude! That is one awesome vehicle!” He swaggered out to find the sports car.
“Dude?” I murmured.
“Why not? You’re not old,” Val assured me.
“Thank you for that,” I said dryly. I’d never felt old, but then I’d rarely had a companion Val’s age.
“I really appreciate this, Quinn.”
“A drive home?”
Val shook his head. “Standing between me and Cartwright. I had a client like him once, and…” He shivered.
I slid an arm around his shoulders and gave what I hoped was a comforting squeeze. “Whatever I can do to help.”
“Thank you.”
The attendant pulled the Maserati up under the awning and hopped out, leaving the key in the ignition. While Val got into the car, I gave the attendant a tip.
