Tall, Dark, and Deported

by Bru Baker

  Mateus’s hand slid down Crawford’s back, his palm blazing a trail of heat Crawford could feel through his thin shirt. Crawford wanted to arch back into the touch, but the sound of a throat clearing jarred him out of the moment.

  Mateus flinched and pulled away at the same time that Crawford scooted his chair back. The officer had finished her phone call and was staring at them with an amused and indulgent smirk.

  It was possible that Crawford was still a bit giddy from the kiss, because he turned and buried his face against Mateus’s shoulder and started to laugh. Mateus joined in a second later, the two of them folded over each other, supporting each other as they giggled like kids.

  “I’m sorry,” Crawford managed when he’d gotten himself together. Mateus’s arm was still twined around his torso, holding him close, and Crawford’s heart caught in his throat at how easy and domestic it felt.

  Officer Charon cleared her throat again. “I think that will suffice to explain your relationship,” she said with a small grin. “Your passport was flagged by Homeland Security for further interviews when you reentered the country, Mr. Fontes. That’s why we pulled you and Mr. Hargrave aside.”

  Well, that was ominous.

  “We have a standard interview that newly married couples go through when visas are involved. Usually we can do that at the checkpoint, but since your file was flagged, you’ll have to work with an immigration caseworker. She’ll do the initial interview and also monitor you for the first year of your marriage.”

  That didn’t sound too bad. Invasive, but not impossible. Crawford’s schedule could be fairly flexible with enough notice, and God knew he had enough time off banked. As long as they had enough warning he could come to Seattle to meet with a caseworker whenever it was necessary.

  “And of course, the home visit.”

  He shot a panicked look at Mateus. They had plenty of time before that, didn’t they? “Home visit?” he repeated dumbly.

  “It’s a technicality. You’d be amazed at how many people think they can game the system and marry under false pretenses,” she said, shaking her head. “It won’t be hard for the two of you, I’m sure. We’ll get it scheduled right away.”

  Obviously their kiss had been pretty convincing. Hell, Crawford had even convinced himself, so he knew it had been good.

  The immigration lawyer they’d met with in Vancouver had made it all sound like a walk in the park. He’d started filing the mountain of paperwork Mateus would need, which Crawford was immensely grateful for. It was thanks to that quick thinking that they were even able to get Mateus across the border now. It could take weeks to get it approved, but no one along the way had expected that to be a problem.

  Officer Charon slid a business card across the desk. “This will be your caseworker. You’ll need to meet with her tomorrow. But don’t worry. Like I said, it’s to root out the people who don’t really live together.”

  Crawford flipped the card over and read the name—Officer Kathleen Suarez. He couldn’t get a feel from the name. Would she be nice like Officer Charon? Or would she be some matronly hardass who asked him what Mateus’s favorite brand of toothpaste was?

  Actually, he did know that. They’d had a ten-minute debate over breakfast last week about Crest versus Colgate. But still, how were they going to pass a home inspection when they didn’t even live in the same state?

  He felt Mateus’s arm tighten around him. “Do we need to call to set up an appointment? We’re headed to Beverly, and that’s a bit of a drive from here.”

  “Her office opens at nine, and she sets aside the first part of the day to meet with couples who arrived after closing the day before. She’ll be able to see you without an appointment, but I’d recommend getting there right as the office opens. If you’re staying in Beverly, you might want to get a room here in Seattle for the night. Anyway, I apologize for the inconvenience. I’m sure Officer Suarez will do a great job with your case,” she said brightly.

  Crawford certainly hoped not.

  Chapter Thirteen

  MATEUS flopped down on the queen-size bed, wrinkling his nose when he bounced instead of sinking into it. This was nothing like the feather-soft beds at Chatham-Thompson Lion’s Gate, though the rock-hard mattress and slick nylon coverlets were hardly a surprise for a place that rented for fifty-nine dollars a night.

  Crawford had tried to book them into a nicer hotel down the street, but Mateus’s pride wouldn’t allow it. He’d been mooching off Crawford for too long—it was Mateus’s turn to foot some of the bill for this, especially since they were stuck here overnight because of him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford down comforters and 500-thread-count sheets. But the room did come with a free continental breakfast in the morning, which was kind of exciting.

  He closed his eyes and listened to Crawford fumbling with the tiny coffeemaker on the bathroom sink. It was late, but he didn’t say anything. He’d learned not to come between Crawford and caffeine, no matter what time of day Crawford was having it.

  Something clattered into the sink with an echoing thud and Crawford cursed softly. Mateus peeked open one eye in time to see him angrily shoving the piece back into the coffeemaker.

  “I saw a Starbucks a mile or so back. I think I’m going to give up on this and make a coffee run. You want a decaf cinnamon latte?”

  So maybe Mateus hadn’t been the only one taking notes on beverage preferences. He tried hard to ignore the fluttery feeling he got knowing Crawford had been paying attention that night they’d stopped at Sacred Grounds after dinner so Crawford could scope it out. Mateus knew how focused he was on his work, but not only had Crawford noticed how much Mateus had liked the cinnamon latte, he’d remembered Mateus telling him he liked sweeter drinks at night.

  “If you’re going out anyway. But don’t make a special trip for me.”

  Crawford snorted. “I’ve got about four hours of paperwork to get through tonight. Trust me, I’m going anyway. Possibly more than once.”

  Mateus winced internally. Crawford had been so amazing through all of this, never once getting angry about how much this marriage had inconvenienced him. Even now, staying in a second-rate motel with a nonfunctional coffeemaker, he didn’t snap or try to make Mateus feel bad. Instead, he offered to pick up Mateus’s new favorite evening drink while he went out to get coffee to fuel a late-night work session that was necessary because he’d spent all day doing things for Mateus.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Mateus didn’t make a move to get up from the bed since he was reasonably sure the answer was going to be no. He and Crawford had been together literally all day, which meant Crawford probably needed a little alone time to recharge. He always got a bit tense and grumpy when he didn’t have any time to himself.

  He’d closed his eyes again, but he heard the rasp of Crawford swiping his keys off the bureau. “No, I’m good. I may take my laptop and take advantage of the Wi-Fi to finish up a report that needs to be sent in. The connection here is pretty crappy. But I’ll be back in an hour or so with your coffee, okay?”

  Mateus fought back a smile. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Crawford said. A moment later the door snicked shut behind him.

  Mateus sat up and rubbed his eyes. He’d gotten better about not effusively thanking Crawford for helping him, but he knew even his routine and polite thank-yous made Crawford uncomfortable. He’d have to figure out a way to thank him without outright saying it.

  Though how much longer would it be a problem? They’d see the immigration officer in the morning, and then Crawford would drop him off at the orchard. From what he’d read online, there might be another interview or two in the next year—once they got past the initial assessment and the ominous-sounding home visit—but it wouldn’t be anything too invasive. And it probably wouldn’t even be necessary, since by then Duarte would be able to hire Mateus and help him get a work visa.

  The thought of not seeing Crawford every day made Mateus�
�s stomach hurt. He’d let himself fall for Crawford even though he’d known it was a mistake. Crawford was clear about not wanting this to progress to an actual physical relationship, and Mateus accepted that. He had to. The ball was in Crawford’s court, so to speak, and Crawford was content to let it sit. Mateus wasn’t going to go against Crawford’s wishes and try to pursue him. He owed Crawford a hell of a lot, and since Crawford seemed determined not to let Mateus repay him, the least he could do was respect the man’s boundaries.

  And oh, what boundaries he had. Mateus huffed out a laugh and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. Life would be a lot easier right now if he could get past his obsession with Crawford’s ass, but it was too magnificent to ignore. Then again, without Crawford’s magnificent ass, Mateus’s ass would be back in Portugal, or possibly in jail, right now. A little sexual frustration was a small price to pay for staying in the country.

  If this had been a romantic comedy like the ones Bree had gotten him addicted to on Netflix, the room would ring with silence, and Mateus would sit and pine. But the walls were too thin for that, and instead his pity party was set to the soundtrack of a couple having a loud conversation about dinner next door. He wanted to try the diner they’d passed on the drive in, and she wanted to go to Applebee’s. Mateus silently cheered the man on as he ranted about bland, overpriced chain restaurants.

  Not that the diner was any better. He and Crawford had stopped there for dinner, and Mateus couldn’t even remember what he’d ordered. But he agreed with the man on principle.

  If he were back at the orchard, he’d be outside. Walking the fence line to make sure it was intact, checking on the trees he and Duarte had staked before he left, tinkering with an engine in the barn. Mateus hated being cooped up indoors. It hadn’t been so bad in Vancouver, since he’d had his days free to roam around the city. It wasn’t as nice as being out in nature, but it was better than being stuck inside.

  There wasn’t anywhere to escape to here since the motel was nestled into an office park. It was dark enough to make walking through dimly lit parking lots an unattractive option, even if he had wanted to explore the suburban concrete jungle.

  A door slammed down the hall, and the arguing couple faded out of his hearing. The room still wasn’t quiet, between a ticking clock on the far wall and the rattle of the ventilation system. If he strained he could hear cars on the highway that bordered the edge of the office park.

  It wasn’t a great setup for peaceful introspection, which was good because Mateus didn’t think he’d like what he found if he did any serious soul-searching right now: a lot of pining after Crawford, and a fair amount of self-pity over the situation they were in. He didn’t have much of a right to that, since it was entirely his own fault.

  He should call Duarte and let him know he’d be coming home tomorrow, but at this point he wasn’t sure if he’d be coming with Crawford or alone, so he was going to take the cowardly route and put the call off until tomorrow.

  Would he be bringing Crawford home to the orchard? They hadn’t talked about the disastrous revelations in the interrogation room. He felt stupid for not realizing there would be a home visit, but how could he have known? Duarte had never said anything about that after he’d married Bree. Crawford probably needed to get back to Los Angeles for work. And he definitely needed to be there soon or he’d miss seeing his nephew and sister-in-law off, and Mateus didn’t want that on his conscience. Crawford had told him a lot about Brandon, and it was obvious he and Adam were an important part of Crawford’s life. Mateus could handle a week or two in California if it meant Crawford got to resume his life.

  On the other hand, he’d been gone long enough from the orchard that work was starting to pile up. The last time he’d talked to Bree, she’d sounded stressed, and he hated that. Maybe Duarte could take on a hired hand for a month or so.

  Mateus groaned and buried his head under the pillow. Duarte couldn’t afford to pay him; he definitely couldn’t afford someone who would actually want to work for a real wage. He needed to get back to the orchard to pick up some of the slack or they’d be writing off another growing season.

  He hated to ask Crawford for another favor, but it looked like that was going to have to happen. Though there was no reason to put the cart before the horse. Maybe Officer Suarez wouldn’t need to do a home visit for a month or two. That would give him some time to get caught up at the orchard and then head down to Los Angeles for a few days.

  MATEUS didn’t remember drifting off, but the next thing he knew Crawford was shaking him awake. He blinked away the fuzziness in his vision, his mouth watering when he smelled rather than saw the coffee Crawford was holding out to him.

  “You looked exhausted, but I didn’t want you to fall asleep in your clothes and wake up a sweaty mess in the middle of the night. Plus you had the pillow over your face, and this bed is hard as a rock. You’d probably kill your neck sleeping like that.”

  Mateus sat up and leaned against the headboard before taking the coffee. It was perfect. No whipped cream, just like he liked it. It was still hot, too, so Crawford must have waited to order it until he’d been ready to leave Starbucks. The thoughtfulness of the gesture made Mateus’s toes curl with homey satisfaction.

  He stretched, his attention drawn to the way Crawford tracked his movements. Crawford’s gaze lingered on the strip of skin that was exposed when Mateus’s shirt rode up. He didn’t tug it back down like he usually would. He liked having Crawford’s attention on him, and while he wasn’t going to force the issue and make things uncomfortable for Crawford, he also wasn’t above playing a little dirty.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” he said, taking another slow sip. He didn’t think he was imagining the way Crawford’s breath quickened.

  “Anytime.” Crawford blinked and then pulled out his phone, cursing softly. “Shit. Time. It’s time for me to Skype with Brandon, and he’s already called twice. Do you mind? I can go out to the hallway if it would bother you.”

  Mateus waved off his concern. “It’s fine. I can put on headphones if you want some privacy.”

  Crawford shook his head. “Actually, he’ll probably want to see you. Do you mind? He was bummed he didn’t get to meet you when we talked last week.”

  Mateus had been out meeting up with the friends he’d made on the walking tour. He’d been a little bummed to have missed it himself.

  “If you’re okay with me meeting him, I’d love to. He sounds like a great kid.”

  Crawford had already opened Skype on his phone and started dialing Brandon, and he burst out laughing as it started to ring. “Oh please, say that to him. He hates being called a kid. He thinks he’s a man—it’s hilarious.”

  Mateus scooted over to make room for Crawford, his thigh and arm tingling where they brushed up against Crawford’s as Crawford got settled in against the headboard.

  Crawford’s screen filled with Brandon’s image when he picked up. He was grinning ear to ear as he greeted his uncle, and Crawford was lit up just as much.

  “Hey, miscreant. How have the last few days of school been going?”

  Brandon rolled his eyes. “Mom’s making me stay in until the day before we leave. Can you believe it?”

  Crawford laughed. “Hey, it’s extra time with your friends. And it’s not like you’re the one packing up the house, right?”

  Brandon gave an indignant squeak. “I packed a little.” He panned the camera around his room. There were a few suitcases, and one of them had a fluffy white tail hanging out of it.

  “Are you trying to steal my cat?”

  “Bub, get out!” A shoe came sailing from the direction of the camera and hit the box. The cat came scrambling out with a hiss and streaked out the bedroom door.

  “That was Beelzebub,” Crawford explained. “He’s always liked Brandon more than me, though I have no idea why. I’ve never thrown a shoe at him.”

  Brandon turned the camera back on himself. “Slander,” he said. “Besides,
you’ve thrown more than just shoes at him.”

  Crawford tilted the camera and leaned in closer so both he and Mateus were in view. “Bran, this is Mateus. Mateus, this is my nephew Brandon.”

  “Oh, hey man, nice to meet you! Are you coming to LA with Uncle Crawford? Dad said you two got married in Vancouver. That’s kind of wild, I’m not gonna lie.”

  Mateus liked him already. “It’s nice to meet you too. And yes, your uncle and I did get married. But I don’t think I’m coming to LA anytime soon. My brother owns an orchard here in Washington, and there’s a lot to do with the trees this time of year.”

  “That’s so cool. I totally want to visit when I’m home next summer. So,” he bit his lip, and the gesture made him look eerily similar to Crawford, “did Dad tell you I’m spending next summer with you, Uncle Crawford?”

  Adam hadn’t, but Crawford didn’t mind. He’d love to have Brandon for the summer. “No, but I’m sure we can work it out.”

  “Maybe I can get a summer job at the orchard. Will you be moving to Washington? I mean, since we’re not going to be in LA anymore, it’s not like you have to stay here, right?”

  Crawford coughed and rubbed his neck. “Ah, we haven’t really discussed it yet. It was all kind of sudden.”

  Brandon let out a guffaw. “Kind of sudden? Yeah, Uncle Crawford, you marrying someone you just met was kind of sudden. Jeez. And you wonder why I didn’t ask you for dating advice about the dance.” His cheeks dimpled when he smiled. “No offense, Mateus.”

  “None taken. It was pretty fast. Your uncle’s an awesome guy, though. I’m lucky to have him.” It was the absolute truth. Crawford knocked his knee into Mateus’s, and Mateus grinned. “He could learn to take a compliment, though. That’s one of his shortfalls.”