The Deepest Blue
Roadmap to Your Heart, Book #2
Christina Lee
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
1. Dean
2. Callum
3. Dean
4. Callum
5. Callum
6. Dean
7. Dean
8. Callum
9. Dean
10. Dean
11. Dean
12. Callum
13. Dean
14. Callum
15. Dean
16. Callum
17. Callum
18. Dean
19. Dean
20. Dean
21. Callum
22. Dean
23. Dean
24. Callum
25. Dean
26. Callum
27. Dean
28. Dean
29. Callum
30. Callum
31. Dean
32. Dean
33. Callum
34. Callum
35. Callum
36. Dean
37. Dean
Author’s Note
Other Titles by Christina Lee
About the Author
Where to Find Me
Acknowledgments
Excerpt from THE DARKEST FLAME
Copyright © 2015 by Christina Lee , all rights reserved
Cover design by Kanaxa
Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission.
THE DEEPEST BLUE is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
* * *
Lee exchanges skyline for swampland in the next book of her male/male romance series, Roadmap to Your Heart.
For A.
1
Dean
I lugged my bike through the door and propped it against the wall. Sliding my messenger bag over my sore shoulder, I sank down on the couch, attempting to take a load off.
Spring semester had finally kicked my ass. I was working tons of hours at one of the labs in the biology department in addition to coping with my regular coursework for my master’s program. But I only needed one more intensive summer class to graduate early.
I rummaged around in my bag for my laptop, but when I found it I didn’t bother to turn it on. I was too beat to work on any more homework tonight.
A couple minutes later, my roommate, Cassie, hustled through the door. She was juggling an armload of textbooks and I sprang up to help.
“He keep you after class again?” I smirked as I placed her books on the table that we used as much for storage as for eating. Though lately, between both our schedules, there wasn’t even enough time for us to share a meal.
“Nope.” She strode to the refrigerator to retrieve a cold drink. “I asked if he needed help.”
Cassie was a professor’s assistant and refused to admit her crush on the handsome and neurotic Dr. Rebol. She’d graduate early as well, but not until winter break.
I braced my hands on her shoulders to give her a quick massage. She rolled her neck as my fingers worked her tense muscles. “The kind of help that involves you being down on your knees?”
She laughed, elbowing me lightly in the ribs. “That’s your fantasy, not mine.”
“Probably right.” I sighed and settled back on the couch.
Maybe I needed to get laid. It’d been a few weeks. But I didn’t have the energy to change out of my khakis and button-down to head to the club tonight.
“Let’s open a bottle of white.” Cassie set her water container on the table and headed to her room to change.
This had become our routine on the nights we were both home. Otherwise, we’d end up on opposite ends of our two-bed and two-bath apartment. We’d been living in this refurbished building in Cameron Village for more than a year, while we finished up at NC State. She wanted to teach business to undergrads and I was eager to be more than a research assistant.
On some base level, I also hoped to earn my father’s approval. Maybe then he’d actually give a damn. He would’ve preferred for me to follow in his footsteps. I could’ve had a marketing job waiting for me upon graduation. Though he never admitted it openly, he questioned whether I could make it in a field that relied heavily on grants and donations, all in the name of science and improving the earth.
“That’s better.” Cassie had thrown on her favorite pastel pajamas with bold red hearts, the only time she showcased her love of bright and puffy designs. Having grown up with three brothers on a game preserve in Florida, she was definitely a tough cookie, but I liked when her softer side showed.
I handed her a glass of chardonnay and we got comfortable on the cushions. We’d become good friends these past few months, having met last year through a roommate posting board in student services. Both transplants from our hometowns, our families were conservative in different ways.
Her brothers were hunky country types who rode around on ATVs—I’d seen photos and some of the images still got my pulse pumping. My family was just plain stuffy in comparison with their dinner parties and charity events. Except for my half-brother Felix, who I connected with when I’d gotten my undergraduate degree.
We shared the same mother but that was about all we had in common. He was part of the Disciples of the Road motorcycle club and I’d admit to being nervous upon meeting him for the first time. But he was only rough around the edges, with a soft center, and we continued to remain in regular contact.
“I have a favor to ask,” Cassie said, biting her lip.
When she got that look in her eye it meant something important. “Lay it on me.”
She heaved one of the couch’s throw pillows onto her lap. “We’ve got summer break coming up.”
“Right.” I took a hearty sip of my wine. I had a feeling I was going to need it.
“Have you decided if you’re going home in June?” Her eyes darted to the wall calendar we kept in the kitchen to keep track of our overlapping schedules.
“My parents won’t be around. They’re taking some cruise,” I said. “Besides, I’ve got to put in lab hours and prep for my final class in July.”
“My cousin’s getting married at Shady Pines,” she said, letting more of her southern twang slip through.
Cassie had grown up in the small town of Roscoe. Shady Pines was the name of her family’s game preserve. Guess the property was large enough to host a family wedding.
“Is this some big shindig with moonshine and kissing cousins?” I was more than curious about her upbringing, having only heard random stories here and there.
“Very funny,” she said, her lip twisting into a reluctant grin. “This might be the way to squash those crazy ideas in your head once and for all.”
“What do you mean?” She’d been trying to convince me of the preserve’s charm and apparently pictures didn’t do it justice.
“I wondered if you’d be my date.” Her gaze was deadly serious.
“Date?” I nearly choked on my wine. “What’s the catch?”
“If I bring somebody they’ll lay off how right Jerry and I are for each other,” she said, using air quotes. “My father has been persistent—even Grammy can’t rein him in.”
“Jerry?” I scrunched up my nose. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this guy?”
She threw her ar
m dramatically across her forehead. “Because I rarely think about him unless I need to visit my family.”
My eyebrow quirked. “They’re trying to set you two up?”
“Been trying for years,” she said, her hands turning into fists. “His family’s property aligns with ours and our businesses intersect at times. They have some insane notion that if we finally got back together, we could expand.”
“Holy shit, it’s like that reality show—Swamp something or another—but Florida style,” I said. “So I take it you’re not very fond of Jerry?”
“Can barely stand him anymore,” she said. “We tried dating once and it was decent for awhile. He’s handsome but also has traditional ideals about men and women. Believe me, I have enough alpha males in my own family.”
The thought of all of that testosterone might fuel my imagination for several months. But it also explained why Cassie dated plenty of brainy geeks in this campus town, the type of guy who was in direct contrast to the men she’d grown up with.
And showing up with me? It was as if she was intentionally trying to prove a point.
“You do realize I’m gay, right?” I asked and she chuckled. “Your family doesn’t know your roommate likes boys?”
“No, I never mentioned that.” She cringed. “Actually I never even mentioned that you were a guy at all.”
My mouth fell open. “Are you for real right now?”
Thinking back, I couldn’t remember a time I’d even heard her recite my name in the brief phone calls with her father or grandmother.
“This is a completely different way of life,” she said, motioning to our apartment and probably the city of Raleigh in general. “My move to a different state was enough of a shocker for them.”
I sighed and reached for my reading glasses on the table. I only needed them for the smaller print on my phone, which was pretty much always. I noticed a new text from my friend about some hot guy he met at our favorite gay club in the triangle area.
“Let me guess,” Cassie said. “Tate?”
“Begging me to come up to The Nickel,” I said, typing back that I was in for the night. “I can’t imagine what your family would think of our flamboyant friend.”
“My dad might have a panic attack. He’s always stressed as it is.” She shook her head grimly and balanced her slippers on the edge of the coffee table.
“Especially if Tate wore one of his screen-print designs. The pink one with the rhinestone tiara,” I said, suddenly thankful that Tate lived in this fairly diverse town, amongst friends who accepted him.
“So you can pretend, right?” Cassie asked, steering me back to her original request.
“To like you?” I asked. “I already adore you…but not in that way.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just hold my hand and kiss my cheek every now and again.”
“Suppose I can do that.” I imagined all those times as a kid, wishing I could be normal. Acting like it for a long while. And now I was being asked to fake it again. Piece of cake.
“The townsfolk will be swooning over you,” Cassie said, reaching over and running her fingers through my coarse black hair. She always said she had thick hair envy, even though her finer auburn locks were gorgeous. “Even I can admit you’ve got amazing sex appeal.”
I scrunched up my face. “Not sure I get it.”
“Fresh meat,” she said and I wanted to point out that there was plenty of hunky flesh in her brothers. And on the preserve. I nearly felt faint. What the hell was I thinking agreeing to spend time with people who hunted animals?
“Plus, you can see the pretty countryside,” she said, still attempting to convince me of her inane idea. “We’ll show you around.”
“You mean there are other things to do besides shooting wild boars?” I failed to mention how petrified I was of any kind of swine after one nipped me on a family trip to a farm. Even having it served at the dinner table didn’t give me the satisfaction, only made me want to puke.
Cassie grinned. “I hope your misconceptions are blown through the roof, my friend.”
“Will there be any vegetarian options?” I asked, thinking about my mostly raw-food diet. The thought of any kind of wild meat left me practically dry heaving. “You know me and my high-maintenance eating habits.”
“We have a large garden and Grammy’s a great cook,” she said. “By the end of the week, you’ll never want store-bought produce again.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say there was a hint of nostalgia in those eyes,” I said, smirking. “I think Backwoods Betty is glad to be going home.”
“I guess I can hate on my family all I want until someone from the outside tries to mess with them,” she said, and I thought of how my younger brother and I would fight tooth and nail as kids. “Besides, I miss Billie. Callum, too.”
How could anybody forget Cassie’s hot ginger brother from those photos?
“So you’ll do it?” she asked, pouting for effect.
I stood up and stretched before heading to the window to check on my vast assortment of herbs and potted plants. I pulled off a couple of dead brown leaves, as I thought her idea through.
I supposed I could beg Tate to keep my indoor garden watered while I was gone.
“Not sure I can handle a whole week, Cassie.”
“How about we drive your car down for the trip?” she said, looking earnest. “Then you’re free to ride back straight after the wedding. I plan on staying longer. Deal?”
It would be nice to get away from the city. I happened to enjoy wide-open spaces, along with some peace and quiet. Though I wasn’t sure how quiet it would be on a game preserve.
“Does this mean I can ask you to one of my family’s boring events in the future?”
My parents chose to ignore the topic of my being gay whenever it came up. Having Cassie around for some comic relief would be like a breath of fresh air.
“Of course,” she said around a yawn.
A devious grin graced my lips. “When do we leave?”
2
Callum
I adjusted my grip on the pole. “I’ve got this one, Grammy.”
“I trust you do, Callum,” she said, yanking the ball cap over her eyes to blot out the blazing sun. “You always make me proud.”
I’d give anything to be wearing my beat-up sneakers right about then, except you didn’t mess with rattlers. Rubber boots it was. But they didn’t scare me. Been doing this practically my whole life and only been bit once, by a Black Racer—a rattler’s worst enemy.
My finger traced over the scar on my thumb as I dangled the noose toward the rattlesnake hole, waiting on him to surface. The dead mouse lay on its side, a decent last meal.
Hunters needed to keep a brave front, even if their knees were quaking. That’s what Grammy always said when we were kids and she was one of the gutsiest people I’d ever known. She could probably still take down a wild boar with one perfectly timed shot. But her knowledge of gators impressed me most of all. She said the key was to respect their raw power.
One neighbor had his arm taken off at the elbow because of a ridiculous bet during the height of alligator season. You couldn’t be reckless in this business, not if you wanted to succeed. The money we earned from avid and responsible hunting kept our preserve thriving.
A blur of white—probably one of the folks visiting today—flashed in my side view, making me lose focus for one nanosecond. But that was all it took, because now I was eye to eye with the snake, and he was a beauty. Brown markings trailed down his center while his striped tail rattled off the signs of trouble.
“Isn’t there some law about killing snakes in this state?” I heard our company say. Even out of the corner of my eye I could see that the guy was one of them pretty city boys. He was walking beside my sister, Cassie, who was busy filling him in on rattler containment on personal property. He must’ve been the guest she’d mentioned bringing.
Did he need to be that handsome? Too bad he h
ad to go and open his mouth.
“We can always walk away,” I said. I didn’t dare take my eye off the rattlesnake for a second time. “But that leaves you out here with no protection.”
I heard him gulp at the same time Grammy snickered. “Sounds like our Cassie might’ve brought home some tree hugger.”
Grammy gripped the heavy rock in her fingers, ready to bash the rattler’s skull at a moment’s notice.
“They say when a rattler strikes, your blood turns to fire. Like the venom is boiling away in your veins,” I said and I could hear whatshisname’s breathing change. “You’ve got about a ninety-minute window of time before the poison spreads.”
“And then what happens?” he asked, and I could just imagine his pulse throbbing in his neck. I heard his one foot scrape across the other as if rubbing some imaginary dirt from his spotless shoes. Either that or it was some nervous tick.
I shrugged. “Then you’re dead.”
“Knock it off,” Cassie said and I could hear the tightness in her voice. It pained me that we hadn’t been in touch for a long while and I certainly didn’t want to piss her off even further.
The snake retreated toward its hiding spot and disappeared without a second glance at the mouse. Damn.
Now I looked our new guest square in the face while my irritation bubbled over. Grammy had banked on making a fresh batch today. Lately I left the hunting to my brother, Braden, but he had a full plate, so I agreed to be a stand-in. “You Cassie’s date for the wedding?”
“That’s right. I, uh, attend the same college,” he said and I couldn’t help my gaze from snagging on the deepest set of blue eyes. Not quite as dark as that tangle of hair that swept in a high arc away from his forehead. Wearing a pair of fancy designer jeans that showed off his trim form, he was smaller than me, but most guys were. And now I felt shitty for checking out my sister’s guest. “The name’s Dean Abbott.”
“I’m Cassie’s brother, Callum. This is our grandmother, Sibly Montgomery,” I said and he visibly swallowed, probably because of my tone of voice. “I’d say I was pleased to meet you, if you didn’t make our rattler skedaddle.”
The Deepest Blue (Roadmap to Your Heart #2) Page 1
