Try For You

by J. P. Oliver

  Try For You

  For You: Book 2

  J.P. Oliver

  Contents

  Hi there!

  1. Ryder

  2. Ace

  3. Ryder

  4. Ace

  5. Ryder

  6. Ace

  7. Ryder

  8. Ace

  9. Ryder

  10. Ace

  11. Ryder

  12. Ace

  13. Ryder

  14. Ace

  15. Ryder

  16. Ace

  17. Ryder

  18. Ace

  19. Ryder

  Epilogue

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  1

  Ryder

  Oh, sweet, sweet fresh meat.

  I left Captain Asher’s office with a special spring in my step and a big-ass smile on my face. Maybe I looked crazy, but who cared, right? We were getting a new transfer and it was my honor to be assigned to show the newbie the ropes.

  Not that the task didn’t usually fall to me anyway; being the friendliest (and, in my humble opinion, handsomest) detective at the Harlan Police Department, Captain Asher knew I was the easiest to get along with and the most willing to do the job. Seriously, any other cop would be groaning and dragging ass once they were given the order to break in the newbie, but not me. Hell, no—I loved this shit.

  Being a detective was great, too. Harlan was my hometown and, after grinding hard as an officer for four years, Asher promoted me to detective, where I got to walk the mean streets (if you could ever call Harlan mean) with one of my lifelong best friends, Detective Eli Mack, who was, if you asked me, the most dedicated guy in the precinct. But, hey, you’ve gotta be dedicated if you’re lead detective.

  Anyway—back to me. Four years as an officer and even longer as a detective made me the perfect candidate for showing the new guy the way around Harlan PD.

  It was later that I was hanging around the water cooler with Eli when I got a little more information about the transfer; Captain Asher had been typically unhelpful when I asked for details, telling me I could “ask the man yourself later.” Thankfully, Eli was a little more forthcoming:

  “He’s a transfer from Denver,” Eli said, arms crossed, face serious like it usually was. “Apparently, the chief up there requested the transfer on the newbie’s behalf.”

  I hummed, interest even more piqued. “He requested to transfer out?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Weird.”

  I grinned. It was unusual to request a transfer out of Denver—most cops were itching to get a piece of the action that went down in the city—and it was especially strange for someone to request Harlan of all places. We weren’t exactly a big star on the map, if you know what I mean.

  “Captain tell you when he’s coming in?” I asked.

  “He didn’t mention it?”

  I blew out a hard breath. “Come on, Asher’s cryptic as hell. I thought maybe he’d said something to you, man.”

  “Yeah. Tomorrow, I think.” Eli rubbed his tired eyes, probably sore from the paperwork we’d been sifting through all day.

  “Clerical day getting to you?” I laughed.

  Eli groaned. “You’re way too fucking chipper today.”

  “That’s because we’ve got some fresh meat on the way.” I winked at him and pushed off the wall, heading back towards my desk. “Take some ibuprofen, big guy, you’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “I know what’ll soothe those eyes of yours,” I said. “A round or two at O’Neill’s?”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yessir.”

  Eli grunted in response, which wasn’t a no, which meant I could probably drag him along with me to O’Neill’s, one of Harlan’s best little dive bars. It was always a favorite of ours, full of a hundred fond memories: birthdays and long nights and our first legal drinks (and, of course, several illegal drinks thanks to some very convincing fake IDs from when we were nineteen).

  My hunch ended up being right about Eli.

  Despite his size and notorious stubbornness, it was remarkably easy to get him to follow me to O’Neill’s, where we took up in our usual booth with Gavin, an old buddy from high school, one of the Fab Four—that’s me, Eli, Gavin, and Tyson Rowe, who was unfortunately unable to join us that evening.

  “What’s the little guy up to tonight anyway?” I asked, picking at a plate of their famous Wing Wednesday wings.

  “Night class,” Eli said.

  His face softened when he spoke about Ty. Ty was probably the only person who could have such an effect on Eli, which made sense. They were about to get married, after all, after many agonizing years of what they thought was unrequited crushing. After ten years of radio silence and an eventful return to Harlan, Ty and Eli finally got together, and, honestly, I’d never seen either of them happier.

  “Speaking of Ty,” Gavin drew out, “he seemed a little stressed when he came by my shop the other day?”

  “Yeah.” Eli sighed, but there was a small smile on his face. “I think the whole planning a wedding while going to school thing is starting to catch up with him a little. I keep telling him to take it easy, but….”

  We all shared a knowing look. Ty had wanted to marry Eli since middle school, probably, so it made sense he’d want to get it all done as soon as possible.

  “You’re doing it at your place, right?” I asked.

  Eli drained his beer. “Yup. The dock, probably.”

  Gavin and I made a chorus of sickly sweet awwws, which got Eli’s face nice and red and twisted up, and the silence that followed was tense, like maybe Eli got a little embarrassed by our teasing—but looking at him, it was something else.

  “You look constipated, bud,” I said. “What’s up?”

  Eli muttered something under his breath about not being fucking constipated before fixing me with a serious but soft look. “Look, I was gonna ask you to be my best man, asshole, but if you think I look like I need to take a shit, I’ll just ask Gavin instead.”

  Distantly, Gavin said, “What a sweet proposal. I accept.”

  But I barely heard him. Instead, I was hyperfocused on what sweet thing Eli had just tried to cover up by being brusque. My heart felt heavy in a good way and, before I knew it, my smile was so big that I thought it might rip my damn face in two.

  “What? Come again?”

  Eli grinned. “Don’t make me ask again….”

  “Oh, please do.”

  “Will you be my best man, asshole?”

  I felt like laughing or, hell, maybe even tearing up a little. My best friend was getting married to one of my other best friends, and, holy shit, I was going to be his best man???

  Gavin was smiling. “Wow, he’s actually speechless.”

  “For once in his life,” Eli said.

  “Shhhh.” I waved at both of them. “Man, of course I’ll be your best man.”

  I stood from the table abruptly, arms spread out because I had to do something with all this affection and love I was feeling for my friends, and, though Eli was shaking his head and holding his hands up in defense, he couldn’t escape my hug. Eventually, he just accepted it as I nearly fell into his lap in the booth, Gavin hollering and laughing at the sight.

  “I change my mind,” Eli said, trying to sound gruff but failing kind of miserably.

  “Nope
.” I told him, punching his shoulder. “No take-backs.”

  Life was fucking good.

  As I walked into the precinct the next morning, still sort of high from being asked to be a best man, I was hardly even thinking about showing the new guy around. There wasn’t really anything to worry about on that front, because I’d done it a million times, but maybe I should have anticipated that there would be something about him.

  I stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted him, an unfamiliar face speaking too seriously with Captain Asher.

  That something was that he was absolutely fucking gorgeous.

  This guy had to be the transfer. In Harlan, it was pretty rare to not know someone’s face, so I was praying as I tried not to swallow my tongue that this was the man I was about to be stuck with all week.

  My eyes didn’t know where to go first: he was tall, but shorter than me by a decent amount, slim and with muscles that were well-hidden beneath his pressed shirt to the untrained eye (my eye was very trained when it came to checking guys out, thanks). The dark scruff and styled hair said sexy, but the baby blue eyes that were far too pouty for his serious demeanor told me he probably wasn’t even fully aware of it.

  As if sensing my eyes all over his body, the man turned to me, as did Captain Asher, who, with a wave of his hand, gestured for me to join them.

  “Detective Mueller,” Asher said. “We were just talking about you.”

  I glanced between the two of them, putting on my most charming smile and hoping I wasn’t drooling a little. “Good things, I hope.”

  “Actually, I was telling him you can be quite a pain in the ass.”

  I laughed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Damn, Captain, and here I was thinking you didn’t like me.”

  Asher cracked a small smile. “I’ve spoken very highly of you,” he said, turning to the handsome stranger who’d yet to say a single word. “Mr. Payne, this is Detective Mueller—”

  I held my hand out to him. “Just Ryder is fine.”

  Our eyes met and, damn, it did something to me.

  Those baby blues almost betrayed something like interest before he schooled them into being cold and professional like the rest of him.

  “Nice to meet you,” the guy said.

  We shook hands.

  He was cool like ice, and seemed as untouchable as glass. Not the kind where you know just how hot and unattainable you are, or like he thought he was better than everyone else. No, it was different. Closed off. Impenetrable.

  I flashed him a warm smile, hoping it would melt whatever cold front he was putting up.

  “Nice to meet you, too, uh—”

  “Ace,” he said. “Ace Payne.”

  2

  Ace

  I’m screwed.

  That was the first thing that came to mind when I first saw Ryder Mueller.

  The minute he came striding in through the doors with a smooth and confident ease, I knew it, I knew I was in major trouble. He looked like a goddamn movie star, tall and undeniably bulky underneath his tight shirt, like his second home was the gym. It only got worse when he opened that mouth of his, smile crooked as his green eyes passed over my face, flickering with interest. Good things, I hope.

  His voice was like silk and when it was directed at me, I felt my whole body go tight.

  “Ace Payne,” I told him, and he smiled like we’d been friends a long time.

  “Ace,” he repeated.

  My dick twitched with interest as he said my name. Let each letter roll around in his mouth and—

  Keep your shit together.

  I cleared my throat and tried to focus on whatever Captain Asher was saying. Great. Just great. First day at work and I was already mentally fucking the first coworker I’d properly met.

  Like I said: totally screwed.

  But, no. I wouldn’t let myself get carried away again. I couldn’t afford to let my perversions ruin another good thing for me, especially since I was new to Harlan and this precinct; no, I had to make a good impression. I needed to show them that I was willing to work hard and be professional, and that meant any shameful thoughts needed to be locked away.

  “You’ll be shadowing a detective here,” Asher said, “for the first week or so, and then we’ll see where you fit in best. In terms of partnering, we’ll make a more informed decision when the time comes for your first evaluation, but until then, Detective Mueller will be your guide, so to speak.”

  Ryder flashed me that sideways smile.

  I was going to fucking scream.

  It wasn’t bad enough that I was insanely and instantly attracted to the guy. I would be shadowing Ryder for the week, my partner du jour, which seemed cosmically unfair. I didn’t know how I would survive hours of working with him or what I’d done to deserve such… difficult temptations.

  “Well.” Asher gestured to the two of us before making for his office. “I’ll let you two get acquainted.”

  And that was the final word on it.

  He left me behind to drown in Ryder’s sea green eyes.

  We shared a glance; I don’t know how he seemed totally at ease. As he opened his mouth to say something in that unfairly sexy voice, another cut him off—

  “Ryder,” said one man, sweeping up behind him to pat him on the back, another at his side, both of them looking at me like they were going to eat me—and not in the fun way. “This the fresh meat?”

  Ryder laughed it off easily. “Why, yes, it is, and he’s got a name. Ace Payne,” and he gestured to me. “These two idiots are Detectives Riley and Willoughby. Guys, this is Ace, my official new best friend for the next week so play nice, all right?”

  Riley and Willoughby protested that they were always nice, which I highly doubted. Watching them all interact, it was painfully evident that Ryder Mueller was well-liked. Popular and friendly and easygoing—things I never could be.

  I swallowed around the flicker of envy I felt.

  The officers and detectives back in Denver were of the same make as Ryder and the others: personable. Rough. Open. Joking. It made them strong as a squad, but I was never able to get close with them. I just didn’t do personable.

  Some guys just have it so easy….

  “Oh, hey! Eli! C’mere.” Ryder waved at someone as they left an office adjacent to Captain Ash’s.

  He was a man built like a brick house, with the most beautiful stormy gray eyes I’d ever seen in my life.

  “Ace,” Ryder said, my name flowing out of his mouth too easily. “This is my best friend, our lead detective, and resident hard-ass, Elliot Mack. Eli, this is Ace Payne.”

  “Please stop introducing me like that,” Eli said, slightly exasperated.

  He seemed like a tough guy, but offered a nice smile when we shook hands and he welcomed me to the force.

  “Harlan’s a great place,” Eli said. “We’re happy to have another addition to the squad.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said.

  And looking around, I really didn’t.

  But if the entire precinct was full of big, gorgeous men like these, too, well… I was, as I said before, screwed.

  “Over here’s the water cooler,” Ryder said, pausing to shoot me a playful look over his shoulder. “Careful, the gossip can get pretty raunchy around here.”

  I swallowed. Raunchy.

  “Is that so?” I asked, maintaining a disinterested facade.

  And the tour of the precinct went on in a similar fashion: Ryder showing me every office, hallway, elevator, vending machine, bathroom, nook, and cranny he could point a finger at while I concentrated very hard on not looking at his ass as he walked in front of me.

  Get it together, Ace, get it together.

  Coaching could only help so much, though. I might have stumbled and looked once or twice. When Ryder wheeled me to an empty desk and told me it was mine and the tour was officially over, I let out a breath I’d been holding since he walked into the room.

  “Thank you,” I said, scanning the emp
ty space and regulation computer.

  I set my bag down, already planning on where to put my minimal things, when I noticed Ryder hadn’t left me alone yet.

  I looked up at him, brows furrowed.

  He looked back, unashamed and interested.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  Ryder made an almost thoughtful face before he pulled a spare chair over, sitting down on it backwards, muscular arms folding over the back.

  “Captain told us to get acquainted,” Ryder said. “So—let’s get acquainted.”

  I know one way we could get acquainted.

  I huffed. “That’s not necessary, Ryder. You’ve done plenty enough already.”

  “Oh, no, you’re not getting out of it that easy.”

  With a pointed sigh, I sat in my own chair, legs crossing with what was probably a rude amount of disinterest. “All right. Tell me about yourself.”

  Ryder shook his head. “That comes after. First you.” When it became evident I wasn’t going to willingly just jump into a lengthy monologue about my past and hobbies and family, he tried himself. “Have you gotten a chance to see the town yet? Get around Harlan?”

  “No.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I started working right away, as soon as I moved in. I just haven’t had time.”

  Ryder hummed, eyes glimmering as he leaned on the edge of my desk. “Well, I could always give you a ride.”

  Ride. The word hung between us, suggestively spun by his low, smooth voice.

  Heat flared in my chest. I could feel my muscles tightening, fingers curled and tense where they’d just been relaxed.