Evan
Page 9
They pulled up in front of the department store before it opened. Clint used his key to let himself in through the back and snuck to the fourth floor, immediately spotting Evan. Today he had on a handsome beige suit accented by a bold blue tie that drew out the blue in his eyes. He’d love to watch the man work, but he had more important business.
“Evan!”
He spun around and widened his eyes, but then covered his surprise with a beautiful grin. “Mr. Duke. What brings you out so early?”
“Cut the shit. What’s going on? Why won’t your number save into my phone?”
He lost his smile and glanced around, shrugging and forcing a smile at the employees within earshot. As soon as Clint was close enough, Evan forced both their backs to everyone else. “You know, if you want people to believe this straight act you’ve got going, you shouldn’t demand something like that from an openly gay man. It could give people the wrong idea.”
Clint nodded. As much as he hated to concede, Evan was right. “Sorry. You’ve just got me tied in knots.”
“Likewise.” They exchanged a knowing, longing glance that said more than anything they could have said aloud. “Now, would you like to tell me why you’re so worked up? If it’s because I wasn’t there when you woke up, I left you a note.”
“You did?” He lost his wind as he studied the man. “I didn’t see any note.”
“It was somewhere I knew you’d find it.” He glanced around and leaned closer as he lowered his voice. “On your phone—the one thing you seem to pay more attention to than to me. Not that I’m jealous or anything.”
One of the papers he’d swept aside before calling and checking on his uncle. He had to admit, he liked the flattery of having Evan jealous of anything concerning him. “Why, Mr. McKoy. Are you jealous of my cellular device?”
“No.” The color burning his cheeks told an entirely different story. “I’m just saying that you spend a lot of time on your phone.”
“Would you rather I spend my time on you?”
“Yes,” he answered quickly. Too quickly. When Evan realized what he just admitted to, he colored harder. But he didn’t take it back. Instead, he repeated the single word with whispered conviction. “Yes.”
The pride swelled, both in his chest and in other parts of his body. Clint inhaled sharply and refocused his attention. “Next time put your note in my phone, or will that not save, either.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You come up as blocked. It’s like you don’t want me to keep you.” He rolled his eyes and finished with, “In my contacts, I mean.”
Evan narrowed his gaze. “You’re not making any sense.”
“I know,” he roared, earning more curious glances. “None of this makes any sense.”
“Start over. Why are you so upset?”
Clint thinned his lips and growled as his patience wore thin. It didn’t help that he hadn’t had anything to eat, yet. As hard as he’d worked out, he should have at least grabbed an apple. “I tried your number this morning. Twice. It went to voicemail both times.”
He frowned as he pulled the phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. “That’s weird. I’ve had it on me all morning.” He shrugged and dropped it back into his pocket.
“That’s it?”
Evan blinked. “Was there something else?”
“Why won’t your number save?”
He narrowed his gaze once again. “Save where?”
“Into my phone. Into Angela’s phone.”
“Who’s Angela?”
“That’s not the point,” he practically yelled. Even though he caught himself, he still earned a few more looks. This was not the conversation to have out in the open. “Just answer the question.”
“Was there one?”
“Oh, my God. I’m going to strangle you.”
“I’m sure that breaks your no touching rule.” He grinned and wiggled his dark eyebrows. Damn him for enjoying this. Clint was close to needing stent number one.
“This isn’t funny.”
“Hello, honeys.” Patsy swayed between them, purposely pushing them apart.
“Good morning, sweetie. Just in time, as usual.” Evan kissed her cheek before stepping out from behind the counter. “I’m going to open up.”
“You already have, my fine fairied friend.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“So are you.” She winked as he disappeared toward the door, not once looking back at Clint. Damn him.
Giving up on getting a straight answer out of Evan, he redirected his attention to the woman in love with the man now dancing on Clint’s last nerve. “Ms. Cline, you’re looking exceptional today.”
“Oh, Mr. Duke.” Her smile lit up her expression. “I look exceptional every day. Today’s no different, but thank you.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. Patsy Cline had self-confidence in spades. He focused his attention on the woman in dark slacks and matching cashmere sweater. The light blue scarf accented the outfit nicely and brought attention to her eyes. She definitely knew how to dress.
Did she know his secret? Did Evan run and tell his BFF the juicy gossip that Clint Duke preferred men? Judging by the way she eyed him like he was her next meal, he’d wager that answer to be no. He decided to play that up. Maybe she’d say something useful, something to help Clint unravel the mystery of Evan McKoy.
“Patsy, how long have you and Evan known each other?”
“About ten years or so, I guess.” She adjusted the mirror on the counter and applied a fresh layer of red lipstick.
“How’d you meet?”
“I worked the floor. He cleaned the floor. We used to end up in the break room at the same time and it just sort of went from there. It wasn’t long before we were scheduling our breaks and lunches together. Then dinners. Weekends.” She sighed and smiled at her reflection.
She was most definitely in love with Evan. Clint knew better than to point out her wasted effort after the way Hailey had reacted after discovering Jack hadn’t been in love with her, but with Clint. Both men had nearly lost vital parts of their anatomy. “Sounds like you two really hit it off.”
“Yeah.” She wiped at the corners of her lips. “It’s too bad he bats for the other team. We could have really been great, you know? Did you know I was his first?”
Clint’s heart hit the roof of his mouth. “First what?”
“First swing and a miss,” she answered with a hollow sadness. “He stayed on my couch for a while. I offered him to share my bed, but he preferred the couch.” She dropped the lipstick and sighed hard, lowering her gaze woefully. “The couch over me.”
“That’s when you knew?”
“I could have been the one, you know? If only.” She sighed and returned her attention to her reflection. “If only.”
He cleared his throat and allowed several seconds before he switched topics, giving her a respectable amount of time to mourn the relationship that’d never be. “How’d he end up the head of the department?”
“He earned it, let me tell you.” She swung around to face him, an interesting gleam in her eye. “Why so many questions about Evan, Mr. Duke?”
Was it that obvious? Shit. He needed to tone it down. Squaring his shoulders, he switched from curious potential partner to serious new owner. “It’s my job to learn as much as I can about the employees that make up the departments on the chopping block in case they can be moved to other positions.”
“Other positions, you say?” Instead of his comment putting her in her place, it only intensified that knowing dance in her eyes. “What sort of other positions?”
“With the company.”
“Right.” She stepped into his personal space. “Would that be present company?”
He frowned and retreated a safe distance. Something about Patsy Cline scared him. A little. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re implying.”
She moved in even closer this time. “Don
’t bullshit me, Mr. Duke. I have a very good gaydar and you, my friend, may not peg the meter, but you definitely register. At first, I thought you might be bi, or maybe just curious. After seeing the way you follow Evan around like you’re in rut while not even bothering a second glance at the ladies, I have a pretty good idea he’s more your type. I’ll let you in on a little secret. I love him more than I love myself, and I really love myself. You hurt him, and that hurts me. I don’t wallow in pain. I tend to return it.”
Okay, she scared him a lot. He debated lying, but quickly dismissed the idea. If he and Evan ever entered into an agreement, she’d learn the truth. Despite the NDA he had all his subs sign, word got out. It always did, especially to the BFF. “It was lovely talking with you, Ms. Cline.”
“Likewise, Mr. Duke.”
8
Evan stayed busy through closing, thanks to the customer from yesterday following through with his promise to drag the future bride and groom to the store for an engagement set. Although the brothers were identical twins, they couldn’t be more different. Jeremy was quiet, thoughtful, and constantly adjusted his rimless glasses as he asked his fiancée’s opinion.
Jason just said dude and bro a lot.
They’d finally settled on a flawless two-point-five carat solitaire diamond in white gold for her and a classically timeless matching band for him. Although they could have afforded more—she was the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, after all—anything larger would have dwarfed her delicate fingers. Evan rang up the sale and had added a box of Trelleys for good measure.
He was just closing up when his phone buzzed. Odd. He only received text messages once the number cleared HQ, which annoyed him. Even though he wasn’t TREX, as a relative of a TREX agent and past resident of the Farm, Evan had to follow a few guidelines. An encrypted phone routing through the agency. Regular check-ins with Walsh. Using that stupid cover story of TREX being a game if anyone asked.
His phone buzzed again. He checked the number and scrambled to answer. Why would HQ be calling him? “Evan McKoy.”
“Are you secure?”
Glancing around and not seeing another soul, he said, “Yes.”
“I’m patching you through.”
To who? Walsh? Why would they need a secure line rerouted through TREX’s HQ? They saw each other this morning. Please don’t let anything be wrong at the Farm.
“Evan?” Not Walsh. Not even male.
“Meg?” Why on God’s green earth would his sister need to call him on a secured line? “Please tell me you’re not in some prison somewhere and this is your one phone call.”
“You definitely wouldn’t be my one phone call.”
“Rude.”
“All your money is tied up in your wardrobe. I highly doubt they’d accept Prada as a form of payment. Anyway, I called to let you know you may be on to something by having TREX dig into Duke Enterprises.”
Crap. How could he call off the bloodhound agency from tracking Clint after Evan put the trace on him in the first place? He forced a nervous laugh. “Oh, that was really nothing.”
“Nothing? Then would you like to explain why several numbers originating from Duke Enterprises have been pinging your phone since you made the request to dig into the CEO? You uncovered something, Evan. Something Duke Enterprises wants to keep covered.”
Double crap. He swallowed hard and reluctantly asked, “And that is?”
“Something’s not right with the financials. Large payments made to seemingly random people. There’s no pattern. We’ve got one of our best forensic accountants on it. If there’s something there, he’ll find it. In the meantime—”
Oh, no. Please, no. “Megan, wait.”
“—we’re sending someone in to get closer to Duke.”
Shit.
“That’s not necessary.”
“What do you mean? You asked me to look into Duke. I looked into Duke.”
“I, uh… I changed my mind. You can drop your inquiry into Clint.”
“Clint?” Megan picked up on the name. “You’re on a first name basis with the boss now?”
“Yes.” It came out as a question. “We’re sort of friends now.” Friends who stick their tongues down each other’s throats. Friends who sleep in the same bed. Friends speeding toward being so much more.
“Friends? What sort of friends?”
“Friend friends.”
“I see,” she sang. “How about this. I’ll get TREX to hold off bringing someone in if you do something in return.”
“That is?”
“Why not do a little recon on your own? You’ve hinted at wanting to join the agency. Now’s your chance to prove you don’t need a college degree to be a good agent. I can convince Ryan—he’s the intel agent digging into Duke Enterprises—to put this on hold if we have someone on the inside who can feed us intel.”
Feed them intel? What did that even mean? Evan closed his eyes and sighed. His gut told him this would not end well. Not for Clint. Not for Evan. Definitely not for them having a chance. When Clint found out Evan had been sent to spy on him, they’d end up enemies for sure. But, if he wanted the agency to back off, he didn’t have much of a choice. “Anything else?”
“Stick to Duke and report back on anything that seems off.”
Do playrooms count? He kept the question to himself and asked another. “Report to who?”
“Right now? Me. I’m your handler on this.”
“My what?”
“Your handler,” Meg repeated, sounding annoyed, like he was supposed to know the correct protocol. He wasn’t even an agent. Hell, he didn’t know if he wanted to be after hearing some of the stories she told him—and those were only the stories she had permission to share. “All rookies are assigned a handler their first year.”
“Meg, I’m not sure I can do this.”
“It’s either you or the agent earmarked for the assignment. Trust me, she’s willing to do whoever it takes to get intel.”
“You mean whatever.” Please mean whatever.
“What do you think?”
He thought sending a woman in to literally do the man was wasted effort. Clint already trusted him. As much as Evan hated the idea, if he wanted TREX to back off, he had to step up. “Fine. I’ll call you if I find anything.”
“You mean when.”
“Good-bye, Meg.” He ended the call and leaned back, using the wall to keep him upright. This was going to backfire on him, he just knew it.
“Ready?”
He jumped up straight. Clint Duke, that gorgeous smile wide on his handsome face, hurried toward him. “Clint? What are you doing here?”
“We have a date.”
“We do?”
“A drink. You agreed.”
Evan shook his head. “No, you said you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Same thing.” He shrugged and nodded at the elevator. “Come on. Let’s hit the bar upstairs.”
He didn’t feel like a drink. He just wanted to go home and figure shit out. Or, better yet, head out to the Farm and have Walsh tell him what to do. Meg’s order replayed in his head. Stick to Duke. “I’ll be up in a few. I have to make sure everything is locked up down here, first.”
“We employ several security guards whose job it is to do exactly that.”
“It’ll only take me a minute.”
“Evan, are you trying to get out of having a drink with me?”
The rest of the excuses he’d managed to compile the last minute or so slipped from his mind. Stick to Duke. “I’d rather have one in private.”
His expression shined as his eyes lit up. Damn, he was one fine-looking man. “Now, I like the sound of that.” He approached and stopped less than a foot from Evan. “As much as I’d love to take you back to my place, I don’t trust myself alone with you.”
That surprised him. Clint Duke had been giving Evan the full-court press since they’d first met. Why stop now? They’d already spent the night together. Granted, the
y only slept, but Evan wrote that off to Clint being too exhausted to do anything else. Besides, they’d just come from the hospital. The man had other things on his mind. “We were alone last night.”
“That’s exactly my point. I’ve already broken too many rules with you.”
“Ah, yes. The no touching rule.” Which still irritated him. That hadn’t stopped Clint from delivering one of the most life-altering kisses Evan had ever experienced. “Don’t worry, I promise I won’t attack.”
“It isn’t for my protection,” he countered solemnly. “It’s for yours.”
Every single muscle in his body tightened, his senses suddenly heightened. “Excuse me?”
“Please, come have a drink with me. We’ll discuss the arrangement.” His phone buzzed, and he checked the screen with a frown. “I have to take this. Grab us a couple seats. I’ll be up as soon as I can.”
Pushing the conversation he just had with his sister to the back of his mind, Evan gave him a firm nod. His curiosity over discussing an arrangement with Clint Duke fueled his decision. He nodded and took the elevator to the top floor, the whole while wondering if the arrangement involved the playroom he still hadn’t seen—and really wanted to. Despite his firm belief he didn’t want anything to do with the BDSM lifestyle, he’d actually never tried it.
Maybe it was time he did.
“Clint Duke.”
“False alarm,” Angela announced. “There are no issues with the background check.”
He paced outside the elevator doors, anxious for this call to end so he could join Evan upstairs. When his assistant made that announcement, he skidded to a stop. “What about the phone? The fact his number wouldn’t save? The fact he never answers it, but calls me back right away?”
“Cell service is sporadic due to the Perseid meteor shower. Happens every August. It’s at its peak right now, so expect spotty coverage for another week or so.”
“There’s nothing else?”
“Nothing, sir. Shall I draw up the contract?”
“Have it waiting for me at my penthouse in an hour.” The sooner he walked through the agreement with Evan, the sooner they’d be able to take that next step. Clint’s skin hummed with arousing energy.