“You’re a brave man,” Zane rasped. “I hope that the next time I’m with you and it’s dark, you’ll let me hold you,” Zane said.
“You’re gonna have to,” Ty responded in a broken laugh, “ ’cause all the current evidence points to the fact that I’ll cry like a little girl.”
“That’s okay,” Zane murmured without humor, raising his left arm so he could stroke Ty’s cheek gently with shaking fingers. “Still want you.”
Ty glanced over his shoulder nervously and then back at Zane guiltily.
Zane smiled. His eyes flickered to the empty doorway and back.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “There’s no one watching.”
A pained look came over Ty’s face before he looked away again.
Zane nodded, relaxing some against the pillows. “I understand,” he said gently. He didn’t have the years of habit to break. He lowered his arm and rested it on the bed again. “When do you leave?”
“Now,” Ty murmured, unable to look up.
Zane’s breath caught for a long moment until he forced himself to exhale. There wasn’t anything else to say, then. And nothing else to be done.
One more time, he’d have to watch Ty walk away, and he couldn’t do anything more about it than last time. “Quick kiss before you go?” he requested, knowing it would be hard if Ty was truly as on edge as he was acting.
Ty closed his eyes and shivered. “I do want you,” he whispered. “I want you to find me, as soon as you’re free,” he murmured as he looked up.
Zane nodded and watched the battle warring in Ty’s expressive hazel eyes. It hurt more than he would ever have expected. “Take care of yourself,”
he said, exhaustion breaking past his bold front.
Ty reached impulsively and smoothed Zane’s hair back from his forehead. He stood, bending over him to press a kiss to his forehead. “We can still cut and run,” he whispered against the warm skin.
Swallowing hard, Zane shivered as hope shot through him. Hope for something other than the occasional flyby as they passed each other by while working. He had to try to ignore the twang he felt at the thought of leaving his hard-earned and well-loved job behind.
“Just say the word,” he said thickly.
Ty closed his eyes, his fingers tightening in Zane’s hair. He was proposing they both give up a job they loved, give up everything either of them knew. “We can open up a flower shop and sell black-market orchids from the back,” he offered with a slight hitch in his voice.
Zane smiled at the flash of humor, though he knew it was Ty’s defense mechanism. “Just say the word,” he repeated quietly, though he knew Ty never would, and he wondered what he himself would do if it ever came to that. “Go on. Go, while I’m too drugged to stop you.”
“Even if I quit now, I couldn’t stay here,” Ty responded almost defensively, as if trying to convince himself to go. “I couldn’t stay with you.”
Calm in the face of Ty’s struggle, Zane nodded. “You’re right,” he said evenly.
Ty moved quickly and pressed a kiss to Zane’s lips. “Be careful, Zane,” he breathed, then stood and swiftly walked away from the hospital bed, not looking back as he disappeared through the door.
THE motorcycle sped along Interstate 35 under the bright sunlight, skillfully handled by the rider in brown leather and a full-face helmet. The bike moved steadily through the thin traffic. The rider reached out and thumbed a button when the headphone in his helmet beeped for a phone call.
“Garrett,” he shouted over the roar of the engine.
“Special Agent Garrett.”
Zane blinked and looked from side to side as he gunned the bike to speed up. “What do you want, Burns? I’m on vacation.”
“Yes, I know. Five months of Miami earns you three weeks of vacation. How are you, Zane?”
Even more surprised to be called by name, Zane tilted his head. “I’m good,” he answered cautiously.
“Where are you, pray tell?”
“Home,” Zane answered slowly.
“How is Texas? Sunny?” Burns asked politely.
“No, we’re in the middle of a blizzard,” Zane deadpanned.
“Well, your wit is still as sharp as a broken toothpick,” Burns said with a sigh. “Vacation is over in four days. I want you here in DC on the fifth.”
Zane pressed his lips together as he guided the bike off the interstate onto a lesser highway. “You’re the boss,” he finally said.
“You’re not going back to Miami,” Burns said placatingly.
“Miami’s a cesspool,” Zane muttered, unconsciously repeating a sentiment said to him what seemed like years ago.
“Be here in five days. The Bureau will pay for transport, if you like.
Get your head wrapped around the idea of a few easy assignments and a new partner while you’re at it,” Burns instructed.
Zane’s gut clenched painfully. “I’ve told you. I don’t want a new partner. What happened to my old partner?”
Burns usually blithely ignored him when he asked about Ty, but now he cleared his throat and said, “That’s classified. See you in five days, Special Agent Garrett.” And the Assistant Director hung up.
Zane had to force himself to pay attention to traffic as his stomach roiled. He didn’t want another partner. He only wanted Ty.
God. Ty. Almost six months had passed, and not a word. Not a message. Nothing but blind hope to keep him going. Work made it easier to forget. But after the second time being injured in Miami this past tour, Zane snapped out of the dangerous, depressive funk and figured out he had better listen to Ty’s request for him to be careful or he’d cut his chances of seeing him again to nil. He put in the vacation and transfer requests, and for the first time in five years, went home to Texas.
The last three weeks had been full of memories; old and new, good and bad. Ty was always there, on the edge of his periphery, and Zane felt like a part of himself was missing. What were the chances Burns would put him back together with Ty? Zane figured on absolutely none, and that was optimistic. If Zane had been put back in deep cover, then Ty had to have been as well. That was the other man’s specialty, after all, and the classified answer pretty much confirmed it. But he couldn’t help hoping. At least Burns might be willing to tell him how to contact Ty when they spoke in five days.