“You were on a pool float because it squeaked when you moved; we had to make sure you were still breathing!”
Ty gave a dismissive grunt and wave as he put the boat through its paces, apparently preparing to set it at anchor.
“Few years in a suit and Princess is suddenly too good for a pool float,” Nick whispered to Zane with a smirk as he handed them each a water bottle. “I’ve got food, beer, sodas, and water in the fridge. Garrett, help yourself.”
“Thanks,” Zane said, half laughing, wondering how often Nick got away with calling Ty a princess. He resented that Nick was a likable guy. He really wanted to hate him and be rude to him.
“Go on and sleep,” Nick told them. “I’ll get us settled for the night and keep watch.”
Ty left the wheel and stood. He looked from Nick to Zane, as if waiting to see if Zane was going to deck Nick. When Zane didn’t move, Ty took a few steps toward Nick and took his forearm instead of his hand, gripping it hard. “Thanks, Irish.”
“You know it,” Nick said, and then he nodded at Zane and turned to slip into the pilot’s seat.
Zane followed Ty down the stairs to the smaller of the two cabins. There was what appeared to be a queen-size bed tucked into the room, with wooden steps on either side to climb into it. Ty stuffed their bags onto a shelf that circled the bow-shaped room, then looked at Zane and smiled, albeit uncomfortably. He rubbed his hands up and down the material of his jeans just below the pockets, a nervous habit he only displayed when he couldn’t find anything else to do with his hands.
“He’s a decent guy, isn’t he?” Zane asked, dejected.
“Zane.”
“I really want to hate him.”
“So hate him. You have every right. Being drunk is never an excuse to do stupid shit. You’ll have to hate me too, though, ’cause I was there and I kissed him back.”
The words hit Zane in the chest like a sledgehammer. He stared at Ty until he realized that he wasn’t breathing and he cleared his throat. His voice was flat when he spoke. “Really.”
Ty let out a pent-up breath, his shoulders slumping as he looked away from Zane, unable to meet his eyes.
“Did you like it?” Zane asked, his voice going lower, full of barely repressed anger that he was surprised to hear.
“Zane, come on, what’s the point in that?” Ty asked, sounding frustrated and angry and possibly a little scared by the question.
Zane narrowed his eyes to scrutinize his lover. Ty had his lips pressed into a thin line and was staring at him with his hands on his hips, his eyes unreadable.
“Yeah,” he answered, spitting out the word. “A little.”
Zane couldn’t help the twisting sensation in his chest. He didn’t want to think about that, and he certainly didn’t want his very active imagination providing him with any visuals. He pressed his lips together hard and looked up at the low ceiling to let out a long breath. “I kind of wish I hadn’t asked.”
“I kind of wish I had lied,” Ty said in a soft voice.
Zane shook his head. Ty stepped up to him, hesitant, as if he thought Zane might rebuff him. He reached out and touched Zane’s cheek, stepping closer to brush his lips against Zane’s chin.
Zane closed his eyes. Ty was being just as brutally honest as he always was, even if it hurt him and even if it hurt Zane. There was something comforting in that. It didn’t wipe away the knowledge that Nick O’Flaherty was in love with Ty and had been for years or that Ty had shared and enjoyed a kiss with him.
Zane set his forehead against Ty’s cheekbone, letting his hands slide around Ty and pull him closer.
“Zane,” Ty whispered, uncertainty clouding his voice.
“I know. It’s okay. I just hate that you’re so close to him.”
Ty jerked his head and pulled back. Zane let him go. “I haven’t spoken to him since he left Baltimore, Zane. I used to talk to him at least once every day, even if it was just a random text, but that’s stopped. He’s leaving me alone out of respect for you, for us, and I have to tell you, baby, I miss him.”
Zane snorted in annoyance.
“But if that’s what you need, I’ll do it. Do you understand? I’ll do anything you need me to do. Because I have never felt like this about anything, and I’m terrified of screwing up and losing it.”
Zane held his breath, meeting Ty’s eyes. “He’s your best friend, Ty.”
“If it’s you or him, there’s no question who I’ll choose.”
Zane was ashamed of the effect those words had on him. He felt like doing the Snoopy dance around the room. Instead, he said: “I don’t want that.”
Ty nodded. “Let it sit for a while. Okay? Let’s just live through this first.”
“Yeah,” Zane murmured, though his eyes were drawn up, to where Nick still was.
Ty was silent. Finally, he swallowed hard and shook his head. “I know you’re worried. Nick knows me pretty well. I think you’d probably have to go to Deuce to find someone who knows me better.” He looked up, as if measuring his words. “He knows what love means to me, when he’s not drunk off his ass like we were that night. It never should have happened, and he knows it.”
Zane had to deal with both a little spot of relief—that Nick knew better than to push—and a small spark of pain at the same time. It was true: he didn’t know Ty as well as Deuce or Nick. Zane allowed himself a melancholy moment. Sometimes it seemed that Ty could read his mind, but Zane was still fighting through gauze when it came to Ty.
“They’ve known you a lot longer than I have,” he said. “A lot of history there I’m not connected to.”
“Stop it,” Ty said gently. His voice was warm and affectionate, and his fingers slid up and down Zane’s arm as he stepped closer and wrapped Zane up in a hug.
Zane huffed but smiled against Ty’s shoulder. He liked that Ty knew him so well. It was like a splash of cold water to the face every time he started to sink into thinking he was a mystery. “So tell me something.”
“Anything,” Ty said in a low whisper. Just like the first time he’d answered with that, months ago in a tent, Zane’s stomach did a happy flip. He steeled himself to ask the only thing he could think of just then.
“How the hell does Nick afford this boat?”
Ty’s fingers came to a stop, and he seemed to be holding his breath as the muscles against Zane’s body tightened. Then he sighed and relaxed again, his fingers dragging against Zane’s neck as he stepped away.
“Come on, Ty, this isn’t city cop salary stuff. This isn’t even saving every dime he made in the Marines and eating Ramen noodles every meal.”
“It’s his home, it’s where he lives. You ever asked yourself how I afford a historic row house in the middle of Fell’s Point?”
“Not really,” Zane said with a frown. “I always figured you were just really adept at not spending money.”“Jesus, Zane,” Ty said with a laugh.
“You never buy anything, you never have anything extravagant,” Zane continued, mumbling as he began to feel sort of stupid for never wondering about it. “How can you afford it?”
Ty shook his head, looking up as if he could see the deck above them. He met Zane’s eyes again before turning away. “I’m going to bed.”
“Ty, come on.”
Ty picked up the nearest pillow and chucked it at him. Zane caught it and threw it back. “You brought it up.”
“It was a payoff, all right? When they kicked us out of the Marines, they had to make sure we wouldn’t go crying to the press, so they paid us a lump sum and sent us on our way.”
Zane stared at him, not exactly shocked but close enough to it to gape. Ty closed his eyes and turned his head away.
“How much?” Zane whispered.
“Enough.”
“Why’d they do it? What’d you guys get into?”
Ty turned to meet his eyes, then gave a curt shake of his head. “That’s enough story time for one night. I’m going to bed.”
“THEY’VE completely dropped off the grid again,” Agent X said as he spoke to his superior.
“How is it possible that they keep evading you with two prisoners to keep under control?”
“I’m beginning to believe that Cross isn’t a prisoner, sir.”
“Excuse me?”
“I hesitate to conjecture, sir, but… I believe he thinks they’re trying to help him.”
“Why in God’s name would he think they’re trying to help him when all they want to do is deliver him to the man who wants him dead?”
“That I can’t say. But why, sir, would they attempt to deliver him at all if they merely want him dead? Why not kill him in Chicago?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it possible they don’t know what they’re doing?”
“Anything is possible, I suppose. We’ll try to take them alive.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hunting them down is becoming futile. I haven’t heard anything from the team we sent to Louisiana. But we knew that was a ruse.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come back to DC, we’ll sit on the Federal building. We know that’s where they’re going. I’ll send a team to Blake Nichols in Chicago. Perhaps we can find some clarity in all this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Agent X hung up the phone, looking at it in frustration. If Randall Jonas got his hands on Julian Cross, the last shred of evidence against him would be gone. Jonas was responsible for too many deaths. They couldn’t let these FBI assholes deliver Cross to his death too.
HOURS after crawling into bed with Ty, Zane still lay awake, staring at the stars through the windows, listening to the soothing sound of Ty’s breathing. Ty’s body was warm against his, something familiar in the midst of this absolute clusterfuck.
There was something incredibly romantic about where they were. The moon and stars were astounding out on the water, twinkling above them, unfettered by the lights of any city. He could hear the waves slapping against the hull, the creak of the boat as it bobbed at anchor. The gentle rocking under them would have been the perfect backdrop to curling up with his lover and making love all night long.
He shifted in bed, turning his head so he could look at Ty. He was trying not to think too hard about anything, but Ty was always at the forefront of his thoughts. Where the hell had the money come from? Why was Ty so uncomfortable with the subject? Was he telling the truth about the military paying them, or was that another classified cover? And then there was Nick.
When he’d first found Ty in the airport in Chicago, Ty had said he wanted to talk about a lot of things when they got home, to get everything in the open. Ever since, Zane had pondered what Ty could possibly have in mind. Obviously, Nick had been one of those things. He was angry and hurt, even though Ty hadn’t really done anything wrong but react to a kiss and then admit to liking it. He hated the bond Ty had with Nick, but he also hated to ask Ty to give it up.
A glass clinked from above, and Zane raised his head to listen. He heard another small sound, and he slid out from under the covers, trying not to disturb his partner as he clambered out of the oddly shaped bed. Ty usually woke at the drop of a hat unless he was truly exhausted. All the driving and running and fighting had used up everything Ty had in him. He didn’t even toss his head when Zane got out of bed.
Zane stood at the end of the bed and looked down at him, wondering about the panic that Ty had been feeling that night weeks ago when he’d left Zane asleep and bolted. Was there a force in nature that would make Zane walk away right now?
He shook his head, determined to let that stay in the past, and he grabbed his gun and headed up the stairs for the galley.
When he peered over the edge of the stair railing, he could see Nick standing in a weak pool of light coming from the sink. He cleared his throat to let Nick know he was there. Nick turned to look at him, glass in hand.
“Did I wake you?” he asked in a whisper.
Zane shook his head and climbed the rest of the steps, moving toward the little corner booth that was situated in the pilothouse. He set his gun on the tiny table and slid into a seat, turning to rest his elbow on the back so he could look into the galley. Nick had been really quiet, actually. Impressively so. Zane was just too attuned to noises in the night.
“Mind if I get a drink?” Zane asked, his voice hoarse and dry.
“What’s your pleasure?” Nick asked as he turned to the refrigerator behind him.
“Water, tea, coffee, doesn’t matter.”
Nick messed around in the refrigerator and finally pulled out a plastic bottle of water. He set the bottle and a glass of ice on the counter between them with a flourish and smirked. “Caffeine’ll keep you awake.”
“I’ll be awake anyway,” Zane answered, but he pulled the bottle and glass toward him. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Nick said with a nod. He picked up his own glass again and leaned his elbows on the countertop. “What’s keeping you up? Aside from the people trying to kill you.”
“I don’t sleep much. Even when people aren’t trying to kill me,” Zane said, smiling.
Nick was nodding, watching Zane, though he probably couldn’t make out much since the only light in the room didn’t reach the corner where he sat. Zane wondered what Nick might talk about, if asked, or if he might share something about Ty that Zane didn’t know. Ty was their common ground. It was just talk between new friends, right? Only this friend knew Ty was with Zane, and he’d had his tongue down Ty’s throat a few weeks ago.