Cask Strength, page 6
“Is that all it was?”
“Yes, that’s all it was.” He leaned a hip against the end of the couch. “Why do you even care, if it’s over?”
“I don’t.”
Aidan grasped his elbows, hugging himself, trapping in the last vestiges of fleeting warmth. The ice in Jamie’s eyes, in his voice, chilled him to the bone. He should leave, right now, but he hadn’t come here to fight about Nic or rehash his idiotic decisions. He’d come here because he was concerned for his friend and partner. That’s what he needed to focus on. “Mel filled me in on the new case.”
Jamie moved to the far end of the couch, tucked one leg under him, and stretched an arm out across the cushion top. His calm apathy was forced as hell. “It’s fairly straightforward.”
Aidan’s laugh tasted as bitter as it sounded. “Don’t lie to me, Whiskey.”
“I can handle it.”
“You may have Cam fooled, Mel too, but you told me what it cost you to leave that life.”
Jamie braced a foot on the fire pit ledge, the absent bounce a dead giveaway of his buried apprehension. “Derrick’s at Bob Jones. Not Charlotte.”
“An hour and a half away.” Aidan sat, angled toward him. “And I’m not just talking about proximity to your ex. You’re out, Jamie, but you’ve not made a public declaration of it, which is perfectly fine and your prerogative, but the sports media is not exactly known for its discretion. They’ll latch on to your return, and if they find out...”
“Are you worried about me or you?”
“This has the potential to blow your life apart.”
His hardened eyes shifted to the fire. “Didn’t know you still care.”
Fuck it.
Sliding closer, a dagger pierced Aidan’s chest when Jamie tried and failed to move in the opposite direction, blocked by the sofa’s arm. Within reach, Aidan curled a hand around Jamie’s neck and leaned his forehead against his temple, breathing in the smell that had become his favorite in the world.
“Of course I care.” No matter what happened between them, Aidan would always care, would always be his friend, even if he couldn’t bring himself to be more. “You’re my partner, Jamie, and you’re a damn fine agent with a long career ahead of you. I don’t want to see that jeopardized because the media can’t stay out of your bedroom.”
“Maybe they won’t find out.”
“We talking pipe dreams here?”
Jamie smiled, small and resigned. “Seems to be my specialty lately.”
“If you don’t want to do this, I’ll tell Mel to find us another case.”
“No, it makes sense.” Straightening, he broke Aidan’s hold and resumed his lounged position, albeit more relaxed. “I know the game, and I can work the cyber angle. What about you? Mel didn’t give me the details.”
“I’m your sports agent.” He held out a hand and unfurled his full Irish accent. “Ian Daley, at your service.”
“Fuck.” Jamie ignored the offered hand and aimed his gaze back at the fire.
Aidan tried not to take it personally. “It’s close enough that if you slip up, anyone will think they misheard you.” When Jamie still didn’t respond, he worried the brief reprieve had vanished. “Jamie?”
He flinched. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“Would you prefer ‘Mr. Walker’?”
Jamie’s surprised laugh eased the tension.
“As your agent, it’d be odd for me to call you by your last name.”
“Anything else I need to know?”
“There’ll be a few more changes.” He grinned at Jamie’s curious side-eye. “You’ll see in Charlotte.”
“How do we infiltrate the team?”
“Without having met our local contacts or reviewed the file yet, I can’t say for sure. Initial thoughts... I’ll assess administration, you assess players, and we’ll come up with a suspect list. You stay clean and I’ll play the crooked agent, trying to get in on the action. Let’s not give the press added ammunition against you.”
At his mention of the press, tension crept back into Jamie’s frame.
Aidan laid a hand on his shoulder. “No matter what, you’re my partner, Jamie. I’ve got your back.”
“Can’t get used to that, you calling me ‘Jamie.’”
“You’ve heard it before.” The words were out before Aidan thought better of them.
Jamie’s eyes swung his way and they were no longer cold, his partner’s mind no doubt awash in the same intimate memories Aidan shared. Memories his body and heart wanted to relive, but that his mind cautioned against. He needed to shore up his defenses before being swept out to sea. “I’ve gotta go,” he said, standing. “Drinks with Scott.”
Jamie shot to his feet, the heat in his eyes morphing from desire to anger. “Christ, Talley. You’ll fuck anything with two legs and a dick, won’t you?” He stalked toward the house and Aidan grabbed him by the arm, spinning him back around.
He needed distance—he’d let Jamie continue to think he fucked other men, if that’s what pushed him away—but Aidan also needed him to understand not just any man would do. “You haven’t noticed a trend?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“My choice in men lately. Six foot plus, ripped bodies, light brown hair, bright blue eyes.” He gave his partner a significant once-over.
Wrenching his arm free, Jamie stumbled back. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand?”
“Why you want them when you can have me?”
Aidan closed the distance between them, hating the forlorn look on Jamie’s face. He caressed the lines away with his fingertips and Jamie’s eyes fluttered closed under his touch. “Because when I’m with them, I can fool myself into believing they’re you, but then I can walk away.”
Jamie nuzzled a palm. “I don’t need forever. I just don’t want to share.”
“It’s not that.” Aidan dropped his hands.
Jamie caught them in his big, warm ones. “Then what is it? Guilt over betraying Gabe’s memory? You’re allowed to move on.”
Looking into the fire, Aidan swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “At first, but not anymore.”
Jamie pulled him closer by the hands. “Then what is it?”
“God forbid something happen to them, but if it did, I could move on.” Aidan returned his gaze to Jamie’s and bared the burning hunger and blinding fear that held him back. “But not if it was you. I can’t let myself fall for you, because if I do, and something happens...”
“Baby,” Jamie whispered hoarsely.
It took everything Aidan had not to lean forward and kiss the painful sound away. Instead, he lifted their clasped hands to his chest, dipped his head, and kissed Jamie’s knuckles. “I survived the last time by the skin of my teeth, but there’s a hole in my chest where my world used to be. If I let you fill it, and I lose you too, I don’t think I’ll survive this time. I can’t do that to myself or my family.”
Jamie gripped his hands tighter and pressed chapped lips to his temple, his warm breath bathing Aidan’s face and soul. “I get you want to protect yourself and your family, but do you want to spend the next forty years of your life alone, jumping from one meaningless fuck to the next? You and Gabe were settled; you were happy. You like that life; it looks good on you.” He leaned back, withdrew one hand, and cradled Aidan’s face. “Do you really want to give that up forever?”
No, but that answer wasn’t fair to Jamie. Neither was so blatant a lie as yes, so Aidan settled for silence. Gazes locked, he allowed himself the indulgence of kissing Jamie’s palm, one last intimacy, then turned on his heel and left before he drowned.
Chapter Six
Knee bouncing, thumbs swiping over his clover cufflinks, Aidan fidgeted in the stylist’s chair, debating whether to have Cory cut his overlong hair. The long strands made it easier to separate and treat, but it was well beyond its normal length. There was no reason not to cut it. Except Jamie liked it long. He’d never said don’t cut it, but the way those deft fingers dove into his hair whenever they kissed, the way they clenched around the strands when he came, Jamie liked something to hold on to.
And Aidan liked the firm grip.
Missed it already.
“Earth to Ai.”
His brother’s raised voice and windmilling arms jerked Aidan out of his melancholy-laced thoughts.
“What’re you doing here?”
“Mel texted. Said you were getting back to your roots. Had to see and hear it for myself.”
“It’s fucking weird,” Cory said.
“What’s weird?”
Danny sank into the chair beside him. “The accent.”
“You’ve heard it every day of your life from Mom and Dad.”
“Yeah, but never on you, at least not that thick. Jamie’s gonna lose his shit.”
Aidan twisted toward him and Cory corrected with a tug. Aidan gritted his teeth against the flood of memories and resumed his wooden position, glaring at Danny via the mirror. “I’m his partner. His sports agent for this assignment. Nothing more.”
“Since when?” Danny asked, eyes narrowed.
“He couldn’t keep it casual.”
“Or you couldn’t keep it casual.”
“Are you and my boss keeping it casual?”
Mel and Danny had been in each other’s orbits for years. Danny flirted mercilessly; Mel always blew him off. Until Texas. By the time they’d left, more than mere flirting had transpired between his brother and sister-in-law.
Danny looked him right in the eye and answered, “No.”
Aidan clutched the armrests to keep from jerking in surprise. “Wait, what?”
“I’m not shopping for rings or anything, but I’m also not shopping for anyone else’s bed.”
“What happened to a ‘wee bit o’ fun’?” Aidan drew out the accent and Danny laughed, his sharp features transforming into a dopey smile.
“I am having fun, with her.” Danny eyed Cory. “All done?”
The stylist laid his tools on the vanity. “He needs to bake. I’m going to make a coffee run while you ladies gossip. Three lattes?”
“Make ’em ventis.” Danny pulled several bills from his wallet and handed the cash to Cory. Danny waited for him to exit before spinning Aidan’s chair to face him. “You’re not ready to commit again after losing Gabe. He was the love of your life. I’m not in your situation.”
Aidan swiped his thumbs over the cufflinks again. He missed his husband every day, but the pain of loss and sense of betrayal had faded. Looking at his changed appearance in the mirror, feeling a different sort of pain in his chest and his balls, both there because of his own fear and stupidity, Aidan wondered if he wasn’t now closer to Danny’s situation.
Aidan’s phone vibrated on the vanity.
“Speak of the devil.” Danny reached over him, grabbed the phone, and dropped it in Aidan’s lap.
Jamie’s face smiled up at him. They’d exchanged a few terse texts this morning about the case and his arrival Monday. Jamie was supposed to be visiting his family today, and Aidan had a bad feeling about why he’d be calling him. “Jamie, what’s going on?”
“Can you catch a red-eye out tonight?” His partner’s voice was tense, agitated.
Aidan straightened in his chair. “Of course. What’s happened?”
“The press conference got moved up, to tomorrow.”
Jamie was nervous about making his return statement, but he wouldn’t call him out early just for that. “What else?”
“Our week time frame to solve this case... It just became three.”
“Weeks?” Aidan asked, confused.
“No, days.”
* * *
Jamie checked Aidan’s flight status on his phone.
Landed, the app told him.
He checked the escalators and baggage claim.
Jam-packed with overnight travelers and morning commuters, but no Aidan.
He snagged a chair in an out-of-the-way row and waited, turning his phone end over end on his knee, anxiety ratcheting up with each passing minute. Yesterday, there’d been no question in his mind when he’d asked Aidan to fly out early. Their case timeline had been significantly compressed, and he hadn’t wanted to tackle today’s press conference alone. But as he waited for Aidan’s arrival, Jamie reconsidered whether they should have worked apart another day. He could have used it to rein himself in. He wanted to be the consummate agent who could separate their professional and personal relationships, but after Friday night, after learning Aidan wanted him but stayed away out of fear, the personal had dominated his mind, making him want to fight harder for Aidan.
But what if he won the battle, only to lose the war when Aidan learned of his betrayal? He’d never intended to move past casual until he told Aidan the truth about Gabe, and now Tom. He didn’t have all of the story yet—he had to be patient and calm—but he was closer. That was the other reason he’d called Aidan out early. He’d learned the identity of Mason West and wanted to deliver the news in person.
“I know our schedule’s fucked, but that face of yours is awfully grim.”
Startling at the full-blast Irish accent, Jamie’s head shot up and the phone slipped from his fingers, clattering to the ground. Pick it up, some instinct ordered, but he was too busy losing the rest of his fucking mind. The veneer of calm shattered and any hope of patience took a flying leap out the window.
Because standing in front of him was his stylishly dressed partner, a messenger bag over one shoulder, a coat tossed over the other, and silver-rimmed aviators nestled in waves of auburn hair. More times than he could count, Jamie had imagined Aidan with his natural hair color, and damn if the reality didn’t surpass each and every one of his fantasies.
Mouth dry, heart racing, cheeks burning, Jamie’s fingers twitched with the urge to weave through the long red strands. Reaching down instead, he grabbed his phone, held it between his palms, and wedged his clasped hands between his knees, forestalling his impulse. He tried to force out a “hello,” but his brain refused to cooperate, all the blood in his body having raced south where his jeans became painfully tight.
Fuck.
He was gone. So far gone. Past casual, past a crush, past simple attraction.
This was Aidan, sans disguises, and Jamie wanted him more than he’d ever wanted anything.
“Is it that bad a dye job?” Aidan asked, interrupting his mental breakdown.
“Ai—” he started, only to be corrected with a brogue-laced, “Ian.”
Jamie blinked, reminded that this was a disguise. It sure as hell didn’t feel like one. “I wasn’t expecting this.” His eyes raked over Aidan again, taking it all in. Dressed in jeans and a navy V-neck sweater, the dark blues set off his pale skin, the freckles, his autumn eyes, that hair...
“Fuck,” he muttered out loud.
Aidan shifted on his feet in front of him. “I said I was making a few more changes.”
“Yeah, but this—” he spread his arms wide, the motion totally inadequate “—is more than a fucking few.”
Their gazes locked, heat sparking. “Problem, Jamie?” Aidan’s eyes flickered down to the very obvious problem.
“You gotta stop that.”
He dropped his messenger bag and shrugged the coat off his shoulder. “Stop what?”
“Saying my name in that accent.”
“Mr. Walker, then,” he said with a smirk.
Way too smooth.
Jamie propped his elbows on this knees and covered his face with his hands. “God no,” he groaned. “Not that either.”
Aidan laughed as the buzzer went off on the conveyor behind them.
Leather smacked the backs of Jamie’s hands, and he snagged Aidan’s coat before it hit the ground.
Leather?
“Cover that up,” Aidan said, eyeing his crotch. “And get yourself together. Debrief in the car.” Turning, he headed for the spinning luggage carousel, giving Jamie a prime view of his sinfully fitted jeans.
Get himself together...
Yeah, right.
Chapter Seven
Hands at ten and two, shoulders locked, eyes forward, Jamie looked like a startled colt about to flee. Maybe he should have warned him about the makeover. But Aidan had wanted to surprise Jamie and get his unguarded reaction. And what a reaction it had been—muttered curses, flaming cheeks, tented jeans. The urge to tease was damn near impossible to resist, but Aidan wasn’t ready for where that might lead, and they had bigger problems than unrequited libidos.
“Tell me why we have three days instead of a week to solve this case?”
Jamie’s gaze slid sideways, over him again, and he blinked slowly, like he still wasn’t sure he’d retrieved the right person from baggage claim.
“Focus, Whiskey.”
He stared a moment longer then gave his head a hard shake, eyes squeezed shut. When they reopened, the haze had lifted. “I screwed up,” he mumbled, voice gruff.
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have surprised you.”
“Not that.” He waved a dismissive hand between them. “I found the illegal gambling site on the dark web.”
“The one the CU players are using to steal user identities?”
Jamie nodded. He cranked the car and steered them out of the parking garage and onto the freeway.
“I fail to see how that’s bad. I thought we needed an invite.”
“You actually read the file?”
“On the plane, until it put me to sleep. So you found their secret site on the secret internet. Where’d your hacker cockiness go astray?”
