by May Archer
“What now?” Cam asked. His head was spinning and his voice was thin. He was barely hanging on.
“Now I land,” Damon said. “I’ve got this, Cam. Just pull down the jump seat and strap yourself in.”
“What about him?” Cam said, indicating the body on the floor.
Cain swiveled his head and caught Cam’s eye. “Leave him. I hope his balls are whacked all the way up to his tonsils when we touch down.”
Cam nodded. He unfolded the seat Damon had indicated and strapped himself in, closing his eyes as he felt the plane begin to descend. He thought about Cort and Sebastian, then about his parents, and he sent a prayer out to nobody in particular.
If we make it, if we land safely, I will never hesitate again, he promised. I will celebrate every single day. I will hug Sebastian, and maybe even Drew. I’ll volunteer again. I will make sure Emmett Shaw gets what’s coming to him. I will not be a martyr anymore. I will make Cort tell me he loves me, even if he tries to be a stubborn idiot, because no matter how it started, loving him is the truest thing I know.
“Brace yourselves,” Damon said as the plane slipped slowly down from the sky.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Where is he?” Cort demanded.
Sebastian, jogging into the airport from the blazing-hot tarmac alongside him, shook his head. “I don’t see any of them.”
The airport on this small island was a tiny building, hardly more than a rain shelter, and today, the place was packed with law enforcement personnel - local police, international investigators, and even a few people wearing FBI jackets who were here in an ‘unofficial’ capacity.
“If it hadn’t taken so long to get here…” Cort fumed, running a hand through his hair.
Sebastian glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Hardly my fault, Kendrick, that almost every plane in the hangar was damaged by the wash from Shaw’s engine.”
“What good are your billions if you can’t get us a plane in less than five hours?” Cort scoffed. “People from the States are here already.”
As it was, they’d had to co-opt another pilot staying on the island to fly them over in his tiny prop-plane, only big enough for two passengers. Cort had never been particularly frightened of air travel, and even he’d had to fight the urge to puke.
“You could’ve stuck with Senator Shaw and Lucy,” Sebastian said, a hard edge to his voice.
Cort noticed he’d immediately dropped the Uncle, and winced. As hard as this day had been for him, it had to have been even harder for Sebastian, knowing someone he’d trusted had betrayed him so acutely.
“Yeah, no thank you,” Cort said. “Fortunately, the yacht will take another few hours to get here.”
Once Bas had relayed the message that Jack had taken off with Cain, Cam, and Damon as hostages, Shaw had been beside himself. As soon as Drew informed him his plane had touched down on St. Michel, Shaw had insisted on taking one of the yachts docked on St. Brigitte and traveling to St. Michel by boat, rather than waiting for a plane as Cort and Bas had. It turned out not to have been a wise decision.
Cort turned in a wide circle, searching for Cam, when a hand reached out to clasp him on the shoulder.
“Cort,” Sean Cook said, and Cort caught him up in a hug.
“Thank you so much for getting here,” he told his former boss.
Sean pounded him on the back, obviously taken aback. “Kid, I’m just glad you called me,” he said. “Derrick and Nat are so pissed I didn’t let them come, but there was no time.”
“You kept things on the QT?” Cort asked, already knowing the answer but wanting it confirmed.
“Yeah. I haven’t said anything about the senator possibly being involved.” Sean blew out a breath. “Good luck to you with proving that.” He glanced at Bas, and Cort belatedly introduced them.
“Well, we apprehended the guy who arranged the incident,” Cort reminded him, as Sean and Bas shook hands. “But Senator Shaw’s not much of a flight risk. I don’t think you need to take him into custody until we get our guy to turn him in.”
“Jack Peabody?” Sean’s head tilted to the side and he looked at Cort appraisingly. “I dunno if it’s gonna be as straightforward as you think. He’s clammed up. Not a word since we got here. Locals were already on the ground waiting for them when they landed, brought him out on a stretcher because he was knocked out cold, apparently by your boyfriend.” Sean didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “I like him, by the way.”
Bas rolled his eyes, but Cort didn’t give a shit what Sebastian thought. As long as Cam would have him, that’s where he’d be. Speaking of which… “Where is Cam?” he asked Sean.
“Outside. Come on, I’ll show you.” He walked them to the front of the small building, pointing to a closed door as they passed. “That’s the manager’s office, where we’re keeping Peabody for now. He woke up pretty quick after they got him inside. No lasting damage. But now he’s looking for an attorney. Not a big surprise, but don’t start thinking you’ve got an easy case,” Sean warned.
“Yeah, but from what Damon said when he called from the plane…”
Sean stopped still. “Who?” he demanded. “Sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name. Certainly no one who was on the plane. Both Cain Shaw and Camden Seaver have stated for the record it was only the pair of them, along with Jack. And… anyone else… was already gone by the time I got here.” He smiled at Cort. “Apparently he said to tell you he’d call. Soon.”
Sebastian’s head went back, a small smile lifting his lips. “Well done,” he said.
“Incredible,” Cort corrected, shaking his head in gratitude.
“Incredible? I’ll take it as a compliment from the guy who carried a thumb drive of hardcore porn in his pocket, just when he knew Porter was gonna go looking for it.” He rolled his eyes, and Cort felt a flush spread across his cheeks.
In retrospect, perhaps not his wisest choice. “You, ah… figured it out?”
“Told you before, Cortland. You don’t have any tricks I don’t know about. Cam Seaver and Cain Shaw plan to say Jack flew the plane in, and they clocked him after they’d landed, when he attempted to kill them.” Sean gave them a quick wink. “Just FYI. And between their testimony and the interview footage from after the accident, I think they’re going to have a solid case against the guy without involving your brother at all unless he wants to come forward.”
“Thank you,” Cort told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I’m really glad I called you.”
“Don’t thank me, kiddo,” Sean said, shaking his head. “I’m fucking glad you realized you should call. Like something I said finally penetrated that hard head of yours.”
Cort smiled. Someone had gotten through to him, alright, but it had nothing to do with Sean’s words.
They resumed walking until they got to the front entrance of the airport. Outside, the setting sun reflected off the windows of a few cars, and tall palm trees swayed in the hot breeze. Off to one side, there was a small seating area and a picnic table with benches on either side. Cain Shaw was curled up awkwardly on one of the wooden chairs, his weight on one side. When he saw the men appear in the doorway, he stood up slowly and began walking towards them, clearly hurt.
Cam sat on the far side of the picnic table, facing away from them. He was hunched over, elbows-on-knees, staring into the distance. He was so real and so alive, Cort had to stop himself from jogging over and wrapping him up in a hug.
You’re gonna have to do some convincing, he reminded himself. But it would be worth it.
He put a restraining hand on Sebastian’s arm. “Hey, can I?” he said, nodding at Cam.
Bas looked at Cort grimly. Cort bristled as he prepared for some sort of threat or warning which, frankly, the guy didn’t deserve to be handing out. But Bas surprised him. “Hold him tight,” was all he said. He looked over at his brother sadly, then clapped Cort on the shoulder. “And don’t fuck up.”
He turned and walked back into the
airport.
Cort took a deep breath, walked toward Cam, his feet moving faster and faster, until he was full-out running. Cam turned as soon as he heard someone approaching, and stood with a bright smile on his face as Cort crashed into him, throwing his arms around his man and picking him up off the ground.
“Hey,” Cam said.
“I was so fucking scared.” Cort spoke the words into Cam’s thick hair. It wasn’t what he’d intended to say, but then nothing seemed to go according to plan when he was with Cam. He’d learn to just enjoy the ride. “And I love you,” he blurted out. “Not… not because I was scared, okay? Just… I should have said it before. I knew it yesterday… hell, I probably knew it last week, and I was just too afraid to tell you.”
He set Cam back on his feet and pulled away slightly so he could see his face - the liquid blue eyes, the constellation of freckles, the blush Cort loved to put on his cheeks. “I know this has all been my fault Cam. It was my fault you weren’t standing beside me in the hangar. Hell, my fault you were on the fucking island in the first place. I lied to you, and took the easy way out.”
Cam shook his head and Cort panicked. Be more convincing, Cortland.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, I know this is deja vu, me convincing you to give me another chance. What am I on now, my fourth? My fifth?” He winced. “And it’s not like I can say this is gonna be the last chance I need, either. I mean, I’m probably gonna need six more before we get back to Boston. But I learn from my mistakes, Cam.” He swallowed. “I just need you to trust me.”
“You called the FBI,” Cam said, when Cort finally gave him a chance to speak.
Cort frowned. Oookay. Not quite the return declaration he’d been hoping for. He let his hands drop from Cam’s waist.
“Yeah, of course. I called Sean Cook,” he said, hooking a thumb towards the building. “The second you guys took off. I was scared to death. I had no idea what else to do.”
“No, Cort,” Cam said, his own arms still wrapped around Cort’s neck. “You called the FBI. You called your team to come and save us, even though you knew it might get Damon in trouble.” He grinned. “I’d already figured out you loved me. I promised myself if we landed safely, I would tie you up and force you to tell me.”
Cort’s chin went back. “Is that so?”
“Yup. Maybe I still will.” His gaze was teasing, and Cort became lost in it. “But when we landed and the authorities were here, that’s when I knew. There was no way you’d risk Damon unless… unless you already realized you loved me, too.”
Cort shook his head. “I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I love Damon, but you… you’ve become everything somehow. It’s crazy, huh?”
Cam’s smile was bright as the sun. “Yeah. Totally illogical. But this really smart guy once told me, the most illogical things are sometimes the truest.”
Cort leaned forward and gently took Cam’s mouth with his, nibbling at the gorgeous lower lip that had fascinated him from the very beginning. “We’ll see who ties up who, badass,” he warned Cam. And then he leaned forward and claimed the laughing mouth with his own - slow and easy and forever.
Epilogue
“Marcus, how about you fill us in on the modifications for the…” Sebastian’s voice carried across the table as he spoke to the manager of a Seaver Tech research division in Spokane whose face was plastered on a giant wall-mounted flat-screen, but Cam could barely force himself to listen. Despite the bright sunlight flooding the conference room through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, and the extra-large coffee on the table in front of him, Cam was tired. On the other side of the thick, glass-block privacy walls which cocooned the conference room from the rest of the office, no doubt the employees of Seaver Tech were moving around, hurrying to finish their work before they could leave for the weekend. Cam was just a tiny bit jealous. He wondered for the twenty-seventh time why Bas always scheduled these meetings on Friday mornings.
Not that having Sebastian at the helm again was in any way a bad thing. In fact, it was one major silver lining to all the shit that had had gone down on St. Brigitte and the even bigger mess they’d found when they returned. Emmett Shaw’s betrayal and the ramifications of it were things Cam and Sebastian would struggle with for a long time, but it helped to know Sebastian was back among the living, no longer swamped under the weight of his own grief, and he and Drew were closer than ever.
Cam’s cell phone buzzed almost imperceptibly, and he withdrew it from his pocket.
[Cort:] I feel like we need a vacation.
Cam rolled his eyes as he read the message, but couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at his lips. He glanced across the table to find his boyfriend, the newly appointed head of Seaver Tech’s new Internal Security Division, waggling his eyebrows meaningfully.
Kendrick Cortland was completely incorrigible, and unconditionally his. He typed his reply quickly, knowing exactly how to provoke his man.
[Cam:] You do realize we’re in the middle of a board meeting?
[Cort:] Think you mean a bored meeting. Ha!
Cam stifled a smirk – the dad humor was terrible - just as another text buzzed through.
[Cort:] FYI, Margaret agrees. We need a vacation.
[Cam:] Margaret? My assistant? You chatted with her about this?
[Cort:] Yup. We talked. Last night while I was waiting for you. She’s very concerned about your stress levels. You’re not getting any younger you know.
No surprise there. Of course Margaret had agreed with whatever scheme Cort concocted; she’d been Cort’s BFF since pretty much day one. She told Cam she loved the way Cort had lightened his heart… which was such a sweet and accurate way of putting it, Cam couldn’t be mad even when she conspired with Cort behind his back. His heart was lighter these days. And fuller, too.
[Cam:] I am twenty-six, Kenny.
[Cort:] And apparently too senile to remember my name, brat.
Cam pushed his lips together, fighting the pulse of heat rising from his belly. With Cort, arousal was a steady current always running just beneath his skin.
[Cam:] Shhh. I need to pay attention to the meeting.
[Cort:] Bullshit. You’re not paying attention. You’re probably thinking about last night.
The annoying man was not wrong, but Cam would be damned if he’d admit it. He put his phone facedown on the table and pretended to watch Marcus talk about… something… from the flat-screen on the wall, but in reality, Cam was definitely thinking about last night.
It had started out with a stupid bet, the kind that had become a daily occurrence in their relationship. Cam hadn’t known quite how competitive he was until Cort started turning every thrown wad of paper into a game of basketball, and every glass of wine into a round of Never Have I Ever. He also hadn’t known it was possible to laugh as much as he did with his rule-skirting boyfriend.
Sadly for Cort, who was arguably even more competitive than Cam, his League of Legends game had never quite picked up, probably because he insisted on playing with Cam sitting beside him, leaning against his arm, massaging his shoulders and… other things. Cort’s matches invariably involved him being killed early on, while people on chat swore ripely and suggested anatomically-impossible moves in angry Russian. Six months after his first game, he was still unranked… but it didn’t seem to dull his enthusiasm for “practicing.”
Last night, however, Cort had suggested Cam demonstrate his own skills, while Cort took careful notes. Cam hadn’t been particularly enthusiastic. Only a month ago, he and Cort had bought a townhouse of their own, and they were still in the process of moving in. Between painting the rooms - and the laughter-filled competitions required to determine the colors each room would be painted - moving furniture around until Cort lost his temper then decided leaving the whole lot in the middle of the room would be a great way to start conversations, and the emotional rollercoaster ride of unboxing and hanging the family pictures Cam had taken from his parents’ house, h
e’d already been tired, but Cort had insisted. If Cam could finish a match before Cort got him off, he’d win the forfeit of his choice. Otherwise, Cort would have to settle for an IOU.
It had been too tempting to resist.
Besides which, Cam knew that he’d been able to complete matches in less than twenty minutes - sometimes less than fifteen. Tired as he was, distracted as he was, he was confident he could hold out. Cam had already decided he would hold onto that IOU because there was something special in the works for their first Valentine’s Day together.
“Fine,” he’d told Cort. “Let’s do this.”
But of course, Cort hadn’t been able to resist stacking the tables against him. Within the first minute of the game, Cort had been naked and hard, and he’d stripped off Cam’s clothes, too, in record time.
Cort had started off with a slow, sensual massage that had completely killed every one of Cam’s defenses, then he’d crawled beneath Cam’s desk, like a fantasy come to life, and used that extremely-skilled mouth of his to make Cam scream before five minutes had even passed.
It had been the hardest, most satisfying orgasm Cam had enjoyed in weeks of very satisfying orgasms.
He’d also been utterly crushed in his match.
He shifted his legs beneath the table now, just remembering the sensation of Cort’s mouth on him. His phone buzzed again, and Cam turned it over, desperate for distraction.
[Cort:] Imagine if I were kneeling in front of you right now, in the boardroom. I’d be under the table looking up at you…
[Cort:] My hands would be on your thighs, rubbing them. Can you feel it?