Over the Top

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Over the Top Page 18

by Cindy Dees


  Spencer chuckled. “He’s comfortably ensconced in Chez Barn at the back of our property. He’s not going anywhere.”

  “What are you going to do to him?” Chas blurted.

  “Nothing for now. We’ll be putting him on a hook and dangling him for the rest of the Oshiro boys to come and get shortly. We still have a few things to arrange before we let them know where their guy is.”

  Chas frowned. “I don’t mean to tell you guys how to do your job, but should we be luring the bad guys there when Poppy’s just across the street?”

  Spencer grinned. “If you were the bad guys, would you look for her there? It’s the last place anyone will think we stashed her. Plus, we’re very close if we need to get to her to protect her.”

  Chas frowned doubtfully.

  “Will the Oshiros come for their guy?” Gunner asked.

  “Don’t know,” Drago answered. “It’ll depend on who he knows and how much they value whatever criminal activities he’s engaging in here in the States. If he’s a low-level thug, maybe not. If he’s a little higher up the chain of command, I expect they will want him back.”

  “If nothing else, it’s lousy for morale not to recover your guy. I think the odds are better than not that they’ll come after him. Particularly if we dangle Poppy in front of them too,” Spencer added.

  “You wouldn’t!” Chas exclaimed.

  “Not the real Poppy, of course,” Spencer said quickly.

  Gunner noted how protective Chas had sounded. He’d gotten pretty attached to the munchkin. Unfortunately, he knew the feeling. The little cutie was irresistible. Made a guy think about rug rats of his own someday.

  “What do you want us to do in the meantime?” he asked.

  “Stick to the plan,” Spencer replied. “Keep playing hide-and-seek with whatever Oshiro guys are following you while we try to figure out which faction is chasing you and how to draw out both factions at the same time.”

  Gunner concurred. Aloud he asked, “How’s Poppy?”

  “She’s great. Cute as a button,” Spencer replied.

  “Is she making noise? Baby babbling or crying?” Chas asked anxiously. “When she’s afraid she goes completely silent. Is she safe? You’re sure these Oshiro guys can’t get to her?”

  Drago answered more gently than Gunner would have guessed the guy was capable of. “She’s babbling up a storm. The gal from the agency who’s watching her speaks some Japanese, and Poppy seems to be responding very well to that. As for her safety, we’ve got that place protected like Fort Knox. Spencer and I have called in a few favors, and some of our friends are supplementing the already formidable security team at the estate.”

  “Why don’t you guys start swinging back around toward this side of the country over the next few days,” Spencer suggested. “If this comes to a fight, I’d rather do it on my home turf.”

  “But we’ll be leading reinforcements back to possibly even more Oshiros!” Chas protested.

  “I swear to you, Chas. We’ve got this under control,” Spencer responded. “With the team we’ve got in place around Poppy, she’s safer than any baby on the planet. I stand by our plan of taking out as many of these Oshiro dudes as we can before we hand her over to her father.”

  Gunner ended the call after that and watched pensively as Chas wandered into the bathroom, trailing his fingers in the hot tub’s bubbling water. The bottles of port arrived. Gunner signed for them and carried them into the bathroom, where Chas now sat in the tub, staring out the window.

  Gunner stripped silently and slid into the tub beside him. “You really love kids, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “You’re going to be a great parent.”

  Chas sighed. “I don’t know if it’ll ever work out.”

  “I learned in SEAL training that if you want something bad enough, you should refuse to give up on it until you get it.”

  “I’m no SEAL, Gunner. I’m just a slightly neurotic kindergarten teacher from a small town without much of a dating pool.”

  Gunner turned to stare at Chas. “Are you kidding me? You’re a great catch. And God knows you’re the most loyal friend I’ve ever had. Why you stuck with me for all these years, I’ll never know.”

  Chas glanced up at him. “You were a bit of an asshole there for a while.”

  “Still am, last time I checked. But I’m working on being better.”

  “When you’re not going all SEAL on me, you’re fine just the way you are,” Chas declared.

  If only. “I’m sorry about this morning,” he murmured.

  “What do you have to be sorry about? I’m the one who blurted out something stupid and awkward.”

  Gunner frowned. “I’m no great expert on relationship shit, but I hear that expressing your feelings is supposed to be a good thing.”

  Chas laughed. “Wow. Spoken like the most clueless man ever. You realize you just verified all the stereotypes about strong, silent males being emotionally unavailable, right?”

  “Like I said, I’m no expert at relationships.”

  “Or feelings, apparently.”

  “Or deep conversations.”

  “Or basic manners,” Chas added.

  “Hey, now. I know how to say please and thank you. And I call women ma’am.” He poured a glass of the deep burgundy port and held it out to Chas. “Here. Drink.”

  “A toast,” Chas murmured, waiting for Gunner to pour himself a glass.

  “What shall we toast?”

  “To Poppy being safe.”

  “Well, duh. Anything else you’d like to toast?” Gunner asked.

  “To old friends, new lovers, and hot sex.”

  Gunner grinned. “Hear, hear. And all the better when they come in a single package.”

  Chas sipped his port appreciatively. “Thanks for coming to Misty Falls to rescue me when I called. I was pretty sure Poppy and I were going to die.”

  “I’m glad you called me. It was lucky I was able to come right away to help you.” Gunner leaned back, savoring the jet of hot water pounding his muscles.

  “What will you do when you go back to work?” Chas asked.

  “Regarding what?”

  “Are you going to take up Spencer and Drago on the job offer?”

  “Undecided.”

  “Can I throw in a vote for going the history professor route?”

  “It’s a little late for that.”

  “It’s never too late to follow your dreams. And I’d rather see you in a job where you won’t be risking your life on a regular basis. You’re my guy, and I want to keep you safe.”

  “What? You’re going to protect me from any bad guys who show up?” Gunner asked humorously.

  “Anyone who wants to hurt you is gonna have to go through me.”

  Gunner froze. Repeated the words in his head. Absorbed them through every pore of his skin like the rare and precious blessing they were. Very few civilians in his life had ever had his back unconditionally. He’d been so busy protecting Chas and Poppy, he hadn’t really stopped to register the depth of grief and loss he felt at losing his SEAL family.

  He reached out and looped his arm over Chas’s shoulder, pulling him close against his side. Chas turned a little and laid his head on his shoulder.

  “I think I may love you too,” Gunner murmured.

  “I beg your pardon?” Chas squawked, jerking upright.

  “Jesus. You don’t have to act like I just told you I was going to kill the president.”

  “Say it again,” Chas demanded.

  “Aww, now you’re making it weird.”

  “Say it.”

  Gunner huffed. “I think I love you.” He waited expectantly for a moment and then grumbled, “Aren’t you supposed to say it back?”

  “You mean the way you did this morning?”

  “You’re such a jerk sometimes,” Gunner muttered.

  Chas’s beautiful eyes narrowed. “You let me know when you’re sure abou
t your feelings, and then we’ll see if I say it again… double jerk.”

  “You do realize I’m a SEAL. And I’m in water, my native environment. Are you sure you want to challenge me here and now?” he teased.

  Chas snorted. “As if you’d ever hurt me. You don’t have it in you.”

  The humor drained from Gunner’s chest. “No. I don’t. You mean too much to me.”

  “A bit of advice from the guy in this relationship who’s good at emotions? Be careful of making promises you can’t keep.”

  “I promise, Chas. I’ll never hurt you.”

  “That’s a broad statement. If you mean you’ll never lay a hand on me, that I can believe. You’re not the type to speak with your fists. Never have been. But emotional hurt is inevitable in all relationships. It’s the partners’ capacity to forgive that defines the relationships that will last.”

  “That’s some wise shit.”

  Chas rolled his eyes. “Drink your port. Clearly I need to get you a little drunk before we discuss your feelings any more.”

  “They warn SEALs about getting drunk and hopping into bed with frog hogs, you know.”

  Chas frowned up at him. “What in the world is a frog hog?”

  “Groupies in bars who hang out around SEAL bases looking to sleep with a SEAL.”

  “You know I’m not interested in you just because you’re a SEAL, right?”

  Gunner snorted. “Yeah. I got that memo a long time before I joined the teams.”

  “And you know I wasn’t trying to seduce you when I asked you to come rescue me, right?”

  Gunner’s arm tightened across Chas’s shoulders. “The thought never crossed my mind.”

  Chas tilted his head up and kissed Gunner’s jaw.

  He turned his head, tilted his chin down, and met Chas’s mouth with his own. Port on the tongue of his lover tasted amazing—spicy and pungent, with subtle notes of hot hillsides and bright sunshine.

  Chas turned, threw his leg across Gunner’s hips, and straddled his lap, which brought them eye to eye. “I’m right here, G. What are you going to do about me?”

  Gunner’s junk stirred as Chas’s crotch floated lightly against his, the bubbles swirled around his penis, and the combination of heat and strong wine went to his head a hell of a lot faster than he expected them to.

  “I do believe, Mr. Reed, that I’m going to make love to you in a hot tub, regardless of how cliché that might be. Then I’m taking you to bed, making love to you again, and spending the rest of the night holding you in my arms.”

  Chas smiled, his eyes and entire face brilliant with the joy and love for life that Gunner had never been able to get enough of. Chas had always been the light to his darkness, the laughter to his taciturn nature, the reminder to reach beyond his darkest depression.

  Their lovemaking was slow and intimate tonight. They stared into each other’s eyes as Chas’s body slipped down onto Gunner’s erection like a custom-made glove. The bubbles tickled Gunner’s balls, and the heat relaxed his entire body until all he could do was hold on to Chas’s waist and thrust up languidly for what seemed like forever.

  Eventually, however, Chas’s body became taut in his arms, his own back arched up and into his lover, and they finished together, sharing mutual groans of satisfaction against each other’s necks.

  Chas went limp, resting on Gunner’s shoulder, floating lightly in the water. They stayed like that until Gunner became aware of the pads of his fingers turning into prunes. He climbed out of the hot tub and lent Chas a hand to do the same. Then he led Chas over to the fireplace, where heat poured out, warming the whole room. He and Chas dried each other off using thick terry cloth towels.

  He finished with a quick towel-dry of his hair. Chas grabbed the half-consumed bottle of port and headed for the king-sized bed facing the picture windows. They propped up the pillows and passed the bottle back and forth, drinking it as they stared out at the night.

  “What’s that?” Chas asked, pointing.

  Gunner looked at the faint green shimmer in the sky. “That’s the northern lights.”

  “We don’t see them often in Misty Falls. There’s too much ambient light from the houses and streetlights.”

  “They’re incredible when you get up into the Arctic Circle. Remind me to take you on vacation up there sometime and show you.”

  Chas snuggled against his side without comment, but he seemed to like Gunner’s talk of a long-term relationship.

  Maybe it was the port talking, but he could envision spending a very long time with Chas. They… fit.

  Never in a million years had he seen this reunion coming, nor the direction it had taken. Things were moving fast, really fast, between them.

  Too fast, perhaps?

  Was it supposed to happen like this? A thunderbolt out of the past that knocked him completely on his ass? Was he being a fool for love? Was this no more than a hot sexual infatuation with his first real lover? How in the hell was he supposed to know?

  One thing he did know. He hated the unanswered questions rattling around in his head. And as sure as he was lying here, he had no idea what to do next with Chas. Hell, he barely had any idea what came next in his own life. How was he supposed to know what kind of life he could offer Chas… if any?

  Chas hated danger. Hated the unknown. No way would he want to sit at home waiting for Gunner to come home from dangerous assignments. Especially not now that he’d had a taste of what Gunner’s life in the field was like.

  Dammit. The very mission that had brought them together would be the thing that would push them apart. It figured. He never could catch a break when it came to his personal life. Never had. Never would.

  Chapter Seventeen

  FOR CHAS, the next few days passed in a blur of being sick of sitting in a car, staring at thousands of miles of pavement, and overall general exhaustion. After their romantic interlude at Yellowstone, Gunner had inexplicably shut down. He wasn’t laughing, wasn’t joking around and shooting the breeze. Hell, he was barely speaking to him.

  What had gone wrong? Chas had plenty of time to replay the evening while they drove across the country back toward the East Coast. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what he’d said or done to make Gunner withdraw so completely into his own personal emotional cave.

  One thing he did know: now was not the moment to spring his demand on Gunner that he find a safer job if they were going to have a long-term relationship with each other. That left him feeling grumpy and frustrated too, not in any mood to break through Gunner’s sullen silence.

  By the time they hit Virginia, he finally resolved that whatever was going on in Gunner’s head was the guy’s problem to solve—not his. He washed his hands of trying to show Gunner Vance how to be a normal human being and have a normal human relationship. The SEAL in him had won, apparently. Which sucked rocks.

  If a faction of the Oshiro gang was following them back across America, they saw no sign of the black SUVs nor of any armed men. Chas wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Gunner was tense, always watching everything and everyone around them. But Chas didn’t know if that was real concern or just habit. Either way, Gunner’s tension was contagious, and Chas was a nervous wreck by the time they finally pulled into the driveway of the old farmhouse late that night and were greeted by Spencer and Drago.

  Chas and Gunner fell into bed without talking much to their hosts. They’d been driving nearly around the clock, taking turns napping and only stopping for fuel, food, or pit stops.

  God, it felt good to stretch out on a comfortable bed that wasn’t vibrating or rumbling, without cranking his neck and back into unnatural angles not meant for human beings.

  Gunner groaned under his breath beside him. Chas felt Gunner move, pressing a hand against his right rib cage. He’d been doing that a lot recently.

  Chas murmured, “Any chance you cracked a rib in your parachuting accident?”

  “I’m thinking I cracked about four o
f them.”

  “Four?” Chas exclaimed, sitting up. “Why on earth didn’t you stop and get those checked out?”

  “Nothing to do for cracked ribs but let them heal.”

  “Can’t you bandage them or something?”

  “Elastic strapping helps make the pain bearable, but I still have to breathe, and every breath flexes them.”

  “Simple breathing hurts you? How long has that been going on?”

  “The docs gave me some sort of epidural painkillers in the hospital and said it would last a couple of weeks. It has been starting to wearing off for the past few days.”

  “And you never said anything before now?” Chas exclaimed, indignant.

  “It’s just a little pain. No big deal.”

  “Four broken ribs is no big deal?”

  “They’re only cracked. Actually my spine is the worst of it. I messed up some disks, apparently.”

  Chas flopped back down to the mattress, aghast. “And all that sex we had. Did that hurt you?”

  “Some. Although I was a little bit distracted from my pain.”

  Chas swore heartily. Enough to make Gunner chuckle, in fact, and to make him swear some more.

  “Language, Mr. Reed. Language.”

  He turned his back on Gunner in a huff.

  “Sleep while you can, Chas. Things could get exciting around here for the next few days.”

  “I have no desire to find out what constitutes ‘exciting’ in your world. Not after spending the past week with you.”

  “Aww, c’mon. The road trip was fun.”

  “Except for the part where we were chased, a guy died, and you took a freaking prisoner.”

  “You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet, kid.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “How about tomorrow we go visit Poppy? Would that make you feel better?”

  “You’re bribing me. And it’s totally working, you giant jerk.”

  “Sweet dreams, Chasten.”

  Chas huffed. “Same to you.” God, he hated it when Gunner managed him like this. But the guy had always known how to handle him like nobody else. In bed and out of it.

  GUNNER WOKE up a whole lot sorer than he was willing to admit. As for Chas, he was asleep on his stomach, his face mashed against the mattress, his jaw slack. The guy looked wiped out. The past week had been hard on both of them, but Chas wasn’t used to the fast pace and high stress of working in hostile environments.

 

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