Slow Dating the Detective

by Sue Brown

  Keenan smiled, but it was tinged with bitterness. He knew all their hopes and dreams for him had died the second he crashed into the frame of the hospital bed. They loved him, but there was always a bit of pity too. He was aware of Nate studying him, but he said nothing.

  They reached the sports bar, and it was even noisier than Cowboys and Angels. Keenan’s head throbbed miserably as he followed Nate in. He would stay for one beer, just for politeness, then he was out of there.

  Nate stopped so suddenly Keenan would have walked into him if Nate hadn’t steadied him.

  “What’s wrong?” Keenan asked.

  “You look as pale as a ghost,” Nate said, his voice brusque. “Get out of here.”

  “What?” Keenan stared at him.

  “Do you need me to take you to the ER?”

  “I just need to take some Tylenol and go to bed,” Keenan admitted. “But I can stay for one beer.”

  “The hell you can. Watch it!” Nate glared at a middle-aged man with an impressive comb-over who tried to push past Keenan to get into the bar.

  Nate grabbed Keenan by the elbow and steered him back onto the sidewalk. As the door closed, the noise faded and Keenan rubbed his temples, wishing the pain would ease. He looked up to see Nate watching him. Keenan would have to remember Nate was just too damn observant.

  “You should have said something. Where do you live?” Nate asked, his tone gentle.

  “Near the park.” With the compensation from the assault, Keenan had managed to buy a tiny two-story house. It cost him every penny he had to keep it going, but it was worth every cent to have a home to go to every night. The alternative was living with his parents as he had after his accident, a situation which had quickly proved untenable for all of them.

  “Let’s go.”

  Nate didn’t let go of Keenan as he frog-marched him down the sidewalk. Keenan tried to dig his heels in, but Nate seemed to have no intention of stopping until he’d delivered Nate to his front door. “Nate, I’m fine. You don’t have to take me home. I’m not a lost kid.”

  “Quit complaining.” Nate seemed likely to say more, but his expression changed, and he stopped, dug out his phone, and looked at the screen. “Dammit.”

  “What’s wrong?” Keenan asked.

  “Work. Sorry, I’ve got to take this.” Nate connected the call. “Gordon. Yes. Where? On my way.” His demeanor changed as the call went on—his back straightened, his shoulders firmed, and his expression hardened.

  As Keenan listened, he realized Nate had been called back to work. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. Nate disconnected the call and looked at Keenan. “Okay, you get your way. Duty calls. I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Keenan assured him.

  “Go straight home.”

  Keenan bristled at his high-handed tone. “Yes, Dad.”

  Nate ignored him. “Do you need me to order a car?”

  “Just go,” Keenan snapped. “See you around.” It was an offhand comment, but to Keenan’s shock, Nate smirked at him.

  “Soon, I hope, Keenan Day.”

  He walked away, already making a phone call as Keenan stared after him. As he turned the corner, Nate glanced back to see Keenan still watching him. He raised a hand and vanished, leaving Keenan like an island in the middle of the sidewalk, streams of busy pedestrians parting around him like the sea.

  Someone knocked into his back, too intent on their phone to see where they were going. Another jolt of pain charged through his head. Keenan turned to say something, but the woman was half his height and already vanishing into the crowd. Dammit, his nose was bleeding again.

  Keenan couldn’t stand there forever, so he headed for home. Then he realized he and Nate still hadn’t exchanged phone numbers, although Nate had given the impression he would like them to hook up. There was one way Keenan could get Nate’s phone number. He could ask his sister. That would be like passing messages to the cute boy at school—not that that ever happened of course. Well, only once, and he had been the recipient. Keenan grinned as he thought of his first boyfriend. Billy had been very similar to Nate Gordon—tall, broad-shouldered even at fifteen, and with dark curls that tumbled around his face. It seemed Keenan had a type right off the bat. But asking Karen for Nate’s phone number? No way, no how.

  “No,” Keenan said out loud, and a man walking past him glared at him suspiciously.

  Much as he wanted to think about Nate, he also had another problem. He’d blown his chance of a job because of loyalty to his old employers. C&A Holdings had their fingers in a lot of pies. He couldn’t afford to turn down every job because he had a beef with the top dog.

  His mouth curved into a smile. Nate had come after him to make sure he was okay. That was unexpected. He remembered the anger in Nate’s voice when he realized Keenan had been hurt. Nate had been furious, and a bit possessive there. Nate liked Keenan. And Keenan liked Nate.

  He still wasn’t going to ask his sister for Nate’s phone number.

  Chapter 5

  AS KEENAN walked along the street toward his parents’ three-bedroom house in Canarsie for Sunday lunch, he muttered the same words he’d been saying since he woke up.

  “Do not ask Karen. Do not ask Karen.”

  Sunday lunch was a Day family tradition, and every sibling was expected to attend unless they were working or out of town. He rarely worked Sundays, so he always joined in with the family lunch. Today was no exception. He’d been dreading it for the last few days because he knew the subject of his employment would be a topic of conversation around the table.

  Since his sudden exit from Cowboys and Angels, he hadn’t heard from Dan. He’d spent hours signing up with recruitment firms and temp agencies, and there was talk of some work the following week but nothing definite. Maybe he ought to wait until his face healed.

  He also hadn’t heard from Nate. If Keenan wanted to hook up with Nate, he had only one option.

  Do not ask Karen.

  He’d never live it down.

  His sister joined them when she wasn’t working. He knew Karen would be there today with her husband, as would Sarah. Their other sister spent most weekends out of town if she wasn’t working. Ramon would be joining them too. His boyfriend was working, so he’d gotten an automatic lunch invitation. His sister’s partner was always a welcome addition to the lunch as Ramon was an expert at running interference with Keenan’s sisters. Ramon came from a large family too and had more than his fair share of squabbling siblings to deal with.

  “Do not ask Karen,” he said out loud.

  “Don’t ask me what?” Karen said behind him.

  Keenan nearly shed his skin on the spot. He didn’t shriek, but it was close. He glared at Karen as his heart pounded. “Nothing.”

  Karen caught sight of his face and pressed her lips together. He’d extracted a promise that she wouldn’t make a fuss every time she saw his black eyes, but he knew she was dying to say something. Instead she turned it into an insult. “You know what they say about talking to yourself.”

  Her husband Max, a whippet-thin, blond man with pale blue eyes, laughed at her. “You should know, sweetheart. You’re always talking to yourself.”

  She glared at him as he winked at Keenan, and Keenan grinned at him.

  “You’re supposed to be on my side,” she grumbled.

  “I’m always on your side,” Max assured her.

  “That’s what I tell all my wives,” Ramon said as he approached them. He was at least four inches shorter than Keenan, dressed in tight black jeans and a cranberry-colored shirt that complemented his dark skin. He used to be a bit of a horndog, but since he met Mikey, he was head over heels in love with his boyfriend, even if he did try to deny it. He could be a pain in the ass too, but they all liked him.

  “You haven’t got any wives,” Keenan pointed out.

  Ramon gave a huge bark of laughter. “I wonder why? Day is the nearest thing to my wife.”

&n
bsp; Karen jabbed him in the chest with her finger. She knew just where to do it so it hurt. “Watch it, mister, or you’ll be the one valeting the car for the next month.”

  “Ha! Like you’d let anyone near your car,” he scoffed.

  Despite her spluttering, Ramon had a valid point. Karen was known for being fanatical where her car was concerned. Heaven help anyone who dropped any trash within a ten-foot radius of her vehicle. Keenan had once left a candy wrapper, and for the next five years, he got a warning every time he set foot in her car.

  Keenan watched Karen laugh and joke with her husband and her partner. Surrounded by three people he knew very well, he felt out of place. It wasn’t a new feeling, but it was sudden and harsh. He didn’t belong there. Being single in a group of loved-up couples could be very lonely.

  “Keenan, are you okay?” Ramon asked.

  Keenan blinked to clear away the morbid thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He pasted a smile on his face. “Just thinking about all the trash I can find to deposit in the back of Karen’s car.”

  “Do it and die, baby brother.” Karen fixed him with her brown eyes, so like his own.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, sister dear?”

  Max sighed. “It’s going to be one of those meals.”

  Karen kissed his cheek. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Of course, you don’t.” Max frowned as he looked up. “Karen, is that Nate Gordon?”

  Keenan followed his gaze. Sure enough, Nate was getting out of his black sedan. “What’s he doing here?” It was only at the curious gaze Ramon shot him that he realized how accusing he sounded.

  “Gordon’s my plus one because Mikey is working today,” Ramon said.

  “Karen said Mikey had a job.”

  “Yeah. His first solo project.” Ramon beamed at him. His boyfriend was starting out in business for himself, remodeling houses. Keenan hadn’t met him yet, but he’d heard mixed things about Mikey Petrovski. He’d taken a while to step out of the closet, and a few people had gotten hurt along the way. As long as he didn’t hurt Ramon, Keenan would be friendly.

  “Are you transferring the precinct to Mom’s house?” Keenan forced himself not to watch Nate’s every step. The man could have stepped off the pages of GQ. He pressed all of Keenan’s buttons.

  “It was Mom’s idea,” Karen said. “She said he must be lonely here. I’ve asked him before, but this was the first time he said yes.”

  This was the first time? Did Nate know Keenan was coming?

  Nate reached them. He wore dark gray trousers and a pale blue dress shirt, open at the throat, and he carried a bottle of red wine and a spray of pale yellow and white carnations with baby’s breath, wrapped in yellow tissue paper. Keenan wanted to eat him up. “Hi.” It might have been a general greeting, but his eyes rested on Keenan.

  “Hey, Gordon,” Karen said.

  Nate rolled his eyes. “You’ve invited me to lunch, Karen. Call me Nate.”

  She nodded. “Nate. You’ve met Max. This is my little brother, Keenan.”

  Keenan rolled his eyes. “Twin brother. Twin.”

  “Younger is younger,” she insisted.

  “They’ve already met,” Ramon said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Twice.”

  Karen looked between them and narrowed her eyes at Keenan. “You have? You didn’t think to share that piece of news?”

  “It’s been a busy time,” Keenan murmured.

  “Are we going in or eating out here?” Max asked, to Keenan’s enormous relief. “Good to see you again, Nate.”

  Nate shifted the flowers and drink to one hand and shook Max’s. Then he turned to Keenan. “You’re looking better.”

  Keenan gave him a skeptical look. The bruising had come out, and his eyes were black and purple. “You’ve got a strange idea of ‘better.’”

  “Maybe.” The look in Nate’s eyes seemed genuine enough.

  They followed Karen, Max, and Ramon through the gate and up the steps to the front door. Keenan was very aware of Nate’s proprietary hand on Keenan’s lower back. The warmth of his palm bled through Keenan’s shirt to his skin.

  Inside the house, Julia Day, dressed in a lavender summer dress, greeted them and kissed Karen and Keenan. She gasped when she saw Keenan’s face, although he’d already sent her a photo to warn her. She fussed over him anyway, although Nate assured her Keenan was fine. Keenan furrowed his brow, even if it was painful. How did Nate know he was fine?

  Then Julia turned her attention to Nate. She cooed over the flowers and wine, hooked her arm into Nate’s, and led him through to the galley kitchen at the back so she could put the flowers in water… and interrogate him.

  “You have to give him credit for the cool points,” Ramon murmured into Keenan’s ear. “The rest of us looked like rabbits trapped in headlights when Julia met us for the first time.”

  Keenan knew Ramon adored his mom, so he wasn’t offended, and he’d seen that look on the faces of new guests. “Are you jealous?”

  “She’s my second mom. Ah well, I can hand him over for the day.” Ramon hung up his jacket in the closet. “I also think I’ve lost my plus one.”

  “You mean now Mom’s adopted him?”

  “I mean how the new guy can’t keep his eyes and hands off you. And you look like you want to swoon every time he glances your way.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Keenan spluttered, but he knew he was going red. “He’s just being friendly.”

  “Uh-huh.” Ramon managed to infuse a wealth of meaning into two syllables. “I didn’t notice him putting his arm around Karen or me.”

  “You work with him. That would be sexual harassment,” Keenan pointed out.

  Ramon rolled his eyes again, and Keenan gave him a shove.

  “Keenan, leave Ramon alone,” Julia scolded from the kitchen, breaking off her conversation with Nate.

  Keenan threw his hands up and went into the kitchen, and Ramon followed with a loud snicker.

  Nate raised an eyebrow at him as Keenan joined him. “Should I ask?”

  “Please don’t. Ramon’s like the brother I never wanted.” He raised his voice so Ramon could hear him, knowing that Ramon couldn’t flip him off in front of his mother.

  Nate chuckled in his ear, and his warm breath made Keenan shiver. “He comes here a lot?”

  “Less since he started going out with Mikey, but yeah, he’s that annoying piece of toilet paper on your shoe that you can’t shake off,” Keenan said. Ramon made a face at him behind Julia’s back. “See what I mean?”

  “I work with him, remember?”

  Then Sarah and her family arrived, and Keenan introduced Nate to his Pops, Sarah, Alan, and their kids. Pops shook Nate’s hand while Sarah grabbed Keenan by the chin and examined his face until he shoved her off. His three-year-old nephew thought he looked like a gangster, and his little eighteen-month-old niece burst into tears, not recognizing her Uncle Kee Kee until he spoke to her and tickled her tummy. It was loud, comfortable, and normal. For some reason, Nate was right at home by his side. He could remember some of his friends from small families folding under the weight of so many people in Keenan’s home. Nate had a large family too, which was probably why he fit in.

  When it was time for dinner, Pops shepherded them from the kitchen and they took their seats at the table in the main room. Once two small rooms, his parents had knocked it into one room as the family expanded, and now it was a light, airy space decorated in pale yellow and cream—much like the flowers Nate had brought, which now sat on the piano at one end of the room. Huh. Keenan wondered if Nate had asked Karen what colors to bring.

  Somehow Keenan found himself next to Nate when they sat down. The table was full, and he was pressed up against Nate, their thighs tight together. It felt good to be so close to him, and neither of them made any effort to put space between them.

  Nate seemed relaxed enough, chatting to Max on one side and then turning to Keenan on the other. He looked a
t his plate, piled high with meat and potatoes and vegetables, and then at Keenan’s. “I’m not going to need to eat for a week.”

  Keenan grimaced. “I spend every Sunday promising myself I’m going to run it off. Mom’s cooking is the best.”

  He glanced at his mom at the other end of the table. She smiled at him, although he could see the speculative look in her eyes when she glanced at Nate. At some point she would give him the third degree over his relationship with Detective Nate Gordon.

  “You go running?” Nate asked.

  “I can’t afford the gym, so I run.”

  Also, his hatred came from the hours he put in at the gym as rehab after the assault, but Nate didn’t need to know that.

  Nate dug into his plate. “I hate the gym,” he said. Then he stuffed his mouth full of potato.

  “Me too,” Keenan agreed. “What do you do for exercise?”

  “Back home I used to ride. My parents have horses.”

  Keenan studied him and caught the note of sadness in his expression. “You miss home.”

  Nate gave a wry smile. “More than I thought I would. I thought coming to the city would open new possibilities and get me away from some of the… issues back home.”

  By issues, Keenan guessed he meant the old boyfriend. “It didn’t do that?”

  “It did, but I miss the open spaces and chance to think. I’m a country boy at heart.”

  Keenan had a sudden vision of Nate galloping on the back of a horse, wearing Wranglers, a plaid shirt rolled up to the elbows, and a Stetson on his head. It was oddly appealing. Keenan was most definitely a city boy, but the idea of Nate dressed like that sent a “hell yes” to his dick. Dear God, he was getting an erection at his parents’ table. He needed to distract himself.

  “Do you ever get home?” he asked.

  “Once. I haven’t been here long, and I work most weekends.”

  “But not today.”

  Nate gave him an oddly sweet smile. “Not today.”

  Max distracted him, and Keenan concentrated on eating for a while. The conversation around the table had died down as people ate. Then his mom called down the length of the table and asked the question Keenan had been dreading.