by Elle Keaton
“Xena is more than welcome; she can hang out in the backyard and kitchen. Come in, please.”
When Joey reached the porch, Buck looked closely at him, closer than Joey would have liked. Putting his hand on Joey’s shoulder, Buck tipped Joey’s chin up so he could see Joey’s face. “What happened to your eye?” His voice was full of concern.
“Uh, would you believe I tripped and hit my nightstand this morning?” He pointed at Xena. “There’s the culprit.”
Buck continued to gaze at him searchingly, as if he thought there was something Joey wasn’t telling him. He tucked his hands into his pockets.
“Buck, dude, you’re letting all the cold air in! Were you born in a barn?” someone called out from behind him.
“Oh yeah, sorry. Come in, Joey. I think you know everybody, but let me take your coat and stuff, then I’ll introduce you and we can grab a drink.”
After handing over the bottle of champagne and chocolates he had picked up on his way over, Joey followed Buck down the short entryway toward his living room. Divesting himself of his coat at the hall closet left him feeling exposed, but it would be strange for him to wear his coat into the party. He hated that he felt so out of sorts. Like the gentleman he was, Buck gestured for Joey to go ahead of him into the main room.
Shock coursed through Joey’s veins when he spied the other guests. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, who he was seeing. He came to an abrupt stop. Buck’s hard body slammed up against his back, but he grabbed Joey before Joey stumbled forward, his strong hand coming around Joey’s chest and keeping him on his feet.
Holy cow. He couldn’t do this. Except Buck was still standing behind him, blocking the exit. How could Adam Klay be here? Joey had broken no less than three federal laws in as many days. He was sure he had broken others he wasn’t aware of, but no way was he going to do a Google search on “disposing of dead bodies: human.”
“I told you it was the perfect place to put mistletoe!” someone called out, likely Miguel who seemed to be a natural troublemaker. Oh, and there was Sara Schultz. Shit, shit, shit. He was so screwed.
As he turned to verify the existence of said mistletoe, a pair of soft lips came down on Joey’s, chasing all thoughts of escape out of his head. Wow, Buck could kiss. Joey went up on tiptoe to press his mouth more firmly against Buck’s. The moment ended all too quickly, with a quick extra peck on his cheek. Buck was adorably flushed, Joey tried to forget about why he shouldn’t be at a dinner party with Adam Klay or anyone he associated with.
Buck smiled shyly down at him. “I hope this is okay? I think you know most everyone here.” Buck quickly introduced him to Jon Buckley and Kevin Smith, the only two people Joey didn’t at least recognize. He balked internally when he spotted Sterling Bailey. They had been informal enemies since high school. Sterling had poached one of Joey’s boyfriends, and Joey had never fully gotten over the sting of betrayal. Which was stupid, because now Joey couldn’t remember the boyfriend’s name so, obviously, he hadn’t meant much.
The party was amazing and very low-key. Joey had thought he wanted to get drunk and forget everything. Instead he was chatting as if his life wasn’t falling into ruin, eating crab cakes and artichoke dip, and managing to relax. Whenever he turned around Buck was there, a hand on his shoulder or lower back, making certain he was okay. Joey felt cherished.
At some point Sterling dragged out a ridiculously inappropriate card game. Joey had played before with friends in Seattle, but it was different playing in a cozy house in Skagit snuggled next to the man you suddenly wanted something crazy with. A man who was endearingly innocent. When one of the guys had to explain to Buck what nipple blades were, then twerking, and finally what a sixty-nine was, Joey decided they were going to get married and he was going to protect Buck from the world. How did a man so handsome get to the age of twenty-six without knowing this stuff? Okay, he could understand the nipple blades; the first time he’d played the game he had to look that up on his phone. But twerking? Sixty-nine? Who didn’t know that?
He noticed the longer they played the game, the gigglier Kevin and Sterling became. They also kept looking down between themselves. This was either a weird sex thing or they were cheating.
“This game hardly has rules and you two are cheating?” Joey accused them, glaring at the two men who had burst into helpless laughter before piling a bunch of cards back onto the table.
“These are all the dumb cards! I swear.” Sterling tried to look innocent.
Joey grabbed the cards. “These are all the less offensive cards! No wonder this is even worse than usual—you two have been trying to…what were you trying to do?” It was hopeless. They were both beyond rescue, laughing themselves into tears. The rest of the guests chuckled while Joey demanded they stand up so he could make sure they weren’t hiding any more.
“You just want to ogle our asses.”
“As if!”
Buck looked so relieved that the game had ended, Joey was mad at himself for not recognizing their shenanigans earlier. How in the world could a man be so incredibly innocent? It hardly seemed possible in the age of the internet. But there he was, practically bigger than life, so handsome and kind that Joey wanted to pinch himself to make cure he wasn’t dreaming.
As the evening wound toward midnight and cheering in the new year, Joey found himself tucked into the corner of one of Buck’s couches with the big man right next to him. He didn’t think Buck could be any more perfect. They’d all asked about his eye, his Hollywood makeup job not covering as much as he’d hoped, but not pushed after he told his story of tripping over Xena. No one could make up a story like that. He didn’t think it was his imagination that they were all going out of their way to make him feel comfortable. Which was nice; normally Joey was the one doing that. He enjoyed being taken care of.
Buck got up to use the bathroom, leaving Joey alone for a few minutes to relish the safe cocoon he was wrapped in. The most entertaining couple of the evening was proving to be Buck’s roommate Miguel and Sara, owner of the Booking Room. Sara had no problem being the only woman at the party, and her laser interest was completely focused on Miguel. Miguel kind of looked like he’d been hit by a bus.
Sometime earlier she had changed the music from a New Year’s playlist—declaring it “pedestrian”—to a swing and big-band station. As the first strands of Doris Day’s version of “Sentimental Journey” came floating out of the speakers, she strolled over to Miguel and pulled him onto the small dance area they had cleared. No amount of protest from Miguel about his hand, lack of dancing skills, or anything else convinced her to release him. He had given in, as a gentleman should, and they had now been slowly dancing for three songs. Joey thought Miguel might have protested a bit too much.
“Dance with me?” Buck’s deep, quiet voice caught Joey by surprise, as focused as he had been on Sara and Miguel. Without waiting for his answer, Buck pulled him up and onto the dance floor. Joey had heard couples claim they fit together like puzzle pieces, but he had never experienced it until now. Regardless of Buck’s height and breadth, he and Joey fit together. Joey tucked perfectly into Buck’s shoulder, and Buck’s arms were long enough that he could place one hand on Joey’s hip and the other on his shoulder while they…well, not exactly danced, but more kind of rocked together on the dance floor. Joey had his arms slung around Buck’s shoulders and never wanted the dance to end.
Joe had no idea how long they danced like that, entwined and submerged in a private bubble. Alas, the spell was broken too soon. The music changed again to a local radio station doing a two-minute countdown, and he and Buck broke apart. Joey immediately missed the warmth of Buck’s body. Sterling poured champagne into little plastic cups and passed them to everyone for the midnight toast.
Two minutes later they all cheered and Joey was on the receiving end of a very enthusiastic, innocent New Year’s kiss from Buck. He wanted to sink into it and let everything go, ignore the shitstorm.
Before too
long the party guests began to make their goodbyes and file out the front door. Soon it was just Buck, Joey, Adam, and Micah. Miguel was walking Sara to her car; he’d shot Buck a panicked glare as he pulled the front door shut behind him. Joey’s nerves came flooding back as he recalled why he shouldn’t be in the same room with the federal agent or his boyfriend. Was the elephant in the room only visible to Joey?
Twenty-Four
It seemed the wooing had been working. Touching, kissing, having Joey’s body pressed against him was the stuff Buck’s fantasies were made of. Buck had no idea what he was doing or was going to happen now, what was too much or too little? He had given himself permission to act like he thought a boyfriend would; he had let himself touch and kiss Joey without second-guessing himself. Joey seemed to like it when Buck touched his lower back or neck. It was a possessive move, but Buck was going with it, and Joey’s shivered responses encouraged him. Buck was high on Joey’s scent, the feel of his skin, the glow of his smile.
Unfortunately, it seemed the chariot he had been riding in was about to turn back into a pumpkin. What a terrible metaphor; Buck hated pumpkin and he certainly wasn’t a princess. He kept his arm wrapped around Joey’s waist while he said goodbye to his other guests, sensing immediately when Joey tensed. Buck was afraid he might bolt out the front door with Kevin, Jon, or even Sterling. Although if he was any judge there was not a lot of love lost between Joey and Sterling, so Buck was probably safe there. Soon it was just four of them left: Adam, Micah, Joey, and himself. Joey went from human noodle to stiff as a board in seconds. Damn.
“I should get going, too,” Joey muttered.
Adam grinned at them, a knowing, wolfish look. “Micah and I are getting out of here; don’t let us hurry you.” Buck blushed. The heat in his cheeks felt like fire. He couldn’t look at Joey; if he did he might pass out from not being able to breathe. Crud. Crud. Crud.
Micah smacked Adam on the arm. “Be a little more sensitive. Aren’t you always threatening people with classes? Sheesh. G’nite, you guys; thanks for the invite.”
If Buck didn’t think Adam would clock him, he might have considered giving Micah a hug. Adam could be scary, though tonight, after a few beers and some champagne, he had loosened up a bit.
“G’nite,” Adam parroted, but he still had that knowing look on his face. Jerk.
“Uhhh.” Buck honestly hadn’t thought about anything beyond the party. Well, he might have thought a little bit, but hadn’t gotten farther than that. Never imagined that Joey and he might go farther than a kiss. Buck wanted that; he wanted more than a kiss. Suddenly he had a montage in his head of Joey with no clothes on, kissing him, maybe doing more. A little more air escaped his lungs, leaving him light-headed.
Joey seemed equally thumped. He stared at Adam and Micah, his beautiful mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Micah chuckled and pulled his boyfriend out the door, grabbing their coats from the front closet on the way.
Xena, who had been incredibly well-behaved during the party, probably because she had been plied with treats by every single attendee, popped up from behind the couch to come and lean against Joey, tail wagging, silently asking if they were going, too.
As Adam and Micah headed down the walk, Miguel was returning, rakishly disheveled and wearing a bemused expression. Buck didn’t have the heart to give the guy a hard time. Miguel gave them a distracted wave on his way upstairs.
Something told Buck that he could push Joey right now, just the slightest nudge and he would have a night of hot sex, the likes of which he had never imagined.
He also thought if he did, he might never see Joey again. That a quickie was maybe what Joey was used to—and that wasn’t what Buck wanted to be. He wasn’t built for a quickie. Buck wanted to prove he was boyfriend material. “Hey, how about I give you and Xena a ride home, make sure Sheila is running okay?” he suggested. “Then in the morning maybe I can pick you up for breakfast and we can talk about what you want to do about your car?” Plus, this way he could be certain Joey got home safely.
Joey looked down, seeming to seek Xena’s approval. “Yeah, that could be good. I do need to sort out my car. I guess it’s a good thing I have a few more days off. Okay.” He peered up at Buck, the last-minute lights hanging off the eaves making his hazel eyes glint and accentuating the curve of his cheek and lips.
Man, Buck had it bad.
Joey’s mom only lived about fifteen minutes from Buck’s house. By the time the three of them pulled to a stop in front of the stately Tudor Buck was a bundle of nerves all over again. Did he get out; did he walk Joey to his front door? This boyfriend stuff was complicated. Flipping a mental coin in his head, he popped open his car door and walked quickly around to get Joey’s door. Xena jumped out, too, and they all headed for the front porch.
“Thanks for coming tonight. I, uh, had a really great time.” Buck turned to look at Joey.
“I’m sorry I was late. I had a great time, too.” Was Joey acting shy? Buck couldn’t figure him out. One minute he was amazingly confident and the next he acted as if no one had ever treated him nicely. Buck knew he had made the right decision about tonight.
“So, tomorrow?” he asked, tugging Joey a little closer. He wasn’t leaving without another kiss.
“Yeah, tomorrow sounds like a great idea.” Joey glanced at his watch. “How about nine-ish?”
Buck traced Joey’s cheek with his thumb, tipping his chin up before he leaned down to kiss him goodnight. Kissing. Whoever would have thought that kissing would be such a turn-on for him? He reveled in Joey’s plump lips, the way he opened tentatively for Buck to taste him. The way the roof of his mouth felt under Buck’s tongue, the heat of his breath, the desperately sweet moans and gasps. As if he, too, couldn’t control the arc of attraction sparking between them. Buck meant the kiss to be a gentle exploration of Joey’s mouth, his cheeks soft under Buck’s fingers. He lost sense of time and place.
“Happy New Year!” A throaty woman’s voice cut through Buck’s haze. He and Joey jumped apart like guilty kids who’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“Oh my god, Mom! You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!”
“It’s not sneaking when I’m coming up my own walkway,” she replied, smiling as she approached them.
There was no denying the relationship. Joey was the spitting image of his mother. A lovely older woman, she and Joey were the same height and shared the same sparkling eyes and smattering of freckles across their noses and cheeks.
“Mom, what are you doing out? I mean, so late? I mean, why aren’t you in bed?” Joey stuttered. Wow, he was adorable when he was flustered.
“Don’t you want to introduce me to your friend?”
Buck could see Joey wanting to roll his eyes at his mother’s gentle request.
“Mom, this is Buck Swanfeldt. Buck, this is my mom, Maureen James.”
Buck stuck his hand out; instead, Maureen pulled him in for a quick hug.
“It’s always lovely to meet Joey’s friends. He was just talking about you the other day.”
Oh, had he?
“Well, I won’t keep you two. It’s way past my bedtime. Happy New Year. Will I see you in the morning so I can get an explanation about why you seem to have a black eye, Joey? You didn’t do that, did you, Buck?”
“Mom!” Joey was beet red. “Please, yes, Buck and I are going to get breakfast but I will see you after that, and no one but myself gave me this black eye. I tripped. Goodnight.” He practically shoved her toward the front door.
“It’s okay, Joey.” Buck smiled at him to reinforce the fact that he did think it was okay—he was grateful Joey’s mom cared enough to ask. How many times had he wished the same? How many times before he hit his growth spurt as a high-school senior, when he had still been a chubby kid from a family with a weird reputation, had he wished someone would show they cared; say something, anything, to help him understand why he felt like a specter in his own home. That t
hey saw him, saw the random bruises and scrapes that weren’t from gym or the sports team.
“I should go anyway. I’ll pick you up around nine, okay? And bring Xena, too. Maybe we can take her to a park or something.” With that, Buck leaned over to peck Joey on the cheek one more time and maybe to breathe in his scent just once more.
Back at his car, Buck watched as Joey and his mom entered the house, Xena close on their heels. The front door shut, but Buck didn’t leave until he saw the indoor lights turning on as they made their way to their bedrooms.
Buck passed a few other cars on his way home, the last dregs of revelers leaving private parties or bars after ringing in the new year. The fairy lights were still on outside his house, casting a warm glow across the yard and sidewalk. It would be easy for him to get used to having Joey around, having an excuse to dress up his house and maybe change a few other things he’d been thinking about. Joey was a precious spice that had him captivated, a distinct voice he could hear over all others. One he automatically turned toward.
He was kind of scaring himself.
Twenty-Five
Joey wasn’t sure how he’d managed to stay calm the entire evening. He was reasonably certain it had something to do with pheromones. When he was around Buck for more than about thirty seconds his focus was for shit. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, not after what had happened out at the farmhouse earlier in the day. Being forced to clean a body was bad enough; at least he’d experienced his fair share while working at St. Joe’s. Never before had he been involved in the illegal disposal of a human body.
That freaked him out. The two men had been very purposeful. Once Andre had the man’s body cleaned to his satisfaction, he had demanded that Sacha and Joey help him dispose of it. Joey got the impression that Sacha was not the one in charge, even though he had been Joey’s point of contact in this bizarre situation.
Sacha was frightening. There was no doubt in Joey’s mind that the guy was a ruthless criminal, probably a killer. He seemed to have a permanently grim expression etched on his face, thick dark brows pulled together in a permanent scowl that Joey had a private scale for, ranging from standard scowl to mega scowl. There were approximately five scowl types in between those two.