by Jaime Reese
“What if we move on and forget it ever happened. As friends,” Bull added the last, extinguishing the spark of hope he had inadvertently awakened in the man.
Serg pursed his lips and nodded. “Is that a firm no?”
“It is. Just as it has been the last half dozen times I’ve said it. I’d appreciate it if you would respect that.” Bull leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms, putting some distance between them and shutting down the conversation.
Serg straightened and smiled. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Besides…” He reached out and tugged at a few random strands of Bull’s longer-than-usual hair. “You really do need a haircut. But I’m not cutting it all off. You’ve got great hair.”
He shifted in the chair as a vision of Ben flashed in his mind.
The distraction hadn’t gone unnoticed.
A slow smile curled Serg’s lips. “Were you thinking of me playing with your hair just now?”
“No,” he said slowly and clearly.
The corner of Serg’s mouth twitched upward. “I’ll trim it short but leave enough at the top for a good grip. Does that work?”
And there were Ben’s virtual fingers again, more confident this time…digging into his hair, pulling at the strands. Bull willed his sudden hard-on to lessen. “Yes,” he finally said, clearing his throat, his voice far hoarser than usual.
“I guess I do have a hard no after all.” Those watchful blue eyes assessed him. Funny how Bull could revel in one man’s stare yet cringe under another’s. A rush of heat flooded Bull’s cheeks as visions of Ben writhing beneath him filled his mind.
“I’ll get started on Rachel and leave you alone with that little movie playing in your head,” Serg said with a devilish grin as he twirled his index finger in the air. “Don’t worry. I’ll prettify you for your special Valentine.”
Bull cleared his throat and looked away. There was something about Ben that sparked an inferno in his body. The way those green eyes watched him, tracing every inch of him as if trying to memorize every detail for safekeeping. The way he bit his lip when he thought too hard or debated on how honest he should be. That hint of red that colored his cheeks got Bull every… Damn. Time. Everything about Ben ticked off another checkbox Bull had built in his mind over the years. Sure, Ben was sexy as hell with his lean muscles, and it was even more appealing that he didn’t have a clue about it. But it was Ben’s honesty, selflessness, and kindness that drew Bull in and kept him under a spell.
He didn’t have a clue where their relationship would lead, but he wouldn’t stop the what-if images cycling through his mind with endless possibilities.
Bull stared at his reflection. He reached up, tempted to run his fingers through his hair, a habit he needed to break now that his hair was shorter than it had been for the last few months. The sides and back were trimmed short, in line with his usual style. But the top was longer and swept to the side—not lengthy enough to hang low on his forehead, but enough to require the miracle of a hair dryer and product to keep his natural curl out and the style in place. Between the new cut and the close shave, he had to admit, he looked polished. Even though Serg had given him instructions and some hair crap to use that hadn’t itched, he likely wouldn’t be able to match this same look. He couldn’t resist showing it off before screwing it up. Grabbing his phone, he shot off a quick text before he second-guessed himself.
Busy?
Ben’s reply was immediate. Are you still working?
Yeah. Got a little break.
So you texted me? :)
He bit back a smile. Telling Ben how often he had come to mind likely wouldn’t be a good reply and might freak him out. Client is a longtime friend. She tricked me into getting a haircut.
I wanna see!
He was spared using his subpar selfie skills when his phone rang. He pressed the button, answering the video call. And there was Ben, staring back at him with a huge grin beaming across his face. Ben turned his head side to side and pointed to the screen, urging Bull to do the same. Bull faced one side and then the other, smiling as a bubble of dorky giddiness surfaced. It was silly as hell, but he didn’t care.
Ben fumbled with his phone, trying to sign while holding it. After a quick scowl, he held an index finger to the corner of his mouth and swept it out and up to the side of his face, his grin still steadily in place even though he was only able to half-sign smile.
The smile came naturally, even if Ben hadn’t asked for it. “You’re going to take a screenshot, aren’t you?”
Ben eagerly nodded. He played with his phone a few times, then gave a thumbs-up.
They stared at each other. It was surprisingly easy to get lost in that green gaze as a soothing peace settled in his chest. Ben broke the trance when he looked away for a moment. Seconds later, the text window within the video chat popped up.
It’s really straight. Is it stiff?
Bull’s gaze snapped to Ben’s. Had he read that wrong?
Ben tugged at his own hair.
“My hair?”
He schooled his features when Ben nodded.
Chill. Of course he meant your hair.
Ben ran his fingers through the fringe of hair on his face, pushing it away from his eyes. He nudged his chin toward the screen at Bull, urging Bull to do the same.
Bull reached up and slowly, but deliberately raked his hand through his surprisingly soft, styled hair. He closed his eyes and imagined Ben’s long thin fingers digging and twisting his fresh cut, fisting a handful of hair as he writhed under him. Bull’s dick hardened in an instant. Lazily, he opened his eyes, heat flooding his body when Ben sucked in his bottom lip and his nostrils flared.
“It’s the only thing soft right now,” he whispered, wondering if the need thick in his voice came through in the way he moved his lips as he spoke.
Ben stared, his chest subtly rising and falling with each breath.
The shower switched off in the neighboring room. Bull glanced over his shoulder, the sound of Rachel moving items around reminding him of his task. Returning his gaze to Ben’s image on his phone screen, he took a deep breath, begging his focus to return to work.
Ben looked away for a moment, the message window popping up again seconds later.
You need to go?
Bull nodded.
The heat in that green gaze fogged over with hesitation before Ben looked away to type another message. She’s only a friend?
He lowered his brow as he read Ben’s question. His gaze snapped back to Ben. “Yes. I’ve known her for years and worked for her husband before he passed. We’re just friends. Honestly, I’d rather be with you today but…I didn’t want to freak you out by saying that.” He remained silent for a moment before adding one more comment. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Ben nodded and fingerspelled “OK.” But it was the twitching shy smile that sent the wave of relief through Bull’s body. The trust in his word had been enough. Ben looked away for a moment, the window popping up with another message. Text me when you get back home. So I know you’re okay.
“Will do.” He smiled as they gestured their goodbyes before disconnecting the video call.
Clipping his phone back into the case on his belt, he stood just as Rachel walked out of her bedroom and into the suite’s living room.
Rachel twisted the towel around her hair and wrapped it at the top of her head. She tightened the belt of her terrycloth robe, all the while staring at him, trying to read him as she often did with others. “What has you smiling?”
He shook his head and huffed out a soft laugh.
“Did you just have phone sex with someone?”
He froze.
“If the smile hadn’t given it away, the messy hair would have.”
He quickly ran both hands through his hair, hoping to smooth out the style.
“I’m a widow not a nun.” She sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to her. “I booked a two-bedroom suite for a reason. You should sl
eep in the bed, not the damn couch.”
“Second bedroom is too far. Living room puts me between you and the front door.”
“Walls are thin.” She absently nodded. “So that means I can’t have phone sex.” The comment was casual, devoid of the usual lightness between them. That took him by surprise. She peeked up at him. In that moment, she was no longer the corporate raider heading up a billion-dollar enterprise. She was the image of the shy, introverted blushing young bride she once was when Bull had first been hired by her late husband.
He turned in his seat to fully face her. He had sensed something had been on her mind the moment he picked her up at the airport. “You’re seeing someone.”
Rachel nodded. “His name is Rafe.”
“Do I need to run a background check on him?”
She sighed. “Anthony already did but it didn’t feel right. I told him not to share anything with me unless there was a red flag.”
“You like him.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I do.”
“And that worries you?”
“It does.”
“Why?”
“It’s been a while.” Rachel finally looked up at him. Wrapped in terrycloth and without a swipe of makeup, she looked unusually vulnerable.
“Is that why you’re doing business instead of him this close to Valentine’s Day?”
“So charming.” She scoffed and shook her head. “It’s pretty new. I don’t want to dive in too deep too fast.” He could totally understand that. It sounded like his own internal argument from that morning. She sighed. “What do I do?”
“You’ve never needed anyone to tell you what to do. Don’t start now.”
“You’re supposed to be my friend. Aren’t friends nosy and always meddling and giving unsolicited advice?”
He half smiled.
“I’m soliciting.” She was fishing. He just wasn’t sure why.
After a few silent seconds, she leaned back on the couch and then turned her head toward him. “After Howard died, you were the one who stood by my side, helping me when I didn’t know what to do. You were my rock during the worst time of my life, and you weren’t getting paid to do that. So I know you genuinely cared, either for me or because of Howard. Honestly, it doesn’t matter what the driving reason was back then because you’ve proven to be a friend to me in all the years since. I’m asking you because I trust you and know there’s no ulterior motive. What do I do?”
Bull took a deep breath. He sure as hell wasn’t the ideal person to dish out love advice. “I’m not the authority on relationships. You know that.”
“Bull…” Rachel said on an exhale.
“I know Howard wouldn’t want you to be miserable. His biggest thrill was making you happy.”
Her entire face brightened, and her eyes misted with emotion. “He was something special…wasn’t he?”
“Yes, he was.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, clasping his hands between his legs. “I don’t like getting involved in other people’s lives. That’s not my style.” Because I don’t want anyone meddling in mine.
“I know.”
He nodded, glad to have made that clear. “Has he ever asked you for money or favors?”
“No. He has his own money.” She shuffled in place beside him, sitting alongside him, attentive. “He’s never raised his voice at me, and he doesn’t talk about work whenever we’re together.”
Bull nodded, not really sure what else to ask without being intrusive. He couldn’t base an assessment through the filtered lens of someone who could be biased. “Take things slow until it feels right. You took charge of an enterprise by trusting your decisions. Keep doing that.”
“You’re not helping.”
He shrugged. “Then dump him.”
“Still not helping,” she said, bumping his shoulder. “I’m kidding. Believe it or not, that did help. I think I just needed to say it out loud without worrying about the listener’s hidden agenda.” She rubbed her hands together. “Tell me about phone sex person.”
He groaned. “I didn’t have phone sex.”
She leaned back on the couch and crossed her arms, her expression transitioning into the boardroom version of Ms. Davenport. “Mr. del Toro, don’t you dare jump ship off our personal boat of vulnerability now. You know it rarely leaves the dock.”
Huffing out a laugh, he shook his head. “His name is Ben.”
“You like him,” she said, mirroring his tone from earlier.
“I do.”
“And that worries you?”
“It does.” He glanced over to her at her question. “He deserves better.”
She stared at him. “I’m going to smack you. You’re a good man,” she said, her tone firm, brooking no argument. “Don’t let those voices in your head get to you.” She patted his knee and stood, ending the conversation.
They grabbed the extra pillow and sheets from the second bedroom and set up the pullout bed in the living room couch. A thin mattress wasn’t ideal, but during his time in service, he had slept in far worse conditions than he cared to remember.
“Good night, Bull.” She lingered in the threshold to her bedroom. “Thanks,” she said, disappearing into her room.
He set his gun nearby and tucked the pillow under his head as he faced the front door.
A vision of Ben and his smile invaded Bull’s mind as an unexpected peace settled within. He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, letting the thoughts of Ben finally lull him into sleep.
Ben picked at the napkin, waiting for the others to finish their dinner conversation. They had been at it for about an hour and were close to wrapping it up. His eyes were heavy and his stomach full. Home-cooked meals were something he would never take for granted. He just needed to find a healthy balance of moderation so his stomach wouldn’t burst.
He tossed another tiny piece of his napkin onto the miniature tower of torn paper.
He hated times like these, when his mind strolled through the dark corners in search of something to latch onto like a leech. He couldn’t shake the odd feeling that something was wrong. He hadn’t heard from Gabriel in four days. Not since their short video chat about his haircut that first night. Natalie had mentioned Gabriel’s silence was common while on assignment, and how it kept him laser focused to ensure he did come home, safe and sound.
He wasn’t sure if knowing that detail made things worse.
Protection detail. Protection of others. With Gabriel as the barrier.
Ben added another piece of napkin to the paper tower.
Gabriel could handle himself. But that didn’t settle the nervous jitters in Ben’s stomach that threatened to push up his dinner.
He folded his lip into his mouth as an image of Gabriel charged into his mind. That smile. That teasing, warm brown gaze inviting him to stare. That evil dimple Ben knew would make him cave to any request if Gabriel were the kind of man to push. Random text and video calls or even all-night marathon chats could be something between friends. But deep down, he knew something was brewing between them, and he wanted the chance to explore and experience it.
Leaning back in his chair, he pitched the final piece of napkin on the pile and sighed. He glanced at the others around the dinner table. They were all chatting, but he didn’t care enough to read their lips. One perk of staring and observing was the ability to pick up on people’s habits. It was Julian’s turn to do the dishes, so he and Matt were going to be in the kitchen for a while and then likely retreat to their bedroom. Or maybe Matt would linger in his office to wrap up a few things. With David out of the house and a few empty rooms to fill, Matt was on a mission to help more people who needed a hand. And Julian would be right there by his side. They were predictable. Not in a bad way, but in a comfortable way that made that little green monster in Ben’s heart make an appearance.
He turned when Calvin tapped his shoulder. “Want to watch some TV or hit up a few games?”
Ex
actly what he had expected Calvin to do after dinner, just as he had each night. Ben appreciated him, but his heart wasn’t in it tonight. He shook his head, feeling an instant stab of regret at rejecting the invitation.
“No problem,” Calvin said, shrugging it off as if it were no big deal. “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll be in my room.” He patted Ben’s shoulder again before leaving the kitchen.
Looking off to the side, away from the prying eyes of the house owners, he let his mind wander, imagining Gabriel standing in front of him. A short video call and screen grab weren’t enough to satisfy the need to see him. He wanted to touch him, feel if his muscles were as hard and tight as they appeared to be when they pushed against his T-shirt. And if hair porn wasn’t a thing, he sure as hell would make it one. Because he wanted to grab a fistful of that newly cut hair and yank back Gabriel’s head and recklessly kiss him, just like people did in the movies.
Ben blew out a heavy breath. As much as he wanted to do that, he didn’t have the nerve to follow through. And he didn’t want to risk misreading their relationship. Gabriel was naturally friendly, so his demeanor could simply be part of his personality in any relationship.
Some would call Gabriel a flirt. And while his dimple and smile were key weapons in the man’s arsenal, Ben suspected another conquest was far from Gabriel’s motives. There was kindness in that big frame. He was considerate, caring, and knew exactly when an extra dash of patience was required. And somehow, someway, he always found the right words to make Ben feel important. Smarter. Stronger. He could read Ben the way no one else could. Then again, Gabriel was a profiler by nature. Maybe it was nothing personal.
Ben bit his lip, wondering if Gabriel’s protection detail assignment would continue another day. Everyday life was a risk in itself. But standing in front of a bullet sort of bumped up the odds. He wanted Gabriel safe, not off somewhere getting stabbed and punched like on his last assignment.
He crossed his arms on the dinner table and leaned forward, resting his chin on his forearms. He stared at his phone, willing it to vibrate with a new message. He could keep this up all night if necessary, waiting for that I’m-back-home text to arrive.