“Okay.” Severo’s lips tipped up just the slightest bit as he stepped back. “It must be pretty difficult, being in your position.”
Laine refused to comment, a confirmation would be an admission he wasn’t yet prepared to make, and he’d already decided he didn’t want to lie.
“You’ll probably have questions once you run that.” Severo tipped his chin at the paper in Laine’s hand. “I’m right down the road at the motel, room one-fifteen, if you have any questions or if you need anything.” He turned and left Laine’s office without looking back, leaving Laine to wonder what, exactly, Severo meant with that last statement.
* * * *
Once Doreen was gone for the day, Laine seated himself at her desk and tapped at the keyboard until he opened the program he wanted. He didn’t question why he hadn’t asked Doreen to run a search on one Severo Adulio Robledo. Laine wanted to do the search, as though he could keep the man to himself. Something about that impish face and those thick-lashed, barely green eyes had stirred feelings in Laine he didn’t dare think about.
Laine drummed his fingers on the desk and waited for the printer to spit out the information on Severo, trying to sort out just what it was that he was feeling. Nervous…and horny, damn it.
“No way. Not now, not still!” Maybe if he said it enough, it would be true. “No fucking way!” The man wasn’t even his type, nowhere close to it. Laine’s type—when he’d had a type—tended to be tall and rangy, much like himself, not small and damn near delicate looking, despite the broad shoulders. Not someone pretty enough to catch your eye and keep it. Not someone who didn’t do anything other than fun fucks. Maybe this was simply a case of an available lay—maybe if he drove over to Fort Worth, hit up one of the bars he’d heard about from Zeke and Brendon…but no. The very idea of doing that made him cold, while thinking of Severo damn near burnt him alive. Why?
The printer spurted and sputtered out the papers on Severo. Laine pushed and rolled the chair over to the printer, not trusting his legs to hold him up just yet. He picked the papers up between his thumb and forefinger, like they might be evidence and he was risking contaminating them. He rolled back over to the desk, put the papers down and started reading, shaking his head and feeling a sense of panic welling up. The man wasn’t a criminal by any means, though he was familiar with more than one police department. Laine leaned back after reading the last page and tried to think. The papers on the desk fluttered and Laine glanced up to watch them rise in the air and swirl around, his own miniature tornado courtesy of whatever Casper was hanging around right now.
“Christ.” Laine reached out and started grabbing at the papers. It wouldn’t do for them to be scattered all over and have Doreen find any of them. He caught all of them except for one that kept just ahead of his trailing fingers, teasing and taunting him every time he thought he had the paper in his grip.
“Cut it out already!” Laine’s temper snapped. “I’ve had a bitch enough of a day as it is, so just stop!” The paper dropped to the floor, every evidence of the ‘breeze’ that had toyed with it gone in an instant. Laine picked the paper up and told himself he did not feel like a bully for running off the playful spirit. The last thing he needed was more guilt, and it was plumb stupid to feel bad about hurting a dead person’s feelings, wasn’t it?
Laine stuffed the information on Severo into his desk drawer and steeled himself. He needed to make a call, one years past due probably, and it would take all of his courage to pick up the phone and plunge himself into his past.
* * * *
He watched Richard Montoya as the detective talked on the phone, laughing occasionally at something the deep voice rumbled over the line. Pretending to read reports, he noticed Montoya taking notes, heard him promise to ‘check into him’ for the man who’d called. It was all he could do not to walk over to Montoya’s desk and read what he’d written. Excitement and anticipation tingled inside him—he’d waited over three years for this. He’d always known he’d get another chance, and this was it. Soon, he’d have the man who’d slipped through his fingers years ago.
Montoya hung up the phone and grinned, looking over at him. “Damn. Guess who that was?”
He kept his voice disinterested as he shrugged. “No idea.” But he knew.
Montoya laughed and shook his head. “That was Laine Stenley, my old partner. You remember him, kid?”
Oh, yes, more than you’ll ever know. “Vaguely. Tall guy, dark-haired? The one whose, ah, friend, was…” He let his voice trail off, hoping there was enough insinuation in his words to keep Montoya talking.
Montoya cast a mean look his way. “Yeah, his friend. Anyone who says anything else will answer to me.” Montoya gathered up the paper he’d written on and tossed his sport coat over his arm, then slammed his chair against the desk.
Fuck! He’s still protective of Laine! I fucked up, but I can fix it. “Hey, man, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just trying to make sure I had the right guy.”
“Yeah, well, it didn’t sound that way to me.” Montoya glared at him one last time then left the room.
That fucker needs to learn a lesson. Maybe I’ll teach him what happens to people who talk to me like that—after I finish what I started years ago. Grinning despite his anger with Montoya—because the man would pay for his snotty attitude—he walked over to Montoya’s desk and picked up the note pad Montoya had written on while talking to Laine. Sure enough, he could see the deep pen strokes left on the paper beneath the one Montoya had torn off. He pocketed the whole note pad and strolled out, ready to get home and plan his next move.
Chapter Three
Laine hesitated, his hand curled into a loose fist as it hovered over the number on the hotel room’s door. Why was he doing this? No, why was he hesitating? This inner battle that had him wanting to pound on the door and run away at the same time had to stop.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Laine tapped the door three times, trying to organize his thoughts. When no response followed, he rapped his knuckles harder against the door. He’d come early—it was just a few minutes past seven in the morning right now—hoping to catch Severo off guard. Laine had a feeling this particular man posed a risk to him and felt it would be best to keep Severo off balance.
When the door finally opened, Laine realized the error of his thinking. He was thrown completely off balance, off his guard, damn near off his feet by the sight of the bed-warmed skin and tousled hair, the soft, heady look of sleep still showing in Severo’s heavy-lidded eyes. Even the pillow impressions creased into Severo’s cheek looked sexy and called to Laine with a promise of smooth sheets and even smoother skin.
What the hell was he thinking? Laine watched Severo blink the sleep-induced haze away and willed himself not to let his gaze drop down to the tempting expanse of golden brown skin on display. Damn. Who’d have thought the little guy was so built? Severo was shirtless, Laine had noticed that the second the man opened the door, and the promise of a visual feast was making it difficult for Laine to keep himself focused on Severo’s startling eyes.
“Can I help you, Sheriff?” Severo’s voice was soft and slightly slurred, as though his tongue hadn’t yet woken up with the rest of his body. It was the sexiest thing Laine had heard in a long time.
“Yeah.” Laine wondered when his voice had gotten so low, so hard. “You want to tell me again what brings you to McKinton?”
Severo rubbed his eyes and the gesture seemed to chase away whatever sleepiness had remained. He looked up at Laine with clear, pale green eyes and pursed his lips while fingering a silver chain. Laine felt his control slipping again, glancing down to watch long, surprisingly elegant fingers rub the thin necklace. The contrast between Severo’s skin and that silver chain was fascinating, scintillating even. Laine’s gaze dipped lower, to Severo’s well-defined chest, still surprised at the amount of muscle the small man had packed onto his frame. Two small, dark copper colored nipples rested on firm pecs, a slight smattering of black
hair between them leading down to bisect abs that put Laine’s six-pack to shame.
“I don’t know if I should invite you in, or lock the door and protect my…virtue.” Severo’s teasing words had Laine snapping his gaze back up where it should have been all along.
“Your virtue,” Laine didn’t bother biting back his sarcasm, “is not at risk.” Hell, the guy’s virtue had probably not been in danger for years, not with a body and face like that.
Mouth twisted in a wry grin, Severo stepped back and gestured Laine in. “Since you’re the sheriff, I’ll take your word for it about my virtue. For now.”
Laine pulled up short and glared at Severo. “What do you mean by that?”
The look Severo sent him was one that called Laine on his bullshit—it told him Severo knew Laine had more than liked what he saw.
“Don’t worry, Sheriff Stenley, I’m not gonna go telling everyone in town you’re gay.”
Back to that. Laine rocked back on his heels and tried to keep his expression impassive. He closed his eyes, needing an escape from Severo’s penetrating stare. He couldn’t deny it again, not after he’d visually mauled the man without a single thought to the repercussions. At this rate, he wouldn’t have to worry about Irma or anyone else outing him, he’d do it just fine on his own, at the worst possible time, no doubt. He’d be lucky if he wasn’t killed. Zeke being gay was one thing. He was born and raised here, and even so, the man had been assaulted numerous times. The townsfolk were, for the most part, decent about it now, and treated Brendon better than Laine had expected since he was Zeke’s lover. But for their sheriff to be gay?
No, that wouldn’t do at all, and it hadn’t been a problem in the past since Laine never intended to take another lover while in office, but one small—well, maybe not small, exactly—man was threatening it all.
Shame washed over him, which was stupid, in his opinion. There was no need for him to tell anyone he was gay, not when, no matter how appealing he found any man, he wasn’t going to act on it…maybe. If he could summon up enough willpower.
Laine flinched when he felt a warm hand on his forearm. He opened his eyes and looked at Severo’s hand resting there, the man’s skin only a shade or two darker than Laine’s tanned forearm.
“I won’t tell anyone.” Severo squeezed quickly then stepped away. Laine felt the loss of the man’s warmth immediately and, in his opinion, inappropriately. It was just a God damned hand!
Laine nodded and spoke before he could think about it. “If people find out, I’ll have to leave. Then I can’t watch over them.” Laine looked at Severo and told himself he was glad the man had put on a T-shirt. “I can’t protect Zeke and Brendon if I’m not the sheriff here.”
Zeke and Brendon… Those two men had wormed their way past Laine’s defenses, past his promises to keep everyone at a distance, and he was determined that no one would ever hurt them again. Zeke was the one who’d been physically injured, but Brendon had suffered along with him to the point that Laine had worried what would happen to him if Zeke didn’t pull through. It had been a harrowing and eye-opening discovery to learn that he could still care about other people so much. And if he could save either man from going through what he had…
“I understand.” Severo leaned down, rifled through his open suitcase and grabbed some clothes. “Do you mind if I brush my teeth and freshen up, for lack of a better term, before you grill me on my reasons for being here?” His cheeks darkened and Laine didn’t fight a grin. Poor guy probably had to pee so bad that his eyes were watering. God knew Laine usually had to stumble to the bathroom first thing in the morning or his bladder would burst.
“No problem. I’ll just…” Laine spotted the cheap table and chairs by the hotel window. Ugly floral drapes were pulled shut, blocking out any curious stares. “I’ll just have a seat.” He pulled the report he’d printed out on Severo yesterday from his pocket, ignoring Severo’s frown and sitting.
“That’s it?”
Laine looked at the man. “Yup.”
Severo’s frown deepened, wrinkles appearing on his forehead as his eyebrows scrunched together. “And does it tell you that I…”
“Go do what you have to do, Severo, and we’ll talk when you get out.” Laine turned back to the papers.
“But—” Severo started to protest, walking over to Laine.
“Go on. A few minutes isn’t going to make a difference, is it? This information will still be here and so will I.”
Severo exhaled a much-put-upon sounding sigh. “Fine. You haven’t laughed at me so far, or tried to run me off yet, so I don’t guess a few more minutes will change that.”
Once Severo had turned away, Laine let himself look at the man. Dark, softly curling hair came down to rest on the top of Severo’s back. Laine’s eyes drifted down to a beautifully rounded ass just before Severo slipped into the bathroom and shut the door. That quick glimpse of the man’s tight ass was enough to firm up the semi-erection that had started to fill Laine’s jeans. He groaned and slapped his palms against his forehead. What was it about Severo that went straight to his dick?
Severo had to piss so bad he was hopping in place as he brushed his teeth. The fact that he was doing what his nieces and nephews referred to as the potty dance wasn’t lost on him. It was ridiculous at his age. He would have laughed, but his bladder was cramping and his dick wasn’t softening fast enough to take care of the matter. He spat and rinsed out his mouth, then splashed cold water on his face. By the time he’d wet his hair down, he had his unruly dick under control and was finally able to relieve himself. Severo washed his hands and dried them off, then quickly got dressed, irritated with himself for anticipating the next few minutes spent with Laine…make that Sheriff Stenley. The man appealed to him in a way that frightened Severo, and fascinated him. He had the feeling there were so many layers to Stenley, and Severo wanted nothing more than to peel each layer back and bury himself in the man.
Well, I’d rather him be buried in me, as deep and hard as possible…as often as possible. Severo’s fingers fumbled on the button of his jeans. Oh, no. No, no, no, no! What am I thinking? That man is too scared to take what I offered him anyway—and I don’t do as often as possible, that implies a relationship. That freaked Severo more than anything, because he wanted Stenley more than he could remember ever wanting a man before, but Stenley didn’t seem to be the one-night stand type, and Severo didn’t know how to be anything else.
Then again, he mused, the sheriff felt the need to keep the closet door shut tight, so maybe there was more than one reason for today’s visit. The man probably hadn’t been laid in a while. He might be open to the suggestion of a one nighter after all. Surely Sev could keep his heart safe for a night? He’d been able to bury everything except his attraction to Stenley yesterday in the man’s office. Sev had come dangerously close to begging the guy to fuck him. All those feelings of doom and gloom and shattered…whatever had just been his hyperactive imagination, right? He’d never been at any emotional risk before when he’d had a quick fuck, so this wouldn’t be any different. Once they’d gotten each other out of their systems, they could walk away happy—and a lot less horny. The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. Now, if he could just convince the sheriff to go along with it…
Severo stepped out of the bathroom wearing his most seductive smile, which quickly slipped away as the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up, as it always did when the dead made their presence known. He’d have sworn his stomach dropped to his ankles as it occurred to him that the man in his room was, most likely, the reason Sev had been led here.
Sheriff Stenley was muttering and glaring at a piece of paper lying on the floor by his feet. He bent down to pick up the paper, only to end up cursing soundly when the sheet fluttered a few feet away before dropping back to the floor.
“Oh, come on, now! That’s enough!” Stenley threw his hands up in the air and froze as he spotted Severo. Sev watched with fascination as a pink
flush crawled over Stenley’s neck and face, his gray eyes widening in a way that should have been funny but instead shot a bolt of need straight to Sev’s cock. Damn, the man is freakin’ sexy!
Stenley’s mouth opened and closed twice before he cleared his throat and shook his head. “Think maybe he—or she, I don’t know what the hell it is—will let you grab that?” Stenley pointed at the paper.
“Well. No wonder you didn’t laugh at me once you read that report.”
The sheriff’s blush deepened. “I’d be hard-pressed not to believe you can speak to the dead, not when you’ve consulted on several investigations and helped solve so many of them.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “And not when I’ve got this character giving me shit all the time.”
Sev sucked the air back into his lungs—he’d forgotten to breathe apparently, fascinated by the deep color marking Stenley’s skin—but couldn’t look away from the sheriff’s silvery gaze. The paper whipped up into the air and started spinning, snapping Sev out of his stupor. He lunged for the paper at the same time Stenley did, crashing into the bigger man. Laine gripped Sev’s shoulders, jerking him forward just as his heels rocked back. He collided with Stenley’s hard body, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs. Heat surged through Sev, his dick swelling painfully fast, the friction of Stenley’s thigh as the man sought to keep Sev upright drawing a groan from Sev’s lips—and he wasn’t alone in his arousal. Stenley’s cock was thick and scorching against Sev’s stomach.
Every reason for him not to get involved with the sheriff fled and the only thought remaining in Sev’s mind was the knowledge that he planned to offer this man his body. Sev’s head felt heavy despite the fact that all the blood in his body seemed to have shot down south. He looked up at the sheriff and felt seared by those molten silver eyes. Sev pushed aside the nervousness that threatened to bubble up and over. This, seduction and sex, he knew how to do.
When the Dead Speak Page 4