“The four of us: my father, Lily, my younger sister Honey and me. Plus Perry and Mackenzie, who is my father’s driver.”
Everything echoed in the empty dining room. “So where is everyone?”
Gavin shrugged. Jamie remembered mornings at home before he’d left. There’d never been enough time or room, one of his sisters always in the bathroom, Dad slurping coffee while Mom packed his lunchbox. This breakfast had more in common with a funeral than anything else Jamie knew. Complete with a throat-clearing thing that announced the arrival of a man in a black suit and gray tie.
“Perry, this is Mr. Jamie Donnigan.”
Jamie wasn’t sure if he was supposed to shake hands.
Perry nodded. “Officer Donnigan, I believe.”
Jamie nodded back, glad he wasn’t standing there with his hand out feeling stupid. He wondered how many guys met Perry in the morning, if it was usual for Gavin to bring a hookup back to his dad’s mansion, or if Jamie’s being there meant something different. For all he knew, Perry had nodded at a hundred tricks or got downright chummy when Gavin had his orgy buddies over.
“I received your text about holding breakfast,” Perry said. “Was there anything else you needed?”
“No, thank you. Is Lily home?”
“Mrs. Montgomery had a medical appointment this morning.”
Gavin’s quick intake of breath almost sounded like pain. “I forgot. Did she—”
“Your father accompanied her.”
Gavin nodded, jaw tight. “Thank you, Perry.”
“You’re welcome. It was a pleasure meeting you, Officer Donnigan.”
It sounded like there should be a “finally” in there, as if Perry already knew a lot about Jamie. But Perry and Gavin didn’t seem chatty like that. When Perry had vanished back to wherever secretary/security/assistants went, Jamie said, “I figured your dad probably ran a check on me before doing that hero-banquet thing. I’m guessing Perry handled that?”
“Probably.”
Which might explain Perry’s tone, but not why Gavin suddenly wouldn’t meet Jamie’s eyes. Maybe he was rethinking having a cop from Dundalk in the dining room.
The crab-egg thing was really good, better with the bacon Jamie pressed on top. As he ate he wondered if Annabelle got any of the leftovers. Maybe he’d hang on to a slice or two of bacon in case they met up.
Gavin’s fingers shifted from wrapping around his coffee cup to tapping the table to moving his fork to some precise angle on his dish. Jamie had never seen the guy look so fidgety. Time to put him out of his misery. “Hey—”
“So—” Gavin said at the same time.
“Go ahead.” Jamie threw back the rest of his coffee.
“You’re the guest.” There was the Gavin Jamie knew. Wry smiles, that fucking insouciance.
Jamie would rather toss himself out than wait to be sent on his way. “You want a lift back?”
Gavin shook his head.
“I could drop you to meet your dad and—”
“What do you usually do on your days off?”
“Today was gonna be laundry. Why?”
“Since you didn’t have to work, I thought we could do something. Take that boat ride. On one of the yachts we have lying around.”
Jamie couldn’t deny that he’d love to drive one of those fancy boats with more than rescue gear and grappling hooks on board, love a chance to open up the throttle just because he could, not because he was racing to some crisis. “I don’t know.” He leaned back, and Gavin’s gaze landed full on Jamie’s face for the first time since Perry’s entrance. “Laundry day, that’s something hard to pass up. You sure you can match that kind of entertainment?”
“I’ll do my best not to let you down.”
What Gavin called the boathouse was a barn, both stalls occupied with fifty-foot beauties, totaling an easy three million to Jamie’s harbor-practiced eye. The sail cruiser Sweet Dreams was an earlier model, but it could still go for three hundred K, and the rest… Jamie hoped he wasn’t drooling at the Sunseeker Motor Yacht. He’d started toward it before he could stop himself, but now paused to look at Gavin.
“The sailboat is Chip’s. College graduation present. The two of us took it down to St. Vincent.” Gavin smiled, a genuine one for that memory. “This was my mother’s.”
Jamie’s balls tingled at the thought of actually heading into the Chesapeake in that speedboat. It was crazy to think about it, to risk falling for something so beautiful when Saturday he’d be back breathing in the fumes on a patrol boat puttering along the coves. But it was too much to turn down.
Gavin, that bastard, knew it, stepping into the stern with a wide smile that showed perfect teeth. “Want to cast off?”
Jamie had Gavin pilot it out and take it around Miller Island before giving into Gavin’s urging and his own itching hands. The cockpit was open to the air, the roof tipped back, May Day sun bouncing off the gleaming bow. The power flowed under his feet, water rushing, then flying by. After they passed under the Route 50 bridge, Gavin shouted at him to open it up, and they touched fifty-five passing Poplar Island, the boat skimming along like it was gliding on ice. Jamie’s pulse pounded under his skin, every inch of him alive with the wind and the vibration and spray.
Another forty minutes brought them close to the Virginia border. Gavin tapped the navigation system that showed a trip east toward some islands, and Jamie had him take over again.
As Jamie eased the throttle back, he heard Gavin laugh.
“Never thought you’d be so willing to let me drive.”
“Yeah, well, when it’s a couple of million worth of boat, you can be the one to put it aground.”
Gavin dropped the anchor near a place that was more marsh than island, pointing out the ruins of crumbled foundations. “We used to picnic on it, but it’s sinking fast.”
Jamie hadn’t thought about food, or sex, or anything much but the rush in his bones from driving the boat. Now that they were bobbing with some screaming birds for company, he realized he was starving. Breakfast was long gone. Gavin pulled a cushion off a sternward seat and revealed a cooler.
“We didn’t have KZ, but Pellegrino has bubbles at least.”
Jamie peered in. In addition to the sparkling water, there were sandwiches, fruit and cheese. When had—?
“I texted to see if Perry could stock up for us,” Gavin answered before Jamie could ask it.
“He must love getting your texts.”
“Small galley, salon, and head below.” Gavin pointed at the teak hatch. “But there’s a wet bar up here.” He produced two glasses from the cabinet near the cockpit captain chairs. “It’s comfortable enough for an overnight, if you ever wanted to take it out to the ocean.”
Like Jamie wouldn’t immediately start trying to think of a way to make that happen. He ran a tongue around the inside of his cheek.
“Something wrong?” Gavin asked.
“Just checking for a hook in my mouth.”
Gavin thunked the glasses on top of the bar and stepped back, raising his hands as if he were under arrest.
“No hooks. Strictly catch and release.”
“Huh.” Jamie was starting to wonder if he wanted to wiggle free. He’d been enjoying Gavin’s company plenty in the little row house in Dundalk. Out here, with the sun scattering diamonds over the waves, everything felt dangerously good. The kind of good it was a mistake to trust in. He supposed it went without saying that a picnic lunch on a yacht made his invitation to hear the blues in a local dive more than a bit pathetic.
“Guy could get used to this, is all I’m saying.” Jamie moved sternward.
“Are you intimating that my hedonistic lifestyle isn’t without merit?”
“I knew I should have bought that dictionary app for my phone,” Jamie muttered. “All I got is that it doesn’t suck.” He glanced at the boat’s name, reading aloud. “Carpe Diem.”
“It means ‘Seize the day.’”
“Thanks, Captain
, I saw that movie too.”
“It was my mother’s favorite saying.”
“She had a point.”
Gavin handed Jamie a champagne glass of sparkling water. Jamie lifted it to chime against the one Gavin held.
“To your mom.”
“Carpe diem.” Gavin tapped Jamie’s glass.
Jamie took a sip. It wasn’t sweet like KZ, but right then, everything felt perfect the way it was. He slipped a hand around Gavin’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.
There was salt on his lips, a faint taste of the ocean and sun. Jamie went for another kiss, just lips, but the electricity was right there at the surface under Gavin’s skin, under Jamie’s skin, and it didn’t seem to matter if it was out in the middle of the bay or on the deck of a patrol boat, Jamie wanted this guy. Wanted him as much because of the man Gavin was as for the way he made Jamie feel.
“So what if I said I didn’t really care if there was a hook,” he said. Because it seemed a little late to be bitching about a trap when here they both were, and neither of them showed any signs of wanting it to end.
“I thought you were definitely averse to commitments.”
“And if I was kneeling with a ring in my hand, that would matter. Thing is, I’m not too sure I’m not already flopping around on the deck.”
“Somewhere in your overused metaphor you’re making a point, but I’m afraid I’m not getting it.”
Jamie put his glass down on one of the seats and took a walk sternward. Guess he had to spell it out. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at the water. Maybe it was sunstroke. He’d wake up tomorrow with a new batch of freckles, red and sore and regret every word of it.
Or maybe he’d regret it more if he didn’t.
He turned to face Gavin. That crazy feeling was still there. It didn’t matter that Gavin was the type of guy who looked perfectly at home on the deck of a yacht in a golf shirt and jeans with a glass of sparkling water in his hands. Gavin looked just at home sprawled on Jamie’s couch without a stitch on. Gavin fit into Jamie the same way. Like he belonged there.
As good as it felt, as much as knowing Gavin was a phone call away could make Jamie smile, it wasn’t perfect. Didn’t stop the fist-curling frustration at knowing someone had slipped in, that by opening his mouth he was giving Gavin a free kick at Jamie’s balls.
Jamie forced his hands to uncurl and looked at Gavin’s face, his eyes. Not empty now, but damned if Jamie could read him. “I’m saying I want to be with you. I—we, this, it feels good. Really good. Fuck if I know why, but it’s there and I like it.”
As Jamie waited for an answer, his scrotum tightened with the warning that the free kick was on its way. “Now would be a good time for Mr. Walking Dictionary to help me out.”
Gavin blinked, then his face went completely still.
Jamie was torn between jumping in and swimming until he got to someplace he could call a cab and shaking an answer out of the man turned mannequin. He was betting the swim would be at least a couple miles and the water was murky. He stepped toward Gavin.
“Nothing?” Jamie asked.
He stared into Gavin’s face. Not nothing. There was something there, like something big under the water, the threat visible in ripples. A displeased press of lips, a hint of anger in his eyes. Did he think Jamie was going to turn psycho stalker?
“Okay, fine. I get it. You don’t feel it.” Jamie moved toward the back bench that faced the stern. “I’m gonna sit out here. Take us back when you’re ready.” Jamie stared out at the green-brown waves, the sun still doing that thing where it tipped them all with diamonds, but now it just hurt his eyes. If he’d known he was going to spend the day on a yacht, he’d have brought his shades.
Breaking glass punched through the sound of birds and waves. Jamie spun around to find Gavin, who looked seriously pissed. Jamie rolled to his feet ready for a fight. Maybe some people couldn’t take a compliment.
“What the fuck was that?” Gavin grabbed his arm.
Jamie let him have it for a second, seeing what he’d thought was anger looked more like fear now that the sun wasn’t in his eyes. Hand on Gavin’s wrist, Jamie pried himself free. He was out of words. Didn’t have any answer to the look on Gavin’s face.
Gavin pinned Jamie’s shoulders in a squeezing grip. “You don’t say you’re falling in love with me, then—”
“I didn’t say anything about love—”
“Act like it didn’t fucking matter to you.”
Jamie had given him all the space he could. He tore free and shoved Gavin back a step. “Christ, Gavin, I’m not the one holding back here. When have you ever acted like any of this mattered to you?”
“You think because my ass is easy to get, my feelings should be out there for anyone to fuck over too?” Something went through Gavin, not a shudder, too small for that, just a vibration, but when Jamie put a hand on Gavin’s arm, there was a thrum like the engine had been turned over.
“What are we even fighting about?” Jamie asked, rubbing a thumb across Gavin’s cheek.
“Fighting seems to be a way of life with you.”
“When I feel something, I say it. I don’t bullshit around. What I said, I meant it. I don’t know what to call it, but it’s there. Carpe diem, right?”
“Simply the feeling of the day?”
Jamie shook his head. “Nah. Starting to think you had me hooked under the bridge that night.”
Gavin laughed, but there was nothing happy about it. “High, frozen and semiconscious. I’m sure I made a terrific impression.”
“You’ve impressed the hell out of me.”
“This feeling. Can you give the walking dictionary more to go on?” Gavin’s lips quirked.
“Can’t explain it. Doesn’t feel like anything else.”
Gavin cradled Jamie’s head and kissed him lightly. After touching a thumb to Jamie’s lips, Gavin kissed him again. “Do you know how many men, besides you, I’ve brought to the manor?”
Jamie wanted to say he really didn’t care. If there was another orgy invitation, Gavin could fuck whoever he wanted as long as he went home with Jamie.
“None,” Gavin said.
“Wait, I might have failed algebra a few times. You’re not counting yourself there, right? It’s not one of those logic riddles? Because my head hurts.”
“No.” Gavin smiled. Really smiled. It showed in his eyes, and there was the whole sunshine-on-the-water thing again except Jamie was looking at Gavin. “You’re the only man I’ve ever asked to come home with me. I don’t know—I don’t know if that’s the kind of answer you want, but I wanted to tell you that.”
Chapter Thirteen
Gavin was surprised Jamie wanted to ride to his friend’s house in Mount Washington for the party. He’d never shown an interest in the Bentley before. Gavin dangled the keys in temptation, but after a second where lust shone bright in Jamie’s eyes, Jamie shook his head, a half smile curling his mouth.
“I know it would get me hard, might even get me off. And that would ruin the plans I got for when we get home. Besides, think of your interior.”
“It’s seen worse.” Gavin shrugged.
“Yeah?” Was there jealousy in Jamie’s square-jawed stare, or was that wishful thinking? “You and your friends—Beach or Soren go in for that?”
“Soren considers only Jaguars fit for driving. And while Beach is up for anything if it means he gets off, I—that was a very long time ago. Pre-Bentley.”
“He—how’s he doing?”
“I try to get in to see him a few times a week. They’re talking about moving him to a long-term care facility. According to the medical profession, if he were going to wake, he would have by now.”
Jamie nodded. “Guess the medically induced coma thing wasn’t what they thought it would be.”
“You—how do you know about the treatment?”
“I checked a ways back. Not everybody makes it, but I like to know. File’s still open.”
“Part of your job.”
“Just glad your file’s closed. Actually, I’m glad the whole thing got yanked right out of my hand.”
Despite what Jamie had said on the boat, Gavin couldn’t help looking for signs of Jamie’s disapproval. They’d seemed evident before. Now everything came with a double meaning. “Why?”
“They frown on you fucking someone in an open investigation.”
“Ah.” Sex was the one thing Gavin was sure they were clear on.
Though Jamie had wanted a ride, he seemed uncomfortable in the passenger seat, shifting around, rubbing his fingers on the inlaid wood, the leather interior, examining all the console buttons.
Gavin hesitated then asked, “Is everything okay with your truck?”
“Oh yeah, it’s fine.” Jamie sat back for an instant, but then his head was moving again.
“You usually prefer to drive.”
“Yeah, but rolling up in your Bentley is going to make Quinn shit out a kidney.”
Jamie went back to scanning everywhere, checking the mirrors. His eyes met Gavin’s in the rear view, then Jamie turned to peer into the backseat.
Gavin didn’t need to see the cop face he’d become familiar with. Jamie’s irritated suspicion came through in his voice.
“What the hell’s that?”
Gavin didn’t have to straighten to see the small gift box in the mirror, but he did a double-check to be sure they were talking about the same thing.
“It’s a gift. You said it was a birthday party.”
“For a friend of my friend’s boyfriend.” Jamie looked back again. “And the wine?”
“For the host.”
“Ah fuck, pull in there.” Jamie pointed at the convenience store approaching on their right. Gavin slid into a parking spot at the edge of the store. “I’ll be right back.” Jamie stomped off into the store.
Gavin waited. When it was tucked into the dark, quiet alley behind Jamie’s row house, Gavin had never considered the impression the Bentley made in Dundalk. It was simply his car; Dundalk was simply where Jamie lived. But now as passersby cranked their heads to stare, Gavin felt ridiculous. Ashamed. Maybe Jamie had reasons other than being a control freak for taking the truck everywhere.
Bad Attitude Page 15