When the Devil Wants In

by Cate Ashwood

  That sounded about right. John could barely even nod in understanding. His mind raced, memories of that night, how good it had felt, how badly John had wanted Matt. Not to mention a whole new terror clawing its way through John’s belly. His skin prickled with tension as he forced himself not to grit his teeth. “Good to meet ya,” he said, trying not to sound too stiff, but his panic was damn near strangling him.

  “You too,” Matt said, his eyes darting between John and Chloe. “Your mother’s a nice lady.”

  A small glimmer of relief swelled in John. Matt, for the moment at least, was willing to play along just as well as Chloe did.

  Or hell, maybe Matt didn’t even realize who he was. They’d spent less than two hours in each other’s company. Though, that was probably wishful thinking. He could swear he caught a quick look of recognition flit across Matt’s face.

  “And nosy,” Chloe added, grinning, as if she were trying to be charming enough for both of them.

  Andy laughed and said, “That too, but she keeps us in snacks and not-so-anonymous tips.” He paused for a beat, probably waiting for John to offer a proper introduction of Chloe, but John couldn’t manage the words and he knew it without trying. Finally, Andy said, “And this is Chloe Walsh, John’s…. Hell, I don’t know what to call you,” Andy said with a laugh. “You keep turning the poor bastard down, so you’re not his fiancée yet.”

  Normally Chloe would launch into how she doesn’t belong to anyone and isn’t his anything, but she must have sensed something from John. “Just his will do,” Chloe said, hugging John around the middle, a silent, stealthy offer of support. She could probably feel John’s heart racing where her head rested on his chest.

  That was enough to snap John out of it. He pressed a kiss into her hair, squeezed her shoulder, and said, “That works for me.”

  Chloe pulled back again, jumping from protective to evil in less than a second. “Did you say y’all were about to take your dinner break?”

  “I did, yeah,” Andy said, nodding.

  No. No. Stop, Chloe. No.

  “Good,” she said, tugging John’s hand. “We’re headed down to the Smokehouse. You can join us.”

  Goddamn it. Goddamn her.

  Andy didn’t even answer at first, simply turned to follow Chloe. “I like the way you think, hon.”

  John bit the inside of his cheek, feeling his skin flame, despite the fact that the temperature was a moderate eighty-two. “Baby,” he said to Chloe. “I’m not really dressed for this. Lemme run home and change.” And not come back.

  Chloe knew him too well. “You’re fine. You got a shirt and some shoes on.”

  He wanted to scream, shake his fist at her right in the middle of the sidewalk.

  THE AIR outside the Smokehouse Bar and Grill was tangy-sweet, rich, heavy. Despite John’s apprehension, his stomach growled as they stepped through the door. Maybe he could just order a trough of ribs and pass the time with his mouth full.

  They were seated quickly enough, mostly because the crowd was always light on a Wednesday, but having two men in uniform who needed to get back on patrol probably didn’t hurt.

  In the booth, John had somehow managed to get stuck directly across from Matt, which he supposed was better than right beside him, but not by much. John hid behind his menu for longer than he needed to. He wanted to study Matt’s face, look at his dark brown eyes. But he couldn’t let himself.

  “Are you trying to memorize that thing?” Chloe asked, plucking the menu from John’s hands. “You get the same thing every time you come here.”

  The waitress had appeared and looked pointedly at John. Apparently, she’d been there for some time. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I’ll have a sweet-smoked half slab with coleslaw instead of chips.”

  She jotted down his order and then looked at him. “Okay, hon. You want Coke or some sweet tea with that?”

  “Sweet tea, please, with lemon.”

  She nodded again, collected their menus, and turned for the kitchen. How he’d missed her presence, or the fact that everyone else had ordered, was beyond him.

  “Matt was just telling us about moving down here from San Francisco,” Chloe said.

  “Bet you’ve caught some shit over that already,” John said without thinking.

  Matt looked surprised when John spoke directly to him. “A bit, yeah,” he said. “Mostly just for being an out-of-towner, but I’ve gotten a few homo jokes too.”

  Again, John felt his face heat, his heart race. He reached for the mason jar full of ice water and hoped his hand wouldn’t shake.

  “Those all came from Parker, though,” Andy pointed out with a laugh.

  “Well, Jay Parker was always kind of a dick,” Chloe said, resting her hand on John’s knee under the table, her touch a light, soothing weight.

  Andy laughed. “He still is, but he’s a good cop—good enough, at least.”

  Matt shrugged and said, “People just automatically assume everyone in San Francisco is gay. Outside of the Castro, though…. Well, obviously that’s not the case.”

  Out of desperation to change the subject, John asked, “You gettin’ all settled in here, then?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  The conversation paused as their waitress—Marnie, John knew—dropped off their teas and soft drinks. Matt thanked her with an easy smile and turned his attention back to John. God help him.

  “I drove here. Spending that many days cramped in my pickup left me with a lot of nervous energy, so it was easy to unpack, do a little exploring since I started work.”

  Andy picked up on something Matt had said, and he grinned broadly. “Yeah? You’re all done unpacking?”

  Matt looked confused, but he nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got everything sorted out now.”

  “Excellent,” Andy said, rubbing his hands together. “Housewarming cookout at your place this weekend, then.”

  “What? No, I—”

  Andy cut him off just as their food arrived. “Yup, no getting out of it. You’re the new guy, so it’s your obligation to have everyone over. We’ll bring the meat and whatnot. You supply the side dishes and booze.”

  “It’d be cheaper if you let him supply the meat,” Chloe said, leaning over her pulled pork sandwich to catch Matt’s eye. “Those boys down at the station can put away two kegs between ’em and keep going.”

  “That’s why we make the new guy supply the drinks,” Andy said as he dug into his chicken. “You two should come too,” he added around a bite of his food.

  “Saturday?” Chloe asked, fishing her phone from her purse, pulling up the calendar.

  “Yeah,” Andy said, “Say sixish? The guys on first and third shift can make it that way, and second shift can just drop by when they get the chance.”

  Matt sat in the corner next to his partner, a bewildered expression on his face. “Is this a Southern thing?” he asked. “I’ve never been railroaded into hosting a party before….”

  Under any other circumstances, John would’ve laughed.

  Andy shoveled a bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth, shook his head as he swallowed, and then said, “Nah, just our station tradition. You’ll get used to it.”

  John had to wonder about that. He loved his town, even loved most of the people, but he knew their quirks and inside jokes seemed odd—at best—to an outsider. Maybe he’d get lucky and Matt would hightail it back to—seriously? Of course—San Francisco before the end of the month.

  “Address?” Chloe glanced up at Matt, who rattled off his address for her. She tapped it into her contacts and then asked for his phone number as well. Matt obliged, and Chloe kept tapping her screen. “Okay, ignore that text, but now you’ve got mine and John’s numbers. In case you need some normal folk to show you around instead of the clowns you work with.”

  “Hey, now,” Andy said, laughing. “We’re not that bad.”

  “You’re not that bad,” Chloe agreed with a nod.

  Everything happened so fast, it took John a
long moment for her words to register. Fanfuckingtastic. She’d just given Matt his phone number. And made plans for them to go to his house for a party.

  Maybe John would be really lucky and get hit by a truck before Saturday.

  Once they’d finished their dinners and said their goodbyes, John walked Chloe to her car. “I’m not goin’ to that barbeque,” he said firmly.

  “Oh yes you are.” The look on Chloe’s face told John how set she was on it. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on with you, but you’re goin’ with me.”

  “No.” John always had a hard time saying no to anyone, especially Chloe. “I’m putting my foot down on this.” Which was why he sucked at it.

  Chloe actually laughed. “Did you really just say that to me?” Rather than get in her car, she leaned against the front fender and pulled out a cigarette. “Spill it,” she said as she lit up.

  John heaved a sigh. He didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the street in front of the courthouse. He dropped his voice to a whisper and said, “Remember that guy I told you about the other weekend?”

  “The one you hooked up with at the bar?”

  John nodded, willing her to understand.

  She didn’t. “What? Are you planning to go back and try for another round?”

  “Not exactly, no.” He waited for her to catch up, but finally he said, “That was Andy’s new partner.”

  Chloe took a long drag from her cigarette, as if she were thinking something over. She snorted a laugh and said, “Oh, you’re definitely goin’ now.”

  Chapter Six

  NOTHING BUT a couple of wispy clouds obscured an otherwise flawlessly blue sky. Matt peered out the window of Andy’s car, half hoping for rain.

  “I’m still not sure you how roped me into hosting a barbeque for half the town,” Matt said, glancing sideways at Andy. They parked in front of the Magnolia Market and got out.

  “It’s tradition.”

  Andy was so full of shit. “Somehow I seriously doubt that.”

  “Okay, the fact that you’re a sucker any more believable?”

  “Much.” Matt grabbed a cart and pushed it through the sliding doors inside.

  “You coulda said no.”

  “Right. I might be the new guy, but it didn’t take me long to figure out you’re the kind of guys that woulda just shown up anyway.”

  “True.” Andy shrugged and tossed a bag of tortilla chips into the cart. “But you wouldn’t have had to shell out for the beer.”

  “Shit. I didn’t think of that.”

  At the moment, there were more cans of beer than he could count overflowing from his fridge and practically bursting from the cooler he’d bought to keep out on the back deck.

  Matt stopped in the produce section to grab as many ears of corn as he could fit into a couple of plastic bags. “I spent an hour last night looking for recipes, but frankly, that’s more effort than you all deserve.”

  “No one expected you to cook. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’d prefer you didn’t.”

  They sidled up to the deli counter where a blonde girl in a green apron was standing.

  “Hey, Andy. What can I get for ya?” she asked.

  “Nothin’ for me, but I think Matt needs to shortcut his way to some passable salads for the barbeque he’s hosting today.”

  “That I can definitely help with. What were you thinkin’?”

  “Just potato salad and coleslaw I think. That should do it.”

  “Both of these are made from Leonora’s Great-Grammy’s recipe. No one’s gonna be able to tell they aren’t homemade.” She reached into a container to her right and grabbed a handful of spoons, then offered Andy and Matt a taste test of each.

  “Perfect,” Matt said, his mouth still full. “I’ll take a couple of large containers of both, please.” Best damn potato salad he’d ever had.

  ANDY HAD dropped him off hours ago, and now everyone was due to arrive any minute and he was filled with nervous energy. He’d been warned that most of the guys from the station would show up, and since he’d only met the people on his own shift, it was a chance for him to get to know everyone.

  The longer he spent in Magnolia Ridge, the less lonely he felt, but the first week or so had been a challenge. He was used to the busyness and bustle of San Francisco. Anytime he was feeling particularly social, or even a little restless, all he’d had to do was step outside his door and there were a thousand places to go to be around other people.

  Here was the opposite. Half the town was closed by six, and on Sundays, almost nothing was open at all. The community was close-knit, and there were a few people he’d run into that had no time for outsiders. More than once he’d questioned his decision to move, but ultimately he knew that even if it took some time, he could be happy here.

  This barbeque was a good excuse to socialize and maybe expand his social circle a bit. It was still pretty much limited to Andy, Jay, and Carl. Matt had never had trouble with people. He was outgoing and enjoyed socializing, and the prospect of meeting everyone who worked at the MRPD had him excited.

  Knowing John would be there had Matt feeling divided. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about John since the night they’d met in Jacksonville. He was so fucking hot, and the sex had been fantastic. The ending to their night together had been… abrupt, but Matt didn’t mind so much. Abrupt or not, he’d like another shot with John.

  Matt had seen the flash of terror in John’s eyes when he’d rounded the front of the police cruiser. He’d been blindsided himself. Surprise had transformed into a muddled mess of apprehension and out-and-out lust. The situation was confusing—Matt still didn’t know what the score was, but he couldn’t help the way his body reacted to John. Like a junkie chasing a fix, he wanted John even though there was a good possibility he shouldn’t. Clearly, the situation for John was complicated. The fact that he seemed to be sort-of-kind-of-almost-engaged to Chloe had Matt wary.

  Wary and yet swamped with jealousy.

  The sight of John made Matt’s blood heat, and sitting across from him at the Smokehouse, Matt had ached to get John alone and find out exactly what his deal was. Whether he was cheating on Chloe or the whole thing was just a front, there had to be an explanation for why John chose to drive an hour and a half to find someone to sleep with. Matt had a feeling that reason was probably rooted in the bigotry he’d glimpsed since moving to Magnolia Ridge, but he couldn’t be certain. If it was that John didn’t want Chloe to know he preferred a dick in his ass, Matt wanted nothing to do with it. But if John was just trying to keep his business private, Matt knew how to be discreet. And if John’s reasoning did check out, what Matt wouldn’t give for a few more hours with just the two of them. He was willing to bet the sex would be just as good the second time around.

  The sound of voices calling out his name pulled Matt from his thoughts. He rounded the corner into the living room, where he saw John standing just inside the door. Matt’s heart tripped over itself. The afternoon sun created a halo around him, and Matt wondered if anyone had ever looked so good. He let his gaze rake over John’s body for a fraction of a moment, until he noticed Chloe next to him. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see her there. He’d known she was coming—in fact, she’d seemed more eager to join in than John had, judging by the text she’d sent earlier asking if there was anything she could bring—but her presence threw him off anyway.

  With barely a breath between them, it was easy to see how close they were, and when Matt met her eyes, she was staring at him, a knowing smile quirking her mouth in the corner. There was nothing malicious about it—rather the opposite. It made Matt feel as though they shared some sort of secret, like they’d been friends all their lives and she knew every skeleton he had in his closet.

  “Sorry, guys,” Matt said awkwardly, realizing he was still gawking. “Come on in. Make yourselves comfortable. There’s plenty of space to sit out back, or stay inside and make the most of the AC before everyone else
gets here if you like.”

  “Thanks,” Chloe said with a broad smile. “We got a stack of lawn chairs in the back of the truck,” she added as they stepped farther inside. “And an extra case of beer and a bottle of tequila just in case you run out.”

  “Don’t let her drink the tequila,” John said with a sharp look at Chloe, who simply grinned at him. He lifted the large canvas bag in his hand—which Matt hadn’t even noticed until that moment. “Momma sent over some cornbread and biscuits, fruit salad. There’s probably some coleslaw in here too.”

  “Oh, great.” Matt let out a breath and added, “You can set it all in the kitchen?” He hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question, but it did. “And please thank her for me.”

  As they walked past, Matt saw the other guys making their way up the front walk. Andy led the pack with Jay, each of them carrying one side of the largest red Coleman cooler he’d ever seen.

  “Meat’s in here,” Andy declared proudly, as though he’d shot and butchered it himself. Hell, maybe he had. “We got hot dogs, burgers, steaks, and Carl’s momma’s barbeque ribs. Glen’s bringing the possum with him when he comes.”

  Matt swallowed hard, imagining a mangled creature, fur still on and tire treads across its flattened body. “That all sounds great,” he lied, stepping aside so they could enter. He hoped Andy wouldn’t pick up on the note of disgust in his voice at the thought of eating roadkill.

  Andy nearly keeled over laughing. He slapped Matt on the shoulder with his free hand as he passed. “You should see your face, boy. How backwater do you think we are? Possum. Jesus Christ, Kinsley.”

  Goddamn, he was an idiot. Of course they were joking. “Go on in. Beer’s in the cooler out back. I’ll grab the sides and meet you out there.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Matt watched Andy walk through the house, and as he did, his gaze caught on John, who leaned against the kitchen counter, a bottle of beer in his hand. Christ, he looked good. How suspicious would it be if Matt locked everyone in the backyard and kept John inside for himself? What were the chances people would notice?