by Willa Okati
“Tell your knuckles that when they bruise.” Dennis oriented himself toward his front room, where he could better hear the low rumble of Cade and his brothers talking on his balcony. Not quite eavesdropping, but better than blank guessing. “Help me finish clearing the den. That is what you came for, after all.”
“Originally.”
Ivan fell quiet then. Dennis mentally wagered the silence would only last a few minutes, if that. He started a silent countdown as he folded the drop cloths Ivan passed him and tried to listen in to the quiet conversation on the balcony. He still couldn’t pick out one word in three of what Cade was saying. Robbie’s baritone blurred into a rumbling like a truck rolling over gravel, and had a white-noise effect on his brother’s lighter tenor.
“You look like you’ve gone through the wringer and back again,” Ivan said at last, disrupting his focus.
Not a bad opening gambit, and also an accurate one. Dennis acknowledged the sally with a quiet grunt and carried on with his folding. He kept one ear open for Cade. Couldn’t seem to help himself.
Ivan tried again. “Somebody made a hell of a mess with your stereo system. Looks like house elves were playing Twister with the wires attached to their ankles.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Dennis turned to address the setup. Yikes. Ivan hadn’t exaggerated. “Swell. There’s not much worse than tangled power cords. I know what you’re thinking, Ivan. I can feel the overprotective, worried vibes like a corduroy cape. We’re marked. Not much I can do about it.” Even if I wanted to. “He doesn’t match the stories you told about the trouble he gets himself in. He’s not exactly a model of propriety, but neither am I. He seems all right to me.”
Ivan ambled up to lend a hand with the wires. Though Dennis didn’t need the help, he decided he might as well indulge the man, and Ivan did have a gift for cutting to the heart of things.
“Well… Cade’s a manchild,” Ivan said. “And he’s wild. Always rebelling. Always getting into trouble.”
Dennis made a noncommittal noise in the back of his mouth. “And?”
“And maybe that’s partly my fault,” Ivan said. “I don’t know. Feels like it could have been. He saw me and Robbie break each other to pieces when he was at the right age for that sort of thing to leave a lasting impression. But whether it is or isn’t my fault, he’s still a handful, Dennis.”
Yes, he was, and Dennis’ palms tingled with the sense memory. “I can take care of myself, you know.”
“Of course. But do you want to take care of Cade, too?” Ivan let go of the wires. He wouldn’t be so easily distracted, then. “I’m not saying ‘No, don’t, run away’. I am saying ‘Be careful’. I know as well as anyone that the way you handle finding a mate makes all the difference in the world. There’s so much I wish I’d done differently. If I had to have made mistakes, then at least maybe someone could learn from them.”
“Mmm,” Dennis vocalized. He saw the sense in what Ivan said. Truly, he did. He didn’t know Cade well enough to gauge how much of it came from personal prejudice, and how much might be the truth. “I haven’t made up my mind yet, and that’s the truth, but he seems like a good fit. I wouldn’t mind so much having a mate like him, if he—”
So far, Dennis hadn’t picked up much in the way of discourse from the balcony. But now, clear as a bell, came the words— “I don’t want a mate. Not even Dennis. I mean that, Robbie. Leave it.”
After that, silence.
Well then. Dennis bit the inside of his cheek. Deliberately, very deliberately, he crouched to find the wires and neatened them with quick whips of the wrist.
“See?” Ivan asked with a groan. “Trouble. Exactly what I was hoping wouldn’t happen.”
Dennis could have said the same thing. He didn’t. He wound the cords and wires into a neat figure eight loop around his hand and wrist, each one as neat and tight as if it’d just come out of the box. Maybe too neat and too tight. Not that it mattered.
Why should it matter, anyway?
Something of how deeply—unexpectedly marrow-deep—that’d cut must have shown in his face. Ivan sighed. “Dennis…”
“No,” Dennis said, still calm. “It’s all right. Better I know that now.” It wasn’t as if he’d been unaware before. He’d never wanted a mate before, either. Cade hadn’t changed his mind? Fine. Dennis wouldn’t, either. He’d be fine on his own. He’d make do.
“Now hang on a minute,” Ivan said. He tried to step in front of Dennis as Dennis turned. Probably thinking Dennis meant to make for the balcony. “I never told you to pretend it hadn’t happened.”
Fine choice of words. Dennis snorted. “I know you didn’t. But if that’s his choice, then I’ll abide by it. He has his life, Ivan. I have mine. Maybe it’ll even be for the best.”
Ivan said nothing. Dennis could feel the shift in his mood from argumentative to confounded.
More, he could feel Cade’s regard. He knew he’d been heard? So be it. Dennis heard him shift his weight, and could imagine a wealth of rueful regret in that stance.
He laid the wires aside, and raised his voice to make sure Cade could hear him. To be certain he’d understand Dennis would let them both off the hook. “It’s all right, Cade,” he said. “You know as well as I do that I never wanted a mate any more than you did. Pretending was fun, for an hour or two, but we’re living in the real world.”
Dennis chose to ignore the sound of an elbow thwacking into Cade’s ribs. Aside from a grunt, Cade did him the courtesy of pretending it hadn’t happened. Dennis liked that. Hell, maybe they could be friends. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? He’d have to see about hanging out with the guy—after he came back from Key West.
“You’re sure?” Cade asked after the silence became almost too heavy and awkward to bear.
Dennis’ heart softened toward him. He hadn’t asked for this either. “I’m sure. Now. How about some breakfast?”
Cade hesitated almost too long before he replied, but when he did, he sounded like the cocky fellow who’d crashed Dennis’ party without a morsel of regret. “I could do breakfast. How are you at scrambling eggs?”
Dennis let out a breath. “Not bad. Come and judge for yourself.”
Very deliberately, he ignored Nathaniel’s small, despairing groan and led the way to the kitchen himself.
* * * *
All right, then. It might have felt like a slap, but if this was how Dennis wanted to play it, then Cade would take the cards he’d been dealt. He’d known better than to think he could have the romance of the century.
No, this arrangement would prove far better for both of them. They’d satisfied the demands of their mating bond. Might have a little extra lust left over, but Cade and his right hand had a steady working relationship. They’d be fine without living in one another’s pockets.
Hell, they might follow through on their intentions and actually become friends.
Cade watched Dennis stirring a skillet of creamy-silky scrambled eggs before layering them with thickly sliced bacon on toast golden with butter, and stubbornly ignoring the fact that it wasn’t yet four in the morning. The man had spunk and style, and even pizazz.
Friends. Cade thought he’d like that.
He became sure of it when Dennis rapped Ivan’s knuckles with a wooden spoon. “Stop flinching and giving me those mournful looks, okay? It’s not the end of the world. Let us handle the situation ourselves, please and thank you.”
Cade chuckled, and did his part by ignoring Nathaniel’s sad-eyed looks as well as Robbie’s deepening frown of disapproval. Knowing how to let those slide right off his back had served him pretty well over the years, and he didn’t see any reason to stop working the mojo now.
Spooning one last bite of eggs in, he pushed away from the kitchen counters where they’d all eaten picnic-style. “Nathaniel, you want a lift home?”
“I might.” Nathaniel patted his pockets, concern growing in the set of his mouth and the speed of his search. “Do you see my phone a
nywhere?”
Dennis raised one eyebrow. “What model do you have?”
“Oh gosh, I don’t remember that. Cade, do you know?”
Cade frowned. Something about Nathaniel’s upset didn’t quite sit right, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what. “You had it in the sunroom. I’ll bet it’s still there.”
“I didn’t see him put it down,” Robbie said. “Did you?”
They were up to something. Cade would bet his last dollar on that. He leaned out of the kitchen, craning his neck to scan the tables and shelves jammed with potted plants. “It’s right there, next to the whatchamacallit. The sage. Problem solved.”
“Would you mind grabbing it for me?”
Cade started to object. Honest, he did. He stopped when it occurred to him—a free crack at Nathaniel’s phone? The one with the name and address of his soulmate?
He shot Nathaniel a wary stare. Are you serious?
Nathaniel didn’t seem to notice as he carried his plate, as well as Robbie and Ivan’s, to the sink. Cade noticed that Robbie and Ivan, as well as himself, watched Nathaniel with matching frowns as he rolled up his sleeves and reached for a bottle of dish soap. “Cade?” he prompted. “You grab my phone, I’ll handle these, and we’ll go. Promise.”
“You don’t have to do the dishes,” Dennis said. He didn’t hit Nathaniel with his spoon, but Cade had a feeling that he’d seriously considered the option.
Robbie shook his head. “It’s not personal. Nathaniel would fret himself sick if he wasn’t a good guest. Telling him no is like stepping on a puppy. I can’t do it.”
Cade watched Dennis roll his eyes. “For heaven’s sakes. Fine. I’ll go get the phone. I know where the sage is.”
Which would be fine, only— “I said I’d get it,” Cade objected, trying to step in front of Dennis. He tripped over his feet halfway through the living room, but recovered from his fumble and hopped into the greenhouse.
Dennis didn’t stop either. “My house, my rules.”
“My brother,” Cade argued. He made a dive for the planter. Ha ha! Safe!
Dennis stood over him, shaking his head. A hint of a grin tugged at his lips. “My God, you are ridiculous. What’s so important about this phone?”
“Nothing as such,” Nathaniel said behind Dennis. “But as I was hoping, curiosity killed the cat.”
And with that, he swung the sunroom door firmly closed.
Chapter Six
Nathaniel’s little trick didn’t quite take Cade by surprise—or so Cade vowed he’d swear even if a questioner held a gun to his head. He did, however, have enough of the advantage to swing the door shut one step ahead of Cade, with the end result of his sliding the lock home while Cade braked to avoid bashing his nose flat.
Cade pounded the door with his fist instead. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Nathaniel said, only slightly muffled by the barrier between them. “If I promised I was sorry, would that help?”
“Not a prayer.”
“Then it’s just as well I’m not sorry.”
Cade stole a glance over his shoulder. Dennis had turned to gently bang his head against the wall. Great. Super. Swell, and even peachy.
“You realize I have your phone out here,” he shouted. “‘All your privacy are belong to me.’”
“Should have known you’d be a meme guy,” Dennis muttered. “Moon Moon.”
“Such wow, many smart,” Cade shot back. “Honey badger don’t care.”
Geekery didn’t bother him, especially when Dennis cracked a grin at that.
What did get right up his nose was the severe lack of dignity, and a growing frustration with doors. He’d never be able to look his Morrissey poster in the face again. He rattled the knob, which clattered heartily but didn’t budge the sturdy lock. “Nathaniel, I swear by all the liquor in the cabinets, if you don’t let us out now—”
“All right, now, enough of that,” Robbie rumbled outside. Cade two-stepped back, fast. He’d seen Robbie tear phone books in half. The man had serious arm strength.
And a twisted sense of humor. He banged the door once, only once, and half-heartedly. “Damn. I think it’s jammed,” he said, his robot impression somewhat marred by the occasional snicker. “Too bad.”
Cade raised his eyes to the heavens. Behind him, Dennis sighed.
“Exactly what are you trying to accomplish here?” Cade demanded. “Anyone? Don’t all speak at once.”
Nathaniel was the one to answer. “Accomplish something, us? Heavens, no. But don’t worry. We’ll get you out. There must be a twenty-four hour locksmith somewhere in the city.”
“They are serious,” Dennis said blankly. “Are all your family insane?”
“Yes,” Cade replied.
“I think I know of one.” Ivan chose that moment to add his two cents. “They might be out of business, but we can go and check. Never know unless you try, right?”
“Ivan, I will murder you,” Dennis growled.
Not that it helped. Ivan thumped the door with far too much cheer for three in the morning. “Sit tight, guys. We’ll be back in an hour. Maybe two. At least by dawn.”
“Murder. In cold blood.”
“I’ll bring you back some coffee,” Nathaniel promised. “You can use the phone in case of emergencies, but it’s not actually mine. It only looks like mine. Sorry.”
Cade’s jaw dropped. “Why, you— You tricked me?”
No answer came but the sound of feet in sturdy shoes, boots and sneakers thump-padding away. Leaving Cade alone with his mate, and absolutely nothing else to do except face one another.
Dennis had dropped his head into his hands, and started making muffled noises. Not groans of frustration. Not even stifled curses. More like desperate attempts to swallow laughter.
But to be sure… “Are you all right?” Cade asked.
“The bastards,” Dennis said. When he looked up, Cade saw amazement mingled with reluctant admiration written on his face. “Do you believe the nerve of them?”
Cade fought, mostly unsuccessfully, to hide the twitching of his own lips. If he —Cade—had pulled the prank on someone else, he would have counted it his finest hour. “I grew up with them, remember? Considering what they could have done, I’d say we’re getting off light. Even so, mind if I help you with that murdering business?”
“Not at all,” Dennis said. “I’ll bring the ropes, you bring the knives.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” The door rattled—likely from a good sturdy kick, Dennis judged. “Mind if I sit, too? God knows how long it’ll be before they come back and let us out.”
Dennis didn’t mind at all. “Help yourself. In fact, I think I’ll join you. Mi casa es su casa. ”
“Very kind.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Dennis checked to be sure no one had moved any of the tables laden with potted plants, and was satisfied that the open space in the middle had remained unmolested by any party-goers. When he and Cade sat, their ankles knocked one against the other. Dennis gave him a light kick, the equivalent of a love tap. “You really think they’ll leave us in here?”
Cade returned the kick, easy and playful. “Without a doubt. Until when? No idea. If Robbie was the one in charge, I’d say fifteen minutes at the most, but I’ll bet you Nathaniel’s the mastermind behind this. It smells like his work, and he’s nowhere near the pushover Robbie is.”
“The guy who sounds about six feet tall and is, as far as I could tell, built like a linebacker?” Dennis asked, curious.
“One and the same.”
Dennis sighed, and stretched his arms over his head. “Figures. Although I’ll bet you Ivan’s still out there. Him, leave you utterly alone with me? I doubt it.”
“Sounds like him.” Cade made a grumbling, disgruntled sound. Funny thing about body language, though. He slipped one foot between Dennis’ ankles and left it there, idly kicking back and forth with him. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. And I don’t
say that often.”
Dennis frowned. “What are you sorry for?”
Cade’s aura prickled with confusion. “For mostly everything, I guess? You told me yourself that you didn’t want a soulmate. I started to assume. I do that. Should have told you to swat me with a rolled-up newspaper if I was getting out of control.”
“Your mouth is moving, and words are coming out, but they’re still not making any sense.” Dennis bent at the waist to lean forward and catch Cade’s fidgety foot by the ankle. He used the handhold to pull himself forward, scooting across the floor. “Try again. This time using words that are meant to go together.”
Cade took Dennis’ wrist and held him there. He’d gone about halfway, so their legs bracketed one another. His knees rested by Dennis’, strong and lean. Not knobby. Actually rather nice, as such things went. “You don’t want a soulmate,” he said. “And you ended up stuck with me.”
Nope, still wasn’t helping. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want a soulmate,” Dennis reminded him. He drew his eyebrows together. “I heard you just now, when you were talking to Robbie. I know you meant for me to hear.”
“I said it so you wouldn’t feel tied down!”
“And it’s not the truth?” Dennis demanded.
Cade made a frustrated noise and tapped a staccato rhythm on Dennis’ wrist. “Right. Wipe the slate clean. We both said it, back at the beginning, and I know we both meant it.”
“But that was at the beginning. I thought…” Dennis sighed and sat back, letting go of Cade to prop himself on his arms. “Stupid of me, I guess. I thought you’d started to change your mind.”
“I did,” Cade said after a pause that smacked of surprise. “That’s why… You know. I thought you hadn’t.”
“Was that why—?”
“It wasn’t, for you?”
Dennis groaned. He pulled himself upright, reaching for Cade’s wrist—or ankle, either would do—and got lucky by catching his hands. “You are so incredibly frustrating.”
“Yeah, well.” Cade toyed with Dennis’ fingers. “And you’re not?”