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Broken Protocol

Page 21

by A. R. Barley


  “I’m a detective, Charlie, not an asshole. All the work you’re doing on the house. Either you’re getting ready to move or you’re getting ready to die.”

  His foster father sputtered. “I’m not that old.” He plucked his cigarette from his mouth and tapped the ash against the rough brick wall. “You tell Luke?”

  “I figured that was something you’d want to do.” It wasn’t going to be easy. Luke might not spend a lot of time in his basement apartment in Long Island, but it was still technically home. It was where he’d gone back to lick his wounds when Dante broke things off and where he kept the treasures that were too valuable to store anywhere else.

  “Eventually.” Charlie’s face was suddenly serious. “It’d be easier if he moved out first. You know all I want is to see you boys settled? That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Sure you are. Grady says you made a big bust the other day. You caught some kind of gay-basher out in Brooklyn. Between that and all the time you spent undercover, you can name your own assignments. But you can’t stick with a woman for more than a day. You’re never going to give me grandkids. And, what about Luke? He’s still living in my damn basement going out dancing until all hours of the night.”

  “I’m working on it for Luke too.”

  There was a long pause. Charlie peered at him through long gray lashes and dark walnut eyes. He shifted a little bit to look through the window. On the other side of the glass Luke was smiling his soft little half smile. He was still listening to his father’s friends prattle on, but his attention was clearly fixed on the pair standing out on the street.

  Charlie let out a low breath. “It’s like that, is it?”

  There were probably a dozen better ways to tell Charlie that his sons were dating, but Dante just shrugged. “It’s like that.”

  “Hmmph. I never saw that coming.”

  “Hope it’s not too weird.”

  “You ever think maybe people won’t be okay with it?” Charlie asked. “There’s a lot of guys on the force who watched the two of you grow up. They know you’re brothers—you ever think maybe they’ll have a problem with the two of you getting together?”

  Dante had thought of nothing else, every day, for years. That’s why he’d run away. It was why he’d buried himself in his work and avoided too many family dinners to count.

  “It doesn’t matter what they think.” It never had. He’d just been too pigheaded to admit it. “The only one whose opinion matters to me is you.”

  “And if I say that it is too weird? I’m not okay with my two boys making the beast with two backs? That I don’t think you’re right for Luke?”

  “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life doing whatever it takes to prove you wrong.” He couldn’t do anything else. He loved Luke from the tips of his toes to the bottom of his soul, and he was never going to give him up. Not for anything.

  “Good enough.” Charlie tilted his head to the side like one of the dusty pigeons that littered the street. “If you hurt him in any way, I’ll come for you with guns blazing. It’ll make the OK Corral look like a first grade field trip. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Rule number one: Don’t hurt Luke.

  “I got it,” Dante said.

  “Of course, if he does anything to you then it’ll be the same for him. Guns blazing.” Charlie slapped a big hand down on Dante’s shoulder. “Don’t think this gets you off the hook though. I still want grandkids. Lots of them. I don’t care if you foster, adopt, or hire some broad with wide hips. I want to dandle a toddler on my knee again before I get too much older.”

  “One,” Dante negotiated. “Maybe two.” Any more than that and they wouldn’t fit in the apartment in Inwood. He’d reached out to the owner two days earlier to see about buying it, and she’d finally gotten back to him that afternoon. The price was more than he’d hoped and less than he’d expected. If Luke was okay eating at home for the next year or so, Dante might even be able to scrape up the cash for the down payment.

  The door to the bar opened and noise spilled out onto the street. “Come on, you weirdos.” Luke popped out with a smile on his face and eyes gleaming. Damn, he looked good. His clothes were practically formal, a crisp button-down with dove-gray pinstriping, a pair of good jeans, and the supple black leather boots that haunted his jeans. “This party’s for you,” Luke told his father. “The guest of honor can’t keep disappearing and you—” he jammed a finger in Dante’s direction “—stop encouraging him. There are plenty of people inside for both of you to talk about.”

  “They’re all cops,” Charlie complained.

  “You’re both cops.”

  Charlie waved his hands, objecting. “We’re not talking about cop stuff.” He stubbed out his cigarette and went back inside to a fresh round of cheers and “He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.”

  “What were the two of you talking about?” Luke asked.

  “You.” Dante laughed and grabbed Luke by the arm, pulling him in close. “Your dad was saying you haven’t been home in a while. He thinks you’re out dancing until dawn. He’s worried.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Damn straight, but he’s still going to worry.” It was part of being a family. The same way Luke was going to worry when Charlie finally announced that he was going to move out of Long Island. Dante wrapped his arms around Luke’s waist, fitting their bodies together. Luke didn’t smell like oatmeal soap anymore. He smelled like the citrus shower gel they shared and the pepperoni pizza he’d been eating all night. It was absolutely delicious. Dante nuzzled his lips against his neck. “I told him that you’ve been spending time with me.”

  “Did he have anything to say about that?”

  “Yep, he said if you break my heart, he’s going to make you paint the entire house.”

  “He already made me paint the house.”

  “Then he’ll make you do it again,” Dante lied with a song in his heart. “Of course, it might help him worry less if he knew you had someplace permanent to stay in the city.”

  “Someplace permanent.”

  “Yeah.” Dante had made room for Luke’s clothes in his closet and put a box by the door for his collection of knit hats. He’d whispered words of love and adoration to him every night. He hadn’t asked him to move in. Not officially. Not yet. He cleared his throat. “Luke Parsons, I know I’m a sorry son of a bitch—you definitely deserve better—but will you make me the happiest man in the world and move in with me?”

  “And you’re actually going to be there? You’re not going to take an assignment in Guam when things get rough?”

  “I’m never leaving your side.”

  Luke considered for a long moment. Too long. Was he going to say no? Dante’s breath was coming faster. He began to peel himself away from Luke’s body.

  “Yes—” Luke lunged forward, slamming him back against the rough brick wall and pressing their lips together. One of his feet connected with the window to the bar with a thud. There were at least a hundred people inside, all of whom knew Dante and Luke by name. Some of them were family friends. Most of them were cops. A few of them would definitely have a problem with two guys making out in front of their favorite watering hole.

  And Dante couldn’t care less. He was too busy kissing Luke back. Devouring his mouth. Celebrating him with his body. Damn. This was really going to happen. The two of them were going to move in together. He broke away, panting. “This isn’t just for a few weeks or because you need a place to keep your stuff. I’m buying the place. This is forever.”

  “Absolutely.” Luke kissed him again.

  “And we’re not just going to be roommates. We’re dating. We’re committed. It’s too soon now, but in a couple of months I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll say yes.”

>   “And Charlie wants grandkids soon, so that’s something we’re going to need to think about, whether we want to use a surrogate or adopt.” He’d love the kid the same either way.

  Luke’s hands wrapped tight around the back of his neck, holding him in place. His eyes were a bright emerald. His smile practically reached his ears. He laughed. “Dante Green. I love you, but you talk too much.”

  And then they were kissing again.

  They never did make it back to the party. He and Luke had something of their own to celebrate. Dante slipped inside to grab their jackets and wave goodbye to Charlie. They bundled up tight and caught a cab to Inwood. The ride was intense. Their bodies were squeezed together, knee touching knee, thigh touching thigh. Luke’s fingers were woven together with his so tight it almost felt like their bodies might stick that way.

  The stairs to the apartment had never taken so long, but when they finally fumbled their way through the front door they were home.

  “Are you really buying this place?” Luke asked as he dropped his jacket on the floor and tugged his T-shirt off over his head. Damn, he was pretty, all lean lines and taut muscle. Every time Dante saw him naked it was like a little piece of heaven.

  “We’re buying this place. I’m not paying the mortgage by myself.” It was all part of his long-term plan to bind the two of them close together. Moving in together. Marriage. Kids. Eventually they’d grow old together. They’d have gray hair and matching rocking chairs. Grandkids. “Unless you’d rather be close to the firehouse?”

  “Are you kidding? I love this place. Two bedrooms, a real kitchen, a sexy boyfriend. It’s perfect. Besides, my commute’s going to be cut in half.” Luke considered that for a long moment before pulling a face. “It’s going to take me forever to finish Dad’s sweater.”

  “We can move farther away if you like.”

  “Not going to happen. I’m an Inwood resident for life. I’ll get Dyckman and Broadway tattooed on my ass.”

  “That’d be sexy.” Dante stripped off his own clothes and Luke drew in a sharp breath. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who liked to look. Good to know. He flexed his biceps, putting on a little show. Then he turned to show Luke his back.

  “Fuck,” Luke growled. “I’m never going to get sick of those wings.” With one finger he traced the ink that covered Dante’s shoulders. The calluses on his fingertips were like sandpaper, scraping against his skin. Then there was a hot breath against the back of his neck and—fuck. “You know that night with Carl and Tim, I thought you were my guardian angel.”

  Dante laughed as he turned back to push Luke up against the wall, cover his body. “I’m no angel.”

  “No, but you are mine.” Luke’s green eyes glittered, dark with want and need. “And I’m never going to let you go. We’re family.”

  “Family.” A bond stronger than blood and deeper than bone.

  Forever and ever.

  * * * * *

  Look for SHIFT’S END, the next book in the SMOKE & BULLETS series, coming from A.R. Barley and Carina Press in 2018.

  To find out about other books by A.R. Barley or be alerted to new releases, sign up for her newsletter at http://bit.ly/ARBarleyMailingList

  Keep reading for an excerpt from OUT OF BOUNDS by A.R. Barley, now available at all participating e-retailers.

  Chapter One

  The first thing Jesse noticed about his new dorm room was the mess. The place looked like a bomb had gone off. There were clothes everywhere, and towers of books spiraled awkwardly into the distance. A pile of papers had collapsed on the nearest desk, leaving an academic war zone in its place.

  He edged his way in through the door, holding his breath, praying it was all one big mistake. After everything else that had happened to him, the last thing he needed to face was this disaster area.

  Something caught on the toe of his sneaker, trapping him in place, and a rush of anxiety flooded his body. Panic seized him. He couldn’t be trapped. Not now. Not again. His thoughts sizzled and skipped. His lungs screamed for air.

  Jesse opened his mouth to take a breath, mentally steeling himself against the stench that usually came with clothes piled a foot deep and empty plates on the floor.

  But the messy dorm room smelled like chocolate and coffee.

  Jesse took another breath, through his nose this time. The place might not be tidy, but there was no sour stench of sweat or leftover food. It smelled good. Like the kind of place he might look forward to coming back to after a hard day of classes—if he could unearth his bed.

  Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  The hot blond resident assistant had promised he’d like his new dorm. The blond was the one who’d found Jesse on the quad, covered in blood and numb with pain and the cold that came from sitting outside for hours in subzero weather. He was the one who’d given Jesse his sweatshirt and held his hand while they waited for the paramedics. After Jesse had finally been discharged from the hospital, he was the one who’d driven him back to campus, talking the entire time like he was trying to keep the silence from swallowing Jesse whole.

  Some of it had finally sunk in. There was an open bed on the floor in North Dorm where the guy worked. He’d already been in touch with the dean. The transfer had been approved. Jesse’s stuff would be brought over by Maintenance in the morning.

  Jesse had a new place to stay.

  Somewhere warm.

  Someplace safe.

  For a while he’d thought he was imagining things—hallucinating a better end to the night—but it must have been true because here Jesse was on the far side of campus, in a dorm building that was seniors only even though he was just a lowly sophomore.

  He took another breath, allowing the rich coffee scent to envelop him, and tried to look at surroundings barely illuminated by the gray dawn light threading through the window. Underneath the mess, the room was just like the one he’d left the night before—running for the safety of the frozen quad—two beds, two desks, a mini fridge and two wardrobes because Halston University had been too cheap to put in closets when they were building the dorms.

  Of course, his old room had been decorated in coordinated blue and gray, not strewn with fabric in every color in the rainbow. He’d kept his books neatly tucked away in the bookshelf beside his desk. And, on the rare occasion it had ever smelled like anything other than laundry detergent, it had been scented with a sharp spray of Ryan’s cologne—

  Jesse’s mind balked, shying away from thoughts of Ryan.

  That wasn’t his room anymore.

  This was.

  On the bed to his left a pile of fabric rustled, and Jesse’s heart seized. He wasn’t alone. His roommate had to be under there somewhere. His new roommate—not Ryan, he reminded himself, but that didn’t stop the dread from gripping him or the room from spinning.

  He leaned forward, struggling to draw air down into his lungs, concentrating hard on the mess in front of him: a business accounting textbook, a pair of gym shorts and glitter?

  “Who the fuck are you?” a rough voice demanded from under the covers.

  Jesse jolted backward, slamming into a stack of books. His hands rose instinctively to protect himself. His breath was coming faster—too fast—air wasn’t reaching his lungs—

  “Easy,” the voice said again. It was still deep and rough from sleep, but it was less demanding this time. “Easy, kid. I just asked you a question.”

  “I’m your new—” Roommate. Jesse couldn’t even get the word out. His hands fluttered awkwardly. He tried again. “I have a key.” He dug into his pocket, pulling out the bit of metal and holding it in front of himself like a talisman.

  “Fucking Kelly.” The voice was like dark velvet, husky and soft. “That asshole stick you in here?”

  Kelly had to be the blond RA. “He said there was an extra bed.”
r />   There was a long pause, then a grunt. “Fuck, it’s early.” The guy groaned and the bedcovers moved a second time. “You want me to clear my shit off the bed?”

  “No,” Jesse squeaked, hurrying over to the right side of the room before the man could get the covers off and stand up. The spare bed was on the opposite side of the room, covered in blankets and sheets. “Where do you want me to put everything?”

  “Throw it on the floor.”

  Jesse couldn’t do that. His new acquaintance—he needed to be able to say the word roommate—was clearly using the space as a linen cabinet. He folded everything neatly and placed it on the desk beside the window.

  The covers on the other bed didn’t move once. If the guy tried to get up then Jesse didn’t know what he’d do—probably run—but the body on the bed didn’t appear interested in helping.

  When everything was finally put away, Jesse climbed up onto his new bed—fully clothed with only his borrowed sweatshirt as a pillow—waiting for him to say something...anything.

  All he heard was the deep breathing of a man who needed to catch a few more hours’ sleep.

  A man who clearly didn’t give a damn why he’d been stuck with a new roommate in the middle of the semester.

  That kind of disinterest was almost reassuring.

  At least that’s what Jesse tried to convince himself before finally...eventually...falling asleep.

  * * *

  The kid was still sleeping when Nick left the dorm room. His body was curled in protectively on itself; his hands were clutched around the sweatshirt he was using as a pillow. His face was pale from the cold. Nick would have tossed a blanket over him, but—even sleeping—his new roommate looked like he’d jump out of his skin if anyone made a sudden move.

  Instead, he went to find Kelly, the Satan-spawned residential assistant who’d convinced him to live on campus senior year. Of course, that was back when Nick had thought there might be more to Kelly than a big dick and a controlling personality.

  Back when he’d thought the two of them had a chance at a real relationship.

 

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