Nash

by Lynn Hagen

“Now is not the time to get your ego stroked.” Layne clenched his teeth when Keller stuck a needle into his shoulder. “You bastard! I’m already in enough pain.”

  “Local anesthesia.” Keller pulled the syringe away and took out another tool before he started digging into Layne’s shoulder. “Usually I wait for it to take effect, but I want to get this bullet out. I don’t need your blood pressure dropping or for you to lose any more blood than you already have.”

  “Please don’t give me play-by-play details,” Layne said. “Just do what you do. I don’t want to know.”

  Nash pressed his hand to Layne’s cheek and turned his head so that Layne was looking at him. “We need to think of names for the baby.”

  “We need to get this bullet out of me and catch the crazy asshole, and then we can think about names.”

  “What’s your favorite color?” Nash asked.

  “Huh?” Layne winced and wanted to slug Keller when a shot of pain sliced through him.

  “Your favorite color?”

  “I don’t have one,” Layne said. “At the moment it definitely isn’t red.”

  Nash grinned, although Layne saw the worry in his gray eyes. “I like dark green, but I’m partial to blue. The same color as your eyes.”

  Layne had gotten them from his grandmother. Not literally, because that would’ve been creepy. Inherited. That was the word. Layne was in so much pain that it was hard to think.

  “What’ve you been doing for the past ten years?” Nash squeezed Layne’s hand tighter.

  “Pining for you,” Layne admitted. “Dating average men who didn’t live up to your image.”

  “Seriously?” Nash’s brows shot up as his features softened. “Wow, I’m flattered, kitten.”

  “No, I’m just pathetic,” Layne whined, wishing Keller would hurry up and dig the bullet out. He felt lightheaded and nauseous and prayed he didn’t throw up on anyone.

  “I wish I’d noticed you back then.” Nash brushed the sweaty hair from Layne’s forehead. “I could’ve used that adoration. It might’ve stopped me from feeling so damn lost all these years.”

  Layne noticed how Keller looked at Nash, as if surprised by that revelation. The guy needed to keep his damn attention on Layne’s wound. Keller could be surprised later.

  “Almost there,” Keller said. “Just bear with me a moment longer.”

  Layne tasted metal in his mouth and knew he was gonna hurl. He jerked his head away from his wound but didn’t have time to shout a warning.

  There went his dinner.

  Nash jumped back but didn’t let Layne’s hand go. Layne had made a mess of his mate’s shirt and the table.

  “No worries.” Nash smiled gently at him. “That’s why god invented washers.”

  “Got it,” Keller said. “Now I just need to stitch you up.”

  Layne’s shoulder had grown numb. He wasn’t sure if it was because of all the digging or if the anesthesia had finally kicked in, but he was thankful, although there was still a great amount of pressure at his shoulder.

  “You’re doing great,” Nash said. He kissed Layne’s hand. He didn’t blame Nash. Layne’s breath was too damn funky to chance a kiss on the lips. “I’m so damn proud of you for staying so strong right now.”

  Layne didn’t feel strong. He was afraid and holding back a flood of tears.

  Quinn and Noman returned, shaking their heads. Fire ignited in Nash’s eyes, but he didn’t say a word. He kept his attention on Layne as Keller finished up. Layne kept his attention on Nash so he wouldn’t look at Nomad’s nudity.

  It was tempting, though. Because, damn, Nomad was built like a freaking god. Shit. Layne was blushing, and he prayed Nash didn’t know why.

  Quinn left the room and returned with a wet cloth. Nash used it to clean Layne’s chest while Nomad ran upstairs. He came back fully dressed. Layne had been robbed of a sneak peek at his junk.

  Maybe that was for the best.

  “I’m gonna talk to my brothers while Keller finishes with you. Is that okay?”

  Layne was surrounded by lethal men. He didn’t want to seem like a complete wuss. He let Nash’s hand go and nodded. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ll just hang out here and shoot the breeze with Keller.”

  Keller smiled. “Regardless of what others think, I do have a sparkling personality. I just don’t show it around these clowns.”

  Nash, Quinn, and Nomad moved across the room. Layne tried to eavesdrop, but their voices were too low.

  “I’m known for my amazing skills at stitching,” Keller said, drawing Layne’s attention back to him. “Sorry, but you won’t have a wicked scar to impress anyone with.”

  That got a laugh out of Layne. “Damn, no prison stories where I was shanked?”

  “Nope. Sorry. Besides, I highly doubt anyone would believe such a nice guy like you went to prison.” He leaned down and whispered, “Thanks for being what Nash needs.”

  Layne wasn’t sure that was true, but he smiled.

  “All done,” Keller announced. “I’ll start you on antibiotics to make sure no infection takes place.”

  “Thanks.” Layne squeezed Keller’s arm.

  Nash came back and scooped Layne off the table and carried him upstairs. From the expression on his handsome face, he was barely containing his anger.

  “Was it your friend?”

  Nash shrugged. “The shooter was gone before Quinn and Hayward could find him.”

  “How many enemies do you have that you’re not sure your friend was the guy? Do you have that many people gunning for you?” Layne regretted what he’d said as soon as he’d said it. Pain entered Nash’s eyes as he walked into their bedroom.

  “You never know what someone is harboring in their heart until they come after you. Rawlings might not be the only one who resents me. The men that died had family, and any one of them might want revenge for their loss.”

  Layne’s shoulder was painful, but he hugged Nash anyway. Some discomfort was worth it. Nash stood in the middle of the room, holding him, letting Layne hold him right back.

  After a long moment Nash cleared his throat, and Layne let him go. “You need your rest.”

  “And you want me to fall asleep so you can hunt Rawlings down. Am I right?”

  Nash didn’t answer him, and that was its own answer. Layne wanted to talk him out of going after Rawlings, but the resolute look in Nash’s eyes told him that his words would fall on deaf ears.

  Of course he was worried for Nash. This was the love of his life, and they were just getting started. Layne didn’t want anything happening to him. “Please be careful,” he said when Nash laid him on the bed.

  “I’m always careful.” Nash kissed his cheek and walked out.

  Layne pressed his hand against his stomach and prayed that wasn’t the last time he saw him.

  Chapter Nine

  Nash should’ve never agreed to the walk. What in the fuck had he been thinking? Rawlings had just left his dog tags by the back door, and Nash had walked Layne out the front. That had been the stupidest move Nash had ever made, and it had nearly cost Layne his life.

  “You’re not going alone,” Hayward said as he caught up to Nash outside. “You need someone to watch your six.”

  Hayward was right, but Nash wasn’t thinking clearly right now. He’d promised he’d tried to talk to Rawlings when they finally saw each other, but Rawlings had crossed a line he couldn’t come back from. Nash wanted the bastard dead now.

  It was one thing to come after Nash. He would’ve accepted that. It was no less than he deserved. Taking a bullet might’ve alleviated the burning guilt inside him. He still dreamed of the other men’s faces, heard their laughter, and saw their smiles. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to sleep without dreaming about them.

  Rawlings wasn’t the only one dealing with survivor’s guilt. Still, that hadn’t given him an excuse to shoot an innocent person.

  As soon as Nash hit the backyard, he shifted and tried to pick up Rawling
s’ scent. In the back of his mind he knew it was futile—because Hayward and Quinn had already tried to track Rawlings down—but Nash had to hunt. He had to try and find Rawlings because there was too much rage inside him to just sit around.

  He had no doubt Keller and Quinn would keep Layne safe while Nash tried to hunt Rawlings down. Nash kept his head on a swivel as he climbed a tree and used the thick branches for sight as Hayward, who’d shifted, searched on the ground for scent.

  An hour later and Nash hadn’t sighted Rawlings. Frustrated didn’t even being to describe how he felt. He’d screwed up a lot of things in life, but he was determined not to screw up his relationship. Keeping Layne safe and happy was his only goal, as well was protecting not only his mate but his unborn child.

  This was something that Nash couldn’t fail at. Not when so much was at stake. He would find Rawlings, and when he did, the bastard would wish he’d never been born.

  * * * *

  For the next week Nash stayed by Layne’s side, but Layne could tell his mate was edgy and restless. Nash played it off, though. As best he could, anyway. Layne was starting to learn his mate’s ways, his facial expressions, and his moods.

  Most of the time Nash smiled, even though that smile didn’t reach his gray eyes. Layne appreciated his efforts, though he knew Nash wanted to hunt Rawlings down and kill the guy.

  This was one time Layne wouldn’t argue with his subconscious and morals. Rawlings was a dangerous man who needed to be stopped before his next bullet ended someone.

  Nash called a family meeting, making sure Layne was a part of it when he told his brothers his plans to buy Beatrice’s house. It really was a lovely home, huge, with enough room to raise a family. With a few minor changes, Layne would love to live there.

  “You don’t have to buy it,” Keller insisted. “It’s already paid off. We’ll just transfer the deed to your name.”

  Quinn shrugged. “I was kind of thinking about sticking around for a bit. I’d rather stay here where I can help out than get a place of my own.”

  “I’m in no rush,” Nomad said. “Been meaning to take a vacation for a while now.”

  Of all the brothers to stay, Nomad wouldn’t have been Layne’s first choice. Sure, he’d saved Layne that night in the kitchen, but Nomad still scared him. He always looked so intense, like he was contemplating his next kill.

  Not that he’d killed anyone, but he just had that expression all the time. Layne didn’t trust quiet people, either. You never knew what diabolical shit was on their mind. For all he knew Nomad was trying to figure out Layne’s measurements to fit a hole the guy had already dug in the backyard.

  “I wish I could stay,” Keller said. “But I have a life to get back to. I’ve been gone for far too long already.”

  Layne didn’t want the family doctor to leave. What if something happened and Layne needed him? As far as he knew, the town doctor knew nothing of the panthers that lived right under his nose. What if something went wrong with the birth, or god forbid, Layne got shot again.

  “I’ll be leaving this weekend,” Keller said before he walked out of the living room.

  “How about we put the house in all our names?” Quinn asked. “It seems only fair.”

  “We can do that.” Nash was seated next to Layne on the couch, but Nash reached over and hauled him onto his lap. Layne was embarrassed because his brothers were in the room, but he was also thrilled that Nash wanted him that close.

  A thought occurred to Layne as he looked at all of them. “No one told my parents about me getting shot, did they?”

  They would’ve rushed over if they had, but Layne had to make sure. He didn’t want them to worry about him. So far they’d given Layne distance knowing he was newly mated to Nash, but sooner or later, they would barge back into his life, and Layne didn’t want it to be because they feared for his safety.

  His dad would snatch him away and make Layne move back home if he thought Nash wasn’t taking care of him. His dad would try, but Layne doubted Nash would let him, which would turn into an ugly mess.

  “We know better,” Nomad said.

  “I like your folks,” Quinn said, “but I don’t want them all up in our business.”

  Keller had done a great job of patching Layne up, but it still hurt like the dickens. He rubbed his shoulder and winced. Nash looked at him with concern in his eyes, caressing his hand down Layne’s side.

  “Need anything?”

  He loved how attentive Nash was being. Layne’s dream had come true, but it was also annoying since his mate seemed to hover a lot. Nash was there when Layne was getting sick in the mornings and catering to his every craving. Any little grimace from Layne and Nash looked as though he were about to go into a panic.

  With a smile Layne got up and left the room. He needed breathing room, and he was thirsty. Why wasn’t he surprised that Nash followed him? Layne was mad, glad, and angry all at the same time as he whirled on his mate. “Can I have five seconds to myself?”

  And now Layne wanted to cry. What in the hell was wrong with him? He’d never been this emotionally conflicted before. Not like this. Not with all his emotions hitting him at once.

  As Nash silently watched him, Layne grabbed a tub of ice cream from the freezer. He began to cry over the strawberry deliciousness as he dug his spoon into it.

  “Layne.”

  “No, I’m okay. I’m just mourning the strawberries that gave their lives for this ice cream.” Layne started laughing. That had been so ridiculous that it was funny.

  Nash leaned against the counter, his arms folded, his gray eyes watchful as if Layne would burst into song and dance while shooting up the house.

  After licking the spoon, Layne pointed it at Nash. “You need to find your friend so you can deal with this. I’m tired of seeing you on edge all the time. It makes me on edge, too.”

  The ice cream no longer appealed to him. Layne set it in the sink, the full gallon. Wasteful, but he wasn’t thinking clearly. He wanted to be curled in Nash’s strong arms and, at the same time, tell him to get lost.

  Layne also wanted his mom. She would hug him and tell him everything was okay, and plus, he needed to tell her that he was pregnant.

  Pregnant.

  Laughter bubbled up his throat again. Layne’s emotional rollercoaster was getting out of control, and he wanted off the damn ride. He didn’t even protest when Nash scooped him up and carried him to their bedroom.

  “I think I might be going crazy.” He sure as hell felt like it. Only now horny had been added to his emotional overload.

  “I think you’re perfectly fine, sweetheart.” Nash’s smile was devastating to Layne’s senses. He was all dark looks and handsomeness that Layne couldn’t resist.

  When Nash placed him on the bed, he kissed Layne’s stomach then his cheek. “You need to get some rest, kitten.”

  When he tried to pull away, Layne grabbed his arm and yanked him close. “What I need is some dick.”

  Nash peeled Layne’s fingers off his bicep. He looked as though he would leave, but he stopped at the door and closed it. Layne’s heart skipped a beat as he wiggled out of his clothes. Thank fuck he wasn’t further along because he had a feeling getting undressed this quickly wasn’t in his near future.

  Layne’s lungs locked up when Nash walked back over to him, completely naked, his body so tempting that Layne thought he would come before anything got started.

  The back of Nash’s knuckles grazed over Layne’s wound, and his eyes grew soft. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

  Layne felt breathy and sweaty. “Can we compare scars later?”

  “Who said anything about comparing?” Nash’s voice was all deep and growly. His cock was hard and jutting. Layne scooted back like he was running away. Nash caught him and pinned him on his back.

  The sexy motherfucker. Oh my god. Layne’s skin tingled, and his hole pulsed. “You got me. Now what’re you gonna do with me?”

  “I’m gonna lick you
like a bowl of cream.”

  Layne arched a brow. “You are aware that milk is bad for cats, right?”

  His sassy words were forgotten when Nash swallowed Layne’s cock. Baby Jesus, help me. The man was about to suck Layne’s intelligence right out.

  Then Nash purred, the sound vibrating down Layne’s cock. Layne gasped and groaned, bucking as Nash’s wicked lips tortured him. His mate’s tongue was doing this thing, and Layne was willing to bet Nash was one of those guys that could tie a knot with a cherry stem.

  Layne would have to find out later. Right now he was calling God’s name and thrashing around as Nash wet a finger and slid it into his ass.

  Game over. Layne sucked in a deep breath, hissed the air out, and came so hard his freaking balls ached.

  “Lord Jesus on a cracker!” Layne collapsed against the bed as Nash kissed his way up Layne’s body and grinned.

  “You get very religious during sex.”

  Layne mugged Nash’s face. “Shut it.”

  He laughed. Layne chuckled. Nash captured his lips with a slow-burning kiss, once again melting Layne’s brain. He hooked his legs around his mate’s powerful waist and prayed this moment never ended. Nash kissed Layne as if he meant the world to him, touching Layne tenderly and pulling him even closer.

  Layne was losing it, loving it, his breath labored as Nash’s natural lube coated his hole. Layne moaned into his mate’s mouth as Nash inched his cock inside his body.

  How could anyone survive such passion? It consumed Layne as Nash stretched his hole with his length. Layne curled his arms around Nash, clinging to him, digging his nails into the guy’s back.

  Nash nuzzled Layne’s neck and nipped his skin, sending rippling pleasure through him.

  “I love you,” Layne gasped, and Nash lifted his head, allowing him to stare into those beautiful gray eyes. This close Layne saw they had flecks of gold and brown in them. They were normally light, but right now, the gray was as dark as rolling thunderclouds.

  Nash punched his hips forward, their gazes locked.

  “I love you, too.”

  Those words shot Layne to the moon. Nash picked up his pace, thrusting hard and deep, and when he sank his canines into Layne’s shoulder, Layne shattered and cried out his mate’s name. Nash came the same time he did, his purrs rumbled deep in his chest.