Lachlan Carter joined the cast as the new chief of police. He was only a few years older than I was, and his character was supposed to be some hotshot transfer from another precinct. He and Murphy Rourke, Lucas’s character, were written to be at odds with each other pretty much the entire time. And considering the way that Lachlan eyed Aaron, I didn’t think it was going to be difficult for Lucas to play that with believability. Of course, he made a pass at me, too. And Mary Alice as well. Lachlan had a reputation of fucking anyone that caught his fancy, so even if I hadn’t been semi-committed to Vincent and half-way in the closet, I wouldn’t have taken him up on his come-hither looks.
Because it didn’t matter to me that Vincent and I had never had that conversation. My heart was engaged, at least a little, and I couldn’t bring myself to hook-up with anyone else while we were doing whatever it was we were doing. The same didn’t apply to Vincent, and even though it felt like a stab in the gut whenever I thought of him being with someone else, I tried not to dwell on it. I didn’t know if he was or not, and it wasn’t my place to question him about it. He could do whatever he wanted. It was my choice not to go looking for pleasure elsewhere.
Filming television never had a real routine, and things could change at the drop of a hat, but I was used to the unsteady rhythm of it. It helped to keep my mind occupied. There was a part of me anticipating Vincent’s return, and though I tried not to think about it too much, the closer it got, the bigger the feeling became. Yes, I wanted to kiss and touch him. I wanted him to fuck me hard and leave me sated. But I also wanted to see his face light up with that gorgeous smile, and hear that deep and sexy laugh. I wanted him to tell me stories about what he’d been doing, because I loved how animated he got when he was passionate.
I sighed heavily at the thought. If we spent more time together, I could easily fall for him. I needed to keep my emotions in check. Because if I wasn’t careful, I’d get hurt.
With an entire week off between shooting the second-to-last episode and the finale, I’d spent the time doing a few chores I’d been putting off. I also slept a lot, and ate too much pizza. But now that the week was drawing to a close, I was getting bored. I didn’t know what I was going to do for hiatus. Sometimes I signed on to film a movie, and occasionally I went on an extended vacation. But I hadn’t booked anything either way this time around. My mother had been angling for me to go home for a while, but I’d avoided her calls. If I headed back to L.A. to see her, she’d find tons of things she just had to have and I would need to buy.
She hadn’t been able to make it in the acting business, which is why she’d pushed her son into it in the first place.
I shouldn’t resent her for it, because I loved what I did, but there were times when all I could remember was how it had been her choice and her idea. How all she wanted was for me to make piles of money so she could live the life of the rich and famous. I loved her, but she could be very selfish, and I’d finally come to a point in my life where I was able to say no to her.
Or failing that, make plausible excuses so I could avoid her.
It made me think of Vincent’s mother, and how he was paying for her care even though she’d cut him out of her life so long ago. At least I was certain that if I told my mother I was gay, she wouldn’t disown me. Instead, she’d probably be thrilled to be the mother of a novelty, and book any number of talk shows to gossip about it.
I huffed out a breath and stood, then walked toward the window and pushed it open. It was a rare bright, sunshiny day in Seattle. There wasn’t even a hint of dampness in the air. I took a deep breath, then another, letting them out slowly, and with them, the negative thoughts. I could take a few weeks off to bum around my house and maybe book a trip to bake in the sun on some Caribbean island. I had three months before we came back to film season six. It was plenty of time to both relax and have fun.
The unfamiliar ringtone surprised me, and I turned quickly to grab my cell from the coffee table to see who was calling. Everyone I knew who actually called had their own tone, and this was the generic ring. Probably some telemarketer who had no idea who they were calling.
My breath stuttered in my lungs and a smile bloomed on my face when I saw Vincent’s name. He never called, only texted, and I nearly fumbled the phone trying to get it unlocked and up to my ear.
“Hey there,” I greeted, my voice going deep as I tried to control my breathing.
“Hi, honey. How are you?” His voice was a raspy rumble, like tires on gravel. He sounded so tired.
“I’m fine,” I responded. “What’s going on with you? Are you okay?”
“Sure,” Vincent said with a sigh, and I didn’t really believe him. Before I could call him on it, though, he continued. “Valentine and I are flying in tomorrow. I’m not sure where I’m staying yet. I forgot to book a hotel, so I have to search the web after I get off the phone with you. I just wanted to know if you’d be up to seeing me tomorrow night.”
“Yes.” My reply was instant, and Vincent gave a weak laugh. He was exhausted, I could tell, but at least I had amused him somewhat. I cleared my throat, debated even asking, but then I just decided to go for it. The worst he could do was say “no.” “You’re welcome to stay here with me. If you want. Instead of at a hotel.”
There was absolute silence from the other end. I waited, holding my breath. When my vision started to swim, I let it out in an explosive burst.
“Or not,” I said. “It was just a thought. No big deal.”
“Sorry.” Vincent’s chuckle sounded more like him. “I totally spaced out for a minute there. You sure, Dan?”
My heart started to calm, knowing he was considering it. “Yes, I’m sure. If you wanted to.”
He was quiet again, but I could hear him breathing. Eventually he sighed, and it sounded like he’d come to a decision. “Yeah, okay. That could work. It’s only for seven or eight days.”
I didn’t know quite how to take that, but I agreed anyway. Vincent told me what time his flight arrived, and anticipated getting to my house a couple of hours later, after he got his bags, dog, and car from the rental counter. I almost offered to pick him up, but something about the way he was speaking made me think it wasn’t a good idea. So I just told him I’d leave the light on for him, and that I would see him tomorrow.
When we hung up, I blew out a sharp breath and massaged the odd pain in my stomach. I was thrilled that Vincent had agreed to stay with me. Having him here every night would be amazing. But I could tell he wasn’t at the same place I was, and he was still looking at this as friends hooking up. That saddened me a little, but I wasn’t ready to give him up yet. I was making a bigger deal out of it than it was. We would have this time together, then probably go our separate ways.
The pain moved from my stomach to my heart. I did my best to ignore it.
* * * *
Vincent’s flight was delayed because of bad weather, and between that and the rental company losing his reservation for his car and he had to fight with them before they made it right—being a loyal customer certainly helped—it was dark by the time he got to my house.
I’d seen him ragged and worn after a hard week’s filming, but it didn’t compare to the bedraggled man before me. He’d lost weight in the last month, just enough to be noticeable, and there were huge, dark circles under his eyes. His skin had a sallow sheen and he literally trudged up the walkway toward the steps. I rushed out to meet him, hugging him tightly and kissing him soundly, not even sparing a thought as to who might be lurking. In that moment, I didn’t even care. I had to touch him. Vincent might have been exhausted beyond reckoning, but he still took control of the kiss. I melted against him, but when he staggered under my weight, I realized what I was doing and pulled back.
“You look awful,” I said with a small smile to soften my words.
He tried for a laugh. “Gee, thanks,”
I swatted him playfully. “You know what I mean. When was the last time you slept?”
&
nbsp; “I don’t remember.” He shook his head, then managed a real smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve caught more than a catnap. I’m sorry, honey, but I’m going to have to sleep for a few hours before I fuck your beautiful ass.”
I flushed with both embarrassment and arousal. Shooing him toward the door, I took a quick look around and was glad to see the street utterly devoid of onlookers. I grabbed his over-large suitcase and carry-on. “Go inside and crawl into bed. The morning is soon enough. My ass can wait.”
Vincent started moving, but he was shaking his head again. “I have to walk Valentine, and I really need a shower. And to kiss you some more.”
I nudged him through the front door, then shut and locked it behind us. “I’ll take Valentine out back while you shower. If you’re still awake when I come back in and get into bed with you, you can kiss me all you like.”
I dropped Vincent’s luggage off in the bedroom, then continued through to the en suite to pull out fresh towels. When I got back, Vincent had opened his suitcase and was rummaging around for his toiletry bag. He’d already laid out a pair of sleep shorts and a T-shirt. I leaned in and kissed his neck, then left him to it.
Valentine was waiting patiently in the living room, his leash still attached to his collar. I bent and let him sniff at me, his soft bark and lick letting me know he remembered me. I picked up the end of the leash, grabbed a couple of plastic grocery bags from the drawer, and led Valentine outside.
Thirty minutes later, I had him settled on an old blanket in the living room, and I went upstairs. Vincent was stretched out on the bed, face down, and softly snoring, his whole body absolutely relaxed in real sleep. I grinned and pulled off my clothes before crawling into bed with him. It wasn’t that late, and I wasn’t tired, but I wanted to be with him. And I loved the way he curled his body into mine. I left on the bedside lamp, picked up a book, and read while he slept against me. It was so peaceful to lie there like that, I hoped we’d be able to do more of it.
Chapter 8
I was worried about Vincent.
That first night he slept hard, and didn’t wake again until mid-morning. At that point, he turned me over and fucked me hard until we were both too sated to move. We both slept then, and Vincent stayed in bed long after I got up. When he eventually emerged, he had showered and I had dinner on the table. It was nothing special, just a beef and vegetable soup with a loaf of freshly baked bread. I’d made the soup from scratch but I’d picked up the bread from the deli close to work. Vincent kissed me in appreciation before he sat at the table.
“This looks and smells fantastic,” he murmured.
I wasn’t much of a cook, but I took the compliment anyway. I waited for him to eat some of the soup before I gently queried, “Are you okay? You look better, but not…good yet.”
He nodded and bit off a chunk of bread, then chewed and swallowed before he answered. “I’ve just been going non-stop since last time I was here. Literally. It’ll be good to be working for the show again. I’ll actually get some rest.”
I let it go at that, because I could tell by his tone that he didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to argue, or make him angry, so I didn’t push. But the next morning when we got up to head to the set, he looked no better. In fact, I thought he was pale and sweaty. I asked him if he was coming down with something, but he brushed me off and went to walk his dog. I ended up having to leave for my makeup call before he got back. By the time we both made it on set, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I didn’t know what was wrong with him, but it was clearly something. And the worry was gnawing at my gut.
He just wouldn’t talk to me when I tried to find out what was wrong.
“So. It’s like that, is it?” Lucas spoke softly from beside me.
I didn’t turn to look at him, and I didn’t try to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Since when?” Lucas’s voice was neutral, and I knew that meant he was hurt. But I couldn’t deal with that now. I’d have to make it up to him later.
“A couple of months. Nothing serious. Yet. Maybe not ever. I don’t know.” I swallowed hard, not taking my eyes from Vincent. He went even paler and started shaking out his left arm like it hurt. “Something is very wrong with him.”
I took a step forward. Vincent looked at me and started to glare. I could practically see him warning me back onto set. But then his eyes went wide and he clutched the arms of his chair, struggling for breath. He was swarmed with PAs and support staff, people reaching out as he slid from the chair, and before I could even get close, the medic had been called.
My heart was pounding, fear and adrenaline pouring through my veins, and I tried to get closer. I had to find out what was going on, what was wrong with him. There was shouting and running, but I couldn’t make sense of anything. My gaze had narrowed to that spot on the floor where Vincent was lying. The medic opened his bag and injected something into Vincent, and he was talking into the mic on his chest. I fought the hands grabbing me, trying to hold me back, and it was only Lucas’s growl in my ear that stopped me.
“Let him work,” Lucas insisted, and he and Aaron pulled me a few feet away. They were smart enough to keep me where I could see Vincent, who was now getting an IV. Seconds later, the gurney appeared. They loaded Vincent onto it, and practically ran from the set.
For a few seconds, there was stunned silence. Then activity broke out all over, people running around, and Marc Bergman, producer and showrunner, bursting onto the set and taking control. I was aware of it only on the periphery. I couldn’t get anything to make sense. My heart was pounding in my ears. Oh my God, what was wrong with Vincent? Was he going to be okay? I needed to get out of here. I needed to get to the hospital and find out if my lover was all right.
“Hold on,” Aaron murmured in my ear, holding me tightly. I tried to shake him off, to move, but he was stronger than he looked. “Just wait, Dan. Lucas is finding out what he can. Keep it together for just a few more minutes.”
I listened because I had to. But that barely kept the panic at bay. When Lucas walked back to where we were sitting, I grabbed his arm. He gripped my shoulder and bent just enough so that he could look me in the eye.
“They are saying heart attack,” Lucas relayed grimly. “But he didn’t lose consciousness and he got immediate medical attention. They’ve taken him to the hospital. And anyone not shooting with the second unit is free to go for the rest of the day.”
I blinked up at him, staring into those startling blue eyes. “Am I…?” I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to be doing.
Lucas shook his head. “You’re not scheduled to shoot. Aaron and I have to stay, but Mary Alice is going to go with you to the hospital, okay?”
I nodded numbly. Then I stood and started for the door.
Aaron caught my hand and squeezed. “Let’s get you changed into your street clothes, okay?”
It was a necessity, so I agreed. And I wouldn’t have managed if Aaron hadn’t come with me and helped me strip and redress. All I could think about was Vincent, his face as he collapsed, the utter fear that crossed his features. My heart continued pounding with the driving need just to get to him.
Mary Alice showed up a few seconds later, one hand clutching her bag and the other reaching toward me. “You ready, big guy? You better be able to walk, because I can’t carry you.” She gave me a cheeky grin, trying to be funny to help. I managed a smile, but I grabbed onto her hand like it was a lifeline.
I was glad she was going with me.
* * * *
I asked after Vincent at the information window, but they couldn’t tell me anything and I was made to sit in the waiting area for the Emergency Department. I sat there for hours. Days. Years. Every second that passed felt like an eon. I couldn’t concentrate. MA picked up a magazine and rested one hand on my thigh. I didn’t know how she could read. I couldn’t even keep my attention on the TV in the corner, and it was a channel that kept play
ing the same five news stories over and over again, with breaks for the weather forecast every ten minutes. I should have at least been able to absorb some of it. But I couldn’t. My entire focus was directed on Vincent, waiting, wondering, panicking.
I was downright scared.
“It’s been for fucking ever,” I muttered, twitching in my seat and adjusting my position yet again. I couldn’t sit still. I stretched my long legs out in front of me, then almost immediately pulled them back in.
Mary Alice gave my thigh a squeeze. “They brought him in only three hours ago, Danny. They need to find out what’s wrong in order to help him. That takes time.”
“It shouldn’t take this long,” I insisted even though, in truth, I had no idea. I just wanted to see him. To touch him. That was the only way I could know he was all right, and until then, my imagination was running to the worst possible scenarios. “What if they—”
“Dan Jacobs?”
I jerked at the sound of my name and stood fast before I even looked around to find out who had said it. A pretty, young guy in a pair of dark blue scrubs stood uncertainly in the doorway, his gaze tracking around the room for his intended target. His eyes widened when he saw me, and he tipped back his head as I approached. Then he gave me a smile.
“He’s awake and asking for you,” the guy said, motioning behind him.
Relief surged through me, and my knees buckled for just a second until I could firm them up. I glanced over my shoulder, but MA just nodded and waved me on. I followed the nurse through the electric doors, down through a hallway lined with glass-fronted rooms, and into the last one on the left.
Something Like Peace Page 5