No One Should Be Alone

by Tinnean

“You want to run a tab?” Scotty asked.

  Mark glanced around the crowded bar. “Not tonight.” He handed him a twenty. “Keep it.”

  “Thanks, Mark.”

  “Welcome.”

  I waited until Mark had lifted his glass, and then raised my own and tapped it lightly against his. “Merry Christmas, Mark.”

  “Back atcha.”

  I sipped. This was a malt whiskey to be savored. Mark seemed intent on savoring it as well. His eyes were closed, and there was a slight smile on his face. The hard expression he usually wore was gone, and he looked more at ease and younger than I could remember seeing him in the past year.

  Feeling almost as if I were spying on a private moment, I let my gaze wander around the interior of the bar.

  It was hazy with cigarette smoke. There were a number of small tables down the center of the room and booths against the far wall. Right now they were all taken. The television was airing a Christmas movie, and the jukebox was playing something that was bouncy and appropriate to the season.

  Mark leaned down and spoke in my ear. “Scotty likes pop standards.”

  “So do I.” I smiled at him, then resumed studying the occupants of the bar. “Mark?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What?”

  “Uh….” I shook my head. I must have misheard—the noise level.

  “So what’s up?”

  “That couple over there seem to be trying to attract your attention.”

  “Oh?” His eyes became frosty, and I was sorry I’d mentioned it. He turned to examine them, and then his expression warmed.

  The woman rose and approached us. “Mr. Vincent. Merry Christmas, sir.”

  “Ms. Parker. Merry Christmas.” He took her hand in a gentle grasp.

  I recognized the name. She’d been Mark’s secretary in the WBIS.

  “How are you?”

  Her smile was radiant. “I’m fine, thank you.” She was noticeably pregnant.

  “She is, you know.” The man joined us as well, sliding an arm around her waist. I scrutinized him carefully. There was something familiar about the black hair and gray-green eyes, but I couldn’t quite pin it down.

  “Granger. I see congratulations are in order.”

  “Vince.” Granger grinned at him. “Yeah, I finally made my move on Valentine’s Day.” He flushed a little. “Who’d have thought I could be a romantic?”

  “I would.” Ms. Parker leaned against Granger and sighed contentedly. “Our little girl is going to be a St. Patrick’s Day baby.”

  He dropped a kiss on Ms. Parker’s nose. “We’re going to name her Patti after her mom.”

  “Well, congratulations again.” Mark grinned back at the expectant father.

  “Thank you. We’re very happy.” Ms. Parker tipped her head back, smiled up at Granger, and caressed his cheek.

  “And she won’t be following in her parents’ footsteps!”

  “Glad to hear that.” Mark laughed softly and ran a finger around the rim of his glass.

  That must be a private joke. Being a secretary was a good job. What parent would object to it?

  “How are you, Vince?”

  “Yes, how are you?” Ms. Parker rubbed Granger’s hand where it rested on the swell of her abdomen. “We couldn’t believe it when we heard you’d—” She paled and bit back the rest of her words.

  “I’m working in the private sector.” Granger’s voice was smooth, and again I had the feeling I should be able to place it, but I couldn’t.

  “It’s okay, Gabe. I’d never have thought I’d be working for the CIA either.” There was deviltry in Mark’s hazel eyes. “I’m good. Well as good as you could expect, considering I’m with the Company now.”

  I’d never seen him so relaxed. Was this what he was like with people he trusted?

  Would he be like that with me if he trusted me? Would he ever trust me?

  It was obvious that Mark wasn’t going to introduce me. I could understand that; he was probably reluctant to have his former associates know we were together.

  Not that we were together. We were just having a drink… together.

  I sighed and pretended I was there on my own.

  And then Mark’s hand was on my lower back. The layers of my overcoat and suit jacket kept me from feeling the warmth of his touch. “This is my colleague, Quinton Mann.”

  “Mr. Mann!” Granger held out his hand. “You had quite a reputation around the WBIS.”

  “Really? Should I be flattered?”

  “Yeah. We’re—we were a tough bunch to impress! I have to say it’s a real pleasure to finally meet you.” He laughed softly.

  I raised an eyebrow but accepted his hand. “Have we met?”

  He grinned and turned to Mark. “I’m gonna get Patti out of here. It’s getting too smoky.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Listen, why don’t we get together for dinner or a drink? If you don’t have plans for New Year’s Eve…?”

  “I’ll….” He cut a glance toward me. “I’ll give you a call about it. You at the same number?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, then. Make sure you drive carefully.”

  “I will. Merry Christmas.” Granger squeezed Mark’s arm. “Mr. Mann.”

  “Granger. Ms. Parker. Merry Christmas.” I waited until they were gone before saying, “They seem like very nice people.”

  “They are. Rumors to the contrary, the WBIS hired good people.”

  “I’m sure.” WBIS agents had the reputation of being sociopaths and loose cannons, but I didn’t want to get into an argument with him. Especially since I had hopes this wouldn’t be the only time we’d get together for a drink. Or anything else. “I keep having the feeling I’ve seen Granger before.”

  “Some people have those kinds of faces.” There was amusement in his eyes, as if he knew something I didn’t.

  “Hmmm.”

  Just then the door opened, and a group of men and women rushed in, laughing and brushing snow off their coats and hair.

  Dammit. I’d been enjoying my time with him. I’d especially enjoyed seeing Mark interact with Granger and Ms. Parker.

  But this wasn’t enjoyable. The level of noise seemed to rise in untold decibels, and I’d have to shout for him to hear me.

  I leaned toward him. “This is too noisy for me.”

  “Sorry, Quinn. I’d really hoped to have a quiet drink with you. It never occurred to me the Six Nine would be so crowded.” He finished his drink and started to turn away. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait!” I didn’t want the evening to end just yet. I tipped my glass back and swallowed more quickly than I’d intended. The Glenfiddich seared my throat all the way down, and I wound up coughing.

  Mark pounded my back until I finally had to step away.

  “Enough. Enough!” I pulled out a handkerchief and mopped my eyes. “I’m fine.”

  “If you say so.” He took my glass and put it on the bar. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” I tucked the handkerchief in the inner pocket of my overcoat, nodded to the bartender, who’d watched the whole thing with interest, and turned to follow Mark.

  Chapter 6

  The snow and wind drove into my face and made their way under my collar, and I shivered.

  “I hate getting snow down my neck.”

  “Poor baby.” Mark pulled up my collar, and I stared into his face.

  He was busy making sure my collar was snug under my throat and didn’t see my eyes drop to his mouth. His lips weren’t that distant. If I tipped my head back, if he leaned toward me….

  “Let’s get to the car before you freeze your nuts off,” he growled.

  My nuts. I drew in a breath. I imagined his hand cupping them while he nudged my legs farther apart—

  “I’m sorry, Quinn.”

  I shook myself. “Excuse me?”

  “Every place is going to be mobbed tonight. Maybe we can do this another ti
me.”

  “I’d like to do it tonight.”

  Mark’s head shot up, and I felt the color rise in my cheeks. That sounded more suggestive than I’d intended.

  “A drink, Mark,” I clarified hastily. Had the whiskey gotten to me, or was it something else? I usually had a much better head for alcohol. “I’d like that drink tonight!”

  “I knew what you meant, Mann.”

  “So I’m back to being ‘Mann’?”

  “Don’t you think that might be for the best?”

  “Do you?”

  “Jesus, Quinn, don’t answer a question with a question!”

  “It’s an inherited trait, Mark.” I was pleased his resolve to resume addressing me as Mann hadn’t lasted any longer than it had taken me to divert him. “Mother used to drive my father to distraction when she did that; her brothers as well.” I tilted my head and studied his eyes. “I’d suggest you get used to it.”

  “Oh, yeah?” As we passed a streetlight, I was able to see his eyes. They didn’t change color as I’d been told mine did when I was amused, but they did lighten a bit.

  “Yes.” It had been a long time since I’d taken a man to bed; God knew this wasn’t the best idea, and not because he’d once worked for the WBIS. I was his superior.

  However, he wasn’t the type of subordinate who would charge me with sexual harassment. If he wasn’t interested, he was more than likely to punch me in the face.

  Although I hoped he wouldn’t. It would be nice if we were on the same page, even if it were only for this one night. And…. He’d been aroused in my office earlier this evening. He hadn’t thought I’d noticed, but I had. I was just too polite to bring it to his attention.

  “Now, let me ask just one final question.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “If there aren’t any other places—”

  “That’s not a question.”

  “Goddammit, will you let me finish?” The man was trying my patience to the degree that I was tempted to punch him in the face.

  “Don’t get your shorts in a bunch!” It was no wonder he was grinning. I’d been nicknamed the Ice Man because no matter how dangerous the situation, no one had ever seen me lose my composure. Now here I was, snapping at him.

  Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea.

  But if I didn’t make at least an attempt, I’d never know, would I?

  “What would you say about your place, Mark?”

  “My place for what?”

  I sighed. “For that drink.”

  He couldn’t seem to answer. He swallowed and swallowed again, finally settling for a simple nod, and now it was my turn to grin.

  “All right, then. And I think we’d better hurry. This snow is coming down harder.”

  “Uh…. Yeah. Sure thing.” In a voice so soft I knew I wasn’t supposed to hear, he murmured, “I’m taking Quinn Mann home!”

  I stopped abruptly. It had been a long time since anyone had been that enthusiastic about seeking out my company. Even Susan had primarily wanted me for my name and my connections. I could have been a janitor and it wouldn’t have mattered, not as long as my last name was still Mann.

  Apparently Mark hadn’t been watching, because he walked right into me.

  “Jesus, Mann! What’s the problem?”

  “I could ask you the same question.” I could hardly tell him that I’d been flattered and more aroused than I could last remember. “You usually pay more attention to your surroundings.”

  “And that’s just what I was doing.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You see those two guys across the street?”

  I could. They looked to be about six feet tall, with the bulk to match, although that could simply have been suggested by the overcoats they wore.

  They sent a single, nervous glance our way and then hurried down the street without looking back.

  “I thought they were following a little too closely, so I let them see I was packing.”

  “Really, Mark.”

  “Listen, Mann. I didn’t get to be senior special agent by being careless.”

  “No, I imagine not. Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t even notice them.”

  “Yeah. Why didn’t you?”

  “I was… distracted.”

  “Well, you’d better stop being distracted and pay attention, or you’re not gonna make it to your next birthday.”

  “Indeed.” I frowned at him. “I don’t appreciate your tone of voice.” Although, in fact, I did appreciate it. No one, other than Mother, of course, worried about me.

  “Oh, don’t take that attitude.”

  “What attitude?”

  “Goddammit! You’re not going to live forever! You know how many funerals I’ve had to attend?” He was obviously furious.

  Of course I’d attended more than I cared to consider, but everyone knew the attrition rate at the WBIS had been the highest of all the alphabet agencies.

  “I don’t want you dead, Quinn.” He looked around, then shoved me into the doorway of a shop. His mouth was a breath away from mine, and once again I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it.

  “Mark—” I whispered, finding it difficult to breathe.

  And then his mouth was on mine, all cool lips and warm tongue, and oh, yes, this was going to be just as good as I’d expected. I curled my fingers into his lapel, ready to sink into that kiss, ready to accept his tongue into my mouth and suck on it, ready….

  My lips suddenly felt cold and bereft. The son of a bitch had pulled away from me.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Certainly not on Massachusetts Avenue.” I forced myself to laugh, as if it was immaterial, but I’d never heard my laugh sound so shaky.

  He didn’t respond to that. Instead, he stepped away, looking up and down the street.

  “Those men are gone,” I reminded him.

  “I’m looking for a cab.”

  “Why? I said I’d drive you home.”

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “You promised me a drink.”

  “No.”

  “I… I see.”

  “What do you see, Quinn?”

  “I’ve read this entire situation wrong.” I fisted my hands. It had been a very long time since I’d made such a fool of myself. “I apologize.”

  “You didn’t read shit wrong.” Mark ran a hand through his hair, then scowled at the moisture left behind by the snow. “I’m going to lay it on the line, Mann. If you drove me home, if you came in with me, you wouldn’t be leaving until tomorrow morning.” His eyes narrowed as if he was challenging me.

  “All right.” I let out a relieved breath. He does want me!

  “What? You can’t say that!”

  “I believe I just did.”

  “Well, forget about it. We’re not doing this, Quinn.”

  Just like that, my relief vanished, and I ground my teeth together, frustrated as hell. “Fuck you, Vincent.” I stepped around him and continued down the street to where I’d parked my car.

  Mark caught up with me and strode along at my side. “I’m not kidding.” Was there a hint of desperation in his voice?

  “And you think I am?”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing. Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

  “Of course I do! I’m not a child, you know.”

  “But you’re not gay!”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you using that as an excuse to avoid having a drink with me? Because I can assure you that isn’t necessary. If you have no interest in me, I will manage to keep my hands off you.”

  “Quinn….” He put a hand on my shoulder, and I shrugged it off.

  “Do you honestly think I’m unable to restrain myself?” I’d been raised to keep my voice and words cool, and that was exactly what they were.

  “I’ve always wondered how you got that nickname. Now I understand.”

  Fo
r the most part, I didn’t care if everyone saw me as the Ice Man, but with Mark— “If I ever find the idiot who gave me that nickname, I swear to God I’m going to kick his ass from State down to Langley!”

  Mark laughed, and I couldn’t believe how much that hurt.

  “It’s not amusing, and it’s not appropriate!” I stalked away, but he was right beside me.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “I’m not an ice man!”

  “I know you’re not.” Mark was suddenly serious. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to a halt. “Quinn—”

  “What do you want from me, Mark?”

  “Shouldn’t I ask that of you? Is this some kind of test? Or did you make a bet, maybe with that spook friend of yours, to see if you could get to me—”

  “If this were two hundred years ago, I’d challenge you to a duel for that!” I jerked my arm free and strode toward my car. I’d thought things were going so well….

  “Quinn—”

  “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

  “No, listen to me.”

  I glared at him.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just….”

  “What?” We’d reached my car, but I was too intent on getting this argued out with him to unlock the doors.

  “You’re not gay! You’re not even bi!”

  “How would you know that?”

  “Do you think I haven’t looked into your records? Quinton Mann, age thirty-six—” He stared into my eyes. “Thirty-seven in February. Orientation, heterosexual.”

  I’d gone to a good deal of trouble to make sure that was in my records. “And what is that supposed to prove?”

  “Quinn.” He was so exasperated I thought he was going to break a tooth grinding his molars together. “What don’t you get about ‘heterosexual’?”

  “Suppose I say I’m open to the experience?”

  “Goddammit, you’re doing that answering a question with a question thing again!”

  “Don’t change the subject. If I’m willing—”

  “You want the experience of getting fucked by another man to be with me?”

  “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of me fucking you.”

  Chapter 7

  “You’re insane. You know that?” I stared at Quinn for a minute, then shook my head. “People are afraid of me. The last thing they want to do is get into bed with me.”