Fire and Granite

by Andrew Grey

  Andrew left the room. Petey followed him and jumped onto the sofa, blinking as he settled into what seemed like his spot. Andrew sat as well, and Petey shuffled over to place his head on his lap. Andrew gently stroked between Petey’s ears and then reached for the television remote. He turned it on and found a cooking show, since it seemed to be something he and Clay had in common.

  Clay came in from the kitchen. “Petey, come on. You need to go outside.”

  The dog jumped down and hurried through the house. Andrew turned his attention to the television, and a little while later, both Petey and Clay came into the room. Clay sat in the leather recliner, putting his feet up, and Petey jumped into his lap.

  “I checked all the doors and they’re locked. Harper may be able to call you, but he isn’t going to find you, not here anyway.” Clay grabbed his phone and sent a few messages. “They haven’t found him yet. Sheriff says he’ll keep us apprised of anything that happens.”

  Andrew nodded nervously. “I know it’s safer here than at my house, but I keep wondering….”

  “It will be all right. I asked some of the guys to drive by when they’re out and about just to check on the place for you. The cops in Carlisle are doing the same thing.” Clay slowly petted Petey, who sighed as he pressed himself to Clay’s chest, his head on his shoulder. Dang, that was one lucky dog. “Everyone is doing their best for you.”

  Andrew gaped for a second. “You did all that for me?”

  Clay shrugged, and Petey huffed at the movement. “Of course. I’m not a dick….” He slowly sat up, settling Petey on his lap. “You and I are a lot alike. I’m going to hazard a guess that you like to be the one in control. So do I.” Clay’s gaze was strong and held just enough heat to make Andrew uncomfortable… and excited at the same time. He had to be misunderstanding what was behind it. He had to be. The heat in Clay’s eyes was magnetic, and Andrew wanted to shift closer. None of that mattered, not really. Andrew had no idea if Clay was gay, but that was immaterial. Andrew had worked hard to get where he was, one of the youngest judges in the counties over two hundred years. The last thing he wanted was a media circus around him dating a guy.

  Andrew didn’t like to think of himself as being in the closet, just private. His mom and dad knew he was gay, as did most of his family and his friends. But he didn’t go around announcing his preferences, and he certainly didn’t date. If he went to a party, he generally went alone. He had gay friends and that was wonderful, and….

  Clay was still watching him, not looking away.

  “Is something wrong?” Andrew finally asked.

  “I’m just wondering how long those gears in your head are going to turn before they come to a screeching halt.”

  “That’s not very nice.” Andrew frowned. Was that all he could come up with?

  “True, it isn’t, and I’m sorry, but you seem like a conflicted kind of guy. What’s pulling you back and forth so badly, and why do you keep tugging on your collar? Are you warm?” Clay leaned over the arm of the chair. He gently put Petey on the floor, stood, and went to check the thermostat. “The heat isn’t set too high.”

  Petey joined Andrew once again on the sofa. “No. It’s fine.” He wasn’t going to explain that the source of the heat was Clay himself. That would be embarrassing beyond words.

  Clay sat back down and they watched a few episodes of Beat Bobby Flay. “I always thought this show should be Fillet Bobby Flay. I thought that would have a better ring to it.”

  Andrew chuckled. “That’s pretty good.” He groaned when one of the chefs came on. “And what about Anne Burrell? I swear she has the worst hair on television. It looks like two birds nested in it and left it that way.”

  Clay put his hand up, and Andrew high-fived it. “I suppose she’s trying to go for memorable on television, but I always cringe whenever she’s on. She sure can cook, but that hair….” Clay shuddered.

  Andrew shrugged, and they turned their attention back to the program. He tried to relax and just enjoy the quiet time, but he kept wondering what was going on at his house and if someone was outside.

  Clay went to get something for them to drink, and Andrew peeked out from behind the curtains, half expecting to catch a shadowy figure standing across the street watching the house. He saw nothing and let the drape fall back into place. He was starting to fray around the edges with worry.

  “I brought you a Diet Coke. Is that okay?”

  “It’s great. Thanks.” He took it absently, opened it, and took a sip.

  The show broke for commercial, and Clay turned to him. “Why does Harper hate you so much? It isn’t like you’re the first judge to send him to jail.”

  “In court, Grange decided he was going to run the show, but I shut him down. When he wouldn’t stop, I held him in contempt, revoked his bail, and sent back to jail with a specific order that he was to have no visitors except an attorney and no personal items of any kind, including his clothes. He could wear a jailhouse uniform. Let him get a taste of what was to come. When he did return, I kept him on a very tight leash. He had no case, and the evidence against him was overwhelming. All he did was ramble and waste the court’s time, so I stopped him completely. That only sent him over the edge, and he had to be taken from the courtroom when he became violent. He threatened the men removing him, but at the back door, he calmed, standing tall, nearly filling the door.” Andrew could remember that sight, intimidating as all hell. “He pointed at me. ‘You I will remember, and I will be back to get you.’” He shivered.

  “I see,” Clay said thoughtfully.

  “It was the way he said it, like his voice was made of ice.” Andrew swallowed hard, his leg bouncing on the floor. Judges got threatened all the time. It was something that happened when people were under stress and lashed out. But Grange was different. “I didn’t doubt what he said.”

  “I know.” Clay nodded. “I’ve been on the receiving end of that stare. It can freeze your damn blood in seconds.” He paused. “Any idea why he didn’t come after you before this? He’d been out for six months before we arrested him again.”

  Andrew shook his head. “I’d hoped he’d forgotten about it and had decided to get his life back together. But it seemed he was busy building a business dealing in the misery of others. Thugs for hire.” Jesus Christ, he couldn’t think of many things scarier than people turning Harper Grange loose on their enemies. And the results had been horrific, if the charges were true. “Once he was caught… I got assigned, and all hell broke loose.” He sighed. That wouldn’t have been his choice at all.

  “How on earth did that happen? I mean, he’d threatened you before.” Clay got to his feet, hands on his hips, intimidating as hell. “I’d say someone wasn’t thinking.”

  Damn, Clay was angry for him. That was both a little scary and sexy at the same damn time. “The head judge assigns the cases, and all the other courts were backed up. There’s too many cases and not enough judges. I had room in my schedule because I’d just finished a big case earlier than expected. So they assigned his case to me, and the rest is history.” Andrew sighed. Yes, it hadn’t been an ideal situation, but he was aware of how Grange operated and was prepared to deal with him.

  Clay relaxed and came over to sit on the other end of the sofa. Petey stretched out to touch both of them so he could get extra attention. That dog was an adorable attention sponge. “How did he know it was assigned to you?”

  Andrew shrugged. “The calendar is subject to change, but it isn’t a state secret. Attorneys and defendants need to know where to go and the date to be in court, so there’s a schedule and it gets published. All you need to do is call the clerk’s office. Though I somehow doubt that was the reason he broke out the way he did.” At least Andrew sure as hell hoped not. He’d hate to think that three people were hurt because of him.

  “We have no idea why he did that.” Clay petted Petey. “Obviously so he could get away, but what’s driving him at the moment is a complete mystery. I hope the
y find him, and do it quickly, or else innocent people—anyone who gets in his way—are going to get hurt.”

  The program had ended, and Andrew hadn’t even realized what had happened. He’d been absorbed in the conversation and had paid little attention to anything else. He checked his watch. It was still early, but he hadn’t slept much last night and he’d been running on adrenaline all day and was worn out. “I’m going to go up to bed, if that’s okay?”

  “Of course.” Clay shifted. “I put towels for you in the bathroom.”

  Andrew got up, and Clay made to do the same, but Andrew waved him off, so Clay settled back into his seat. “It’s all right. I know where things are. I’ll see you in the morning. Thank you for everything.” Andrew really was incredibly grateful, and Clay wasn’t at all the kind of guy he’d thought he was… well, not totally. There was a lot more to him than the big, intimidating deputy who was used to being in control and getting what he wanted. “I appreciate it, I really do.” He patted Petey and then left the room to go up the stairs.

  Andrew got a pair of shorts and T-shirt from his bag, and headed to the bathroom to clean up. When he was done, he went to the bedroom and closed the door most of the way before getting into bed. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, listening to every noise in the house. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. He was in a strange home with sounds that weren’t familiar, jumping at every noise, wondering what it was. The longer he lay there, the more his imagination took over, until he heard Clay’s heavy footsteps on the stairs and the soft tinkle of Petey’s collar.

  The light outside the partially open door went dark, and Andrew closed his eyes, hoping he could sleep. The door opened, and Petey’s tinkling got closer. He climbed on the bed and settled right next to Andrew as if he knew he needed comforting.

  “Petey,” Clay whispered, his footsteps in the hall growing closer.

  “He’s fine,” Andrew said, hoping Clay would leave him alone. Having the dog here in the dark was soothing, and Andrew carded his fingers through Petey’s fur.

  Clay’s footsteps retreated, and Andrew finally closed his eyes as sleep washed over him. Petey grunted, his head butting Andrew’s hand to pet him. Andrew rolled onto his side, letting his hand rest on Petey’s back. Finally, after lying there for what seemed like hours, out of pure exhaustion, he fell into a restless sleep.

  Chapter 3

  CLAY WAS thirsty and needed to use the bathroom. He turned and checked the clock—a little before three in the morning. Clay groaned as he got out of bed, being as quiet as he could, and headed to the bathroom. There were times when he wished his old house had a master bathroom, and this was certainly one of them.

  He reached the door as a thunk preceded the soft ring of Petey’s collar as he ambled out of Andrew’s bedroom. Petey yawned and stretched, then came over and bumped his leg gently.

  “It’s okay, buddy. I know it’s too early to get up.” It was for Clay too.

  He went into the bathroom, took care of business, washed his hands, and then got a drink of water before silently opening the door. As he expected, Petey was sitting outside waiting for him the way he usually did. But Andrew also stood outside the door, in an old pair of dark shorts and a Penn State T-shirt that hugged his chest nicely. Andrew lifted his gaze from Petey and stilled, eyes widening.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” Clay said. When Andrew didn’t respond, Clay wondered why until he looked down, realizing he was in just a pair of sleep shorts and nothing else. Andrew was covered up and…. Clay caught Andrew’s gaze and basked in the heat washing off him. Clay inhaled as the air between them grew musky and thick with tension. He had found himself watching Andrew throughout the evening, at first because he was worried about him, but more and more, it had been because he’d liked what he saw. When Andrew’d explained about being threatened in the courtroom, Clay’s intense, visceral reaction had startled him.

  “You didn’t,” Andrew stammered eventually, turning his gaze downward to Petey, and he bent to pet him gently.

  Clay stepped out, and Andrew hurried into the bathroom and closed the door. Clay shook his head, returning to his room.

  Petey followed and joined him on the bed, and Clay closed his eyes, hoping to go right back to sleep. That didn’t happen. He listened as water ran, and then the bathroom door opened, with Andrew’s footsteps retreating to the other room. Petey huffed, jumped off the bed, and left. Then the house turned quiet—too damn quiet, leaving Clay with images running through his head of just what could be under those flimsy pieces of cotton.

  Andrew was just the kind of guy Clay liked: toned, not too big… and handsome. Andrew was certainly all that, complete with a butt, high and firm, those shorts clinging to it.

  Clay’s eyes popped open, and he shook his head on the pillow, bringing his hands to his temples. This was so wrong. Protecting Andrew was part of his job, period. He wasn’t supposed to get involved with a judge… and certainly not this one. No. He was a professional, and he had a job to do, not fantasizing about the guy or perving on him when he was worried about his safety. Granted, from the look of things, Andrew had liked what he’d seen as well….

  Clay closed his eyes, trying to get back to sleep.

  “DID YOU get any rest?” Clay asked the following morning as he poured two mugs of coffee and slid one across the table to Andrew, who looked like he’d been through the wringer.

  “Not really. I kept hearing noises in the house. They were nothing, but….”

  “Your senses are heightened. It comes with the territory, I’m afraid. I rarely sleep very well.” Clay sipped the coffee and sat down, needing to give the nectar of the gods a chance to do its work. “I’ve gotten used to what the house sounds like, but if there’s anything out of place, I’ll be awake in seconds.” Clay’s eyes were still half-lidded, and he took a few more sips of coffee before getting up to feed Petey his breakfast.

  “He was really good company last night,” Andrew said, watching Petey.

  Clay swallowed as the wish that he’d been the one in Andrew’s bed, rather than his dog, ran through his head. It was too early in the morning for those thoughts, but they came rushing in anyway. Clay turned away and got busy so Andrew didn’t see the color that had risen to his cheeks. Dammit, Clay didn’t blush like some kid, but the thought of Andrew naked, in his bed, looking up at him with his beautiful eyes, pink lips spread wide as he gasped in passion, stuck in his mind and wasn’t going anywhere fast.

  “Petey seems to know when people need comfort,” Clay said as he got him fresh water.

  “Have you had him long?” Andrew asked as Petey finished eating and trotted back over so Andrew could pet him some more.

  “A couple of years. An elderly woman had passed away in her home outside Carlisle. Deaths like that have to be investigated. Petey had been her dog, and while I was there, the family was arguing over who was going to take the dog. None of her children wanted him.” Clay blinked a few times. “I gave them a card and said I’d take him, and got a call a few days later. I picked up Petey right away, and he and I have been best buddies ever since.” He wondered if Andrew wanted some breakfast. He turned to ask him and found Andrew staring up at him. “Is something wrong?”

  Andrew shook his head. “I never would have guessed that you were a big softie.” When Clay growled, Andrew shook his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Good. I don’t want my badass reputation ruined.” Clay winked and shared a smile.

  “Your secret is safe with me.” Andrew straightened up. “I think we should get to the courthouse. I have a packed docket today, and there is a lot I need to do to prepare.” He turned to Petey. “Do you want to come in with us? You’ll have to stay in my office, but your daddy can check on you during the day and take you out.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Clay said.

  “It’s all right. I know this is out of the ordinary. And this way he won’t be alone and you can ta
ke him out a few times during the day.” Andrew continued petting Petey before standing.

  Clay nodded. “All right. Then let me get some stuff together for him and we can get you to court.” He had plenty of things that he needed to do too, and getting an early start would be good.

  Thankfully it didn’t take him long before he had what he needed. Petey, of course, knew they were going and sat by the back door to try to ensure he didn’t get left behind. Usually his efforts were futile, but today when Clay called Petey to come along, he ran out with them, went through the yard, where he took a bathroom break, and then into the garage and hopped into the sheriff’s department vehicle as though he owned it. Clay drove the few minutes to the courthouse and got Andrew inside with a minimum of fuss, with Petey marching right along on his leash. Once in the office, Clay set Petey’s water bowl on a mat and placed his bed in the corner.

  Petey sniffed the entire room and all around Andrew’s huge desk before settling onto his bed for a nap. Apparently he hadn’t slept well either, because he curled in a ball with a sneeze and a soft huff.

  “The same routine as yesterday,” Clay reminded Andrew. “You remember what to say in case you feel threatened in any way?”

  “Yes.” Andrew smiled as he sat behind his desk.

  “Then I’m going to go out and make some calls, letting you get to work. I’ll meet you in the courtroom, just like yesterday.” Maybe if he was lucky—yeah, right—everything would turn out to be for nothing and Harper’s threats would turn out to be so much hot air.