by K. C. Burn
Chapter Eight
Cliff strode out of the hospital, pretending this was normal, pretending he paid this much attention to accident victims, who were virtual strangers, every day. He was a fucking fool, but Drew’s sweet face had him in complete protective mode, something he’d never really experienced with a guy he was interested in. Being a Drummond, Drew could probably take care of himself, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d looked so vulnerable, bloodied and bandaged. Cliff’s foolish need to protect Drew, even from his own family, had won out.
Even more foolishly, he’d been so worried about Drew that he’d stayed at the hospital overnight. When Kyle had arrived the next morning, he’d thought Cliff had only gotten an early start on the day. Which was fine by him. Letting anyone know he’d spent the night staring at Drew, afraid he was going to start seizing or slip into a coma, wasn’t going to do Cliff’s career any favors. If they also knew he’d spent part of that time holding Drew’s hand and stroking his hair, well, his career would go up in flames. At some point, he was going to have to find a way to check Drew’s record or ask Scott. Maybe both. If his criminal past wasn’t terrible, and if Cliff could keep him out of hot water in the future, Sandy Bottom Bay might be forgiving of a cop getting involved with a Drummond.
Not that Cliff should even consider getting involved. But he was drawn to Drew in a way he’d never been before, and that spoke of difficulty for him. Which should come as no surprise. The Drummond twins were trouble through and through, yet Drew Drummond seemed more innocent and naive than his brothers ever had. Cliff would rather deal with Drew’s brand of trouble than Brett’s.
Brett.
Cliff was already out of the hospital and inside his car before he’d stopped thinking solely about Drew and let Brett’s name cross his mind. Shit. Surely Brett didn’t have anything to do with Cliff losing his room, did he?
No. Impossible. Cliff had never been that important to Brett while they were dating, so there was no reason for Brett to become even more douchey than he normally was. Cliff shook off his suspicions. Once he got some sleep, he’d be less paranoid. First, though, he had to rescue the meager belongings he’d brought with him. Once he got settled somewhere more permanent, he’d ship his stuff in from California, but for the time being, he only had a duffel bag filled with clothes, toiletries, and a laptop.
A quick glance at the time told him it was still early. Not quite eight. If he had one unpleasant task to take care of today, he might as well get the other one over and done with. What with all the furor at the Angry Parakeet, even if his mother hadn’t yet been aware he was in town, she soon would be. Which meant a trip out to the homestead. If he got his shit done early enough, he’d see if Scott had time to meet up for a quick lunch. Not even forty-eight hours on the force and already he was going to have to ask for favors. At least he and Scott had been friends before and probably would be again. Because he’d need Scott’s help to juggle his shift so that he was free to stop by Drew’s periodically to check on him.
This wasn’t the homecoming he’d expected.
Just as he was about to turn the key in the ignition, someone knocked on his window, and he jumped.
“What the hell?”
Scott laughed, and Cliff rolled down the window.
“Got you good. What were you thinking about so fiercely?”
Well, he certainly wasn’t going to admit he was thinking about getting to know Drew Drummond better. Scott would probably understand if he admitted to wanting to fuck the man—once he was no longer injured—but getting to know him, dating, that was more dangerous.
“Nothing in particular. What are you doing here so early? I thought you’d sleep in a bit.”
Scott shrugged. “I don’t sleep much, and once I heard you’d been here all night, I thought I’d drop by.”
Stunned, Cliff just stared. How did Scott know?
Scott just laughed again, which did nothing to ease Cliff’s worries. “Hell, you have been gone a long time if you’ve forgotten the way a small town works. My sister Sarah is a nurse. And you, my friend, have made quite an impression on the ladies. Especially the single ones.”
Cliff’s face burned. He had forgotten, or perhaps just the stress of the previous day had temporarily deleted it from his mind.
Wrinkling his nose like he’d smelled something funny, Scott spoke. “But I should warn you, they’re already talking about whether you’re gay or not. Since Drew is, and since you stayed with him all night… Well, just thought I’d let you know they’re already speculating.”
“You didn’t confirm one way or the other?”
“Not my place, man. Not unless you say. But if you don’t speak up, one way or the other, you’re going to have all the single women in this town falling all over you to give you casseroles or some such shit.”
Cliff lifted a brow. “Casseroles? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
The joke hung there in silence for an eternal second before Scott caught on to his meaning and laughed, a great, happy belly laugh. “You know it!”
“I’m not hiding it. So if they ask you outright, you can tell them. Just don’t volunteer the information, okay?” Besides, the gossip was only going to get worse once people found out he was staying at Drew’s to take care of him. He just hoped the chief wouldn’t consider it a conflict of interest, because the thought of going home to Drew’s place, no matter how small it turned out to be, was far more comforting than the thought of heading back to the soulless motel or the house where he’d grown up. Which only confirmed that Cliff had maybe lost his mind somewhere back around Pensacola.
“No problem, buddy. I won’t ask if you were sitting with that guy because you were hoping he’d wake up enough for casseroles.”
Cliff laughed, but perhaps he’d made a mistake handing that particular ammunition to Scott.
“I got his statement, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Uh-huh. Good. Well, where you off to now?”
Some company wouldn’t be amiss, and Scott might have some insight Cliff didn’t. At least with the motel thing. Scott wasn’t starting his shift until two, same as Cliff.
“I have to pack up my shit from the motel. It’s a long story, but want to keep me company?” He wasn’t about to take Scott with him when he went to visit his mom, but he still needed to talk to Scott about their shift tonight.
“Sure thing.” Scott rounded the car and jumped in the passenger side.
Cliff drove toward the highway while Scott fiddled with the radio. Once he had a station set to his liking, Scott leaned back in the seat.
“Why are you picking up your stuff? You didn’t find an apartment already, did you? Or are you going to stay with your mom?”
The silence had been too good to be true. Scott was a talker and would probably never change. Still, it wasn’t like Cliff had been going to keep it secret. Not from Scott, at any rate. And considering people who didn’t even work at the hospital were already trying to figure out if he was gay, random people on the street were probably discussing the state of his relationship with his mother.
“No, no apartment.” Really, Scott needed to think before he opened his mouth sometime. When would Cliff have had time to look at apartments? “But the manager at the motel called.”
Cliff gave Scott the same explanation he’d gotten on the phone.
“Huh.” Scott was quiet for a minute while he thought. “Well, it’s not entirely unreasonable. I guess. I mean, you were there first, so you should get first crack, but our tourist influx is going to be a lot higher for the Haunt Fest this year, what with Phantoms doing a show about it. It’s possible they booked accommodations for a tour bus and sacrificed your room.”
Scott might speak before thinking, but he wasn’t stupid. “This is true.”
“Why, did you think it was because you were gay? I don’t think the owner gives a shit one way or the other, as long as he gets paid.”
Strangely, no
, he hadn’t thought of that, but since he was back in Florida, maybe he should. Not everyone would be as accepting as the chief and Scott. After all, just look at the horrible things the demon twins had said to Brett, and their own brother was gay.
“Oh yeah. You’re probably right.”
Cliff kept his attention on the road, trying to ignore the intent stare he sensed Scott was treating him with. As they turned onto the highway for the dull, drab drive to the motel, Cliff chanced a glance at Scott, which was apparently the opening he needed.
“You thought it was something else. What?”
“It’s stupid.” It had to be paranoia because he was exhausted and trying to make a good impression. “I thought it might have been Brett. Fucking around.”
“Has he exhibited any other stalkerish behavior?”
“No. I mean, maybe. After we broke up, he wouldn’t stop calling. And unless you count showing up here out of the blue, well, no. I’m sure it’s just a weird coincidence. He does have a legitimate reason to be here.”
“True enough. I know the mayor just about shit a brick when they filed for filming permits. He’s been trying to convince one of those paranormal shows to come here for years, and he’s over the fucking moon a show as big as Phantoms was the first. And of course Eddie Price has been unbearable since they asked him to do an interview for the Phantoms segment. Seems to think he’s going to be some sort of star. Go national or some shit as a medium.”
Scott’s words gave Cliff some measure of relief. This was bigger than some elaborate ploy of Brett’s to get him back or get back at him. Ridiculous to think he had any influence over Brett’s behavior, since he’d never had any while they were dating. Brett was probably only making nice because he wanted Cliff to convince his mother to cooperate.
“How do you know all this? Didn’t the TV crew get into town the same day I did?”
Laughter filled the car again. “That ex of yours…subtle he’s not. He was here a couple of weeks ago, attempting a disguise, I think. He was wearing that same ball cap, grew a scruffy beard, and kept sunglasses on. But this town is filled with people who, if they’re not obsessed with those shows because they believe in ghosts, are obsessed with those shows trying to figure out how they can get national fame and notoriety. And, of course, he slept with Eddie.”
“He slept with Eddie? Since when is Eddie gay?” Yet another gay guy in Sandy Bottom Bay? The shock of it was the only thing that could distract him from the ridiculous notion of Brett going incognito. Cliff would have sworn incognito was against Brett’s religion. Scott’s casual delivery spoke of more acceptance than Cliff could have ever expected.
“Eddie’s bisexual, not gay.”
“I can hardly believe it.”
“We do live in the modern world. Not everyone’s a fan, but that’s mostly because there are more single women in town than men, and Eddie tends to play them against each other. And looks more like a movie star than your ex. We get more trouble from jealousy than we do from gay-bashing.”
Had Cliff stepped into an alternate universe? Or had things truly changed in Sandy Bottom Bay in the eight years since he’d been here? He wasn’t exactly expecting to get bashed, not with his mother holding so many of the purse strings for the town, but this ready acceptance shocked him. One of the reasons he’d been in such a hurry to leave was because he’d thought he’d never be free to be himself if he stayed. And, of course, the ridiculous claim to fame on which this town was built.
“Jealousy? And are you sure he’s bisexual?” Because Brett had charmed more than one questioning man into giving up more than the guy intended under the influence of alcohol. Generally they either ran back for the shelter of heterosexuality or came out hoping Brett would be their boyfriend.
Had Eddie slept with Drew? The thought of Drew in another man’s arms sent an alarming stab of jealousy through Cliff. This wasn’t good. He’d been pissed at Brett for cheating, and hurt that he’d been lied to, but this biting anger was new. And it wasn’t even as though Drew had demonstrated any interest. Cliff was building sandcastles out of rainbows.
“Isn’t bisexual being attracted to both sexes? Because he totally pursued Kyle. Wasn’t hard to miss that. Man, the week those two did it, I’m surprised no one died.”
“Kyle? Not Drew?”
Scott laughed again. “I knew you had it bad for Drew. Yeah, Kyle. He’s not actually a Drummond, but most of them treat him like one of their own. Him and Drew are tight like brothers. But even that might not have saved him if the girls didn’t love him and Drew to pieces. After all, it’s one thing to compete with other girls, but the thought they might lose Eddie to someone with different plumbing? Yeah, things were rocky here for a bit.”
Some little bit of tension Cliff hadn’t realized he was carrying dispersed with Scott’s words. Tight like brothers. Despite Kyle introducing himself as Drew’s best friend, most people treated him as though he was closer. Deep in Cliff’s mind, he’d thought maybe Kyle and Drew were an item and hadn’t wanted to publicize the fact. But with Scott, the font of all Sandy Bottom Bay gossip, telling him different, he could relax. A bit. Besides, if Kyle really was getting it on with Drew, he wouldn’t have nominated Cliff to share a room with Drew or slept with Eddie, would he?
Cliff turned in to the motel’s driveway and maneuvered the cruiser to a spot near the entrance to the front desk.
“Hey, you never did tell me where you’re going to stay. Because you could bunk at my place. I’ve got a guestroom.”
Cliff flashed hot and cold. Of course Scott had a spare room. Scott hadn’t even crossed his mind when he’d been wondering where he’d sleep. As soon as Kyle and Drew had offered up Drew’s place, Cliff hadn’t wanted to think of alternatives. He was going to torture himself with Drew’s company as much as he could. Even now, with Scott presenting a perfectly reasonable, and probably more logical, alternative, Cliff didn’t want to give up his time with Drew.
“Well, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about. I’m actually staying with Drew.”
Scott yelped and cuffed him on the shoulder. “Are you fucking kidding me? Forget your famous ex—you’ve got the moves. Dude was practically in a coma, and you’re already moving in.”
“Shut up, Scott. I’m not moving in. I don’t even know Drew.” But he was going to get a crash course in all things Drew, wasn’t he? And while that should have scared him clear down to his toes, he couldn’t find an ounce of fear inside. “But he needs someone to check in with him regularly for the next little while, help him out. He got his bell rung good.”
“What about Kyle? Or Drew’s brothers?”
“Please. I wouldn’t trust my worst enemy’s hamster to those idiots Drew calls brothers. And Kyle’s got some plans this weekend. The call about the motel came while I was taking Drew’s statement at the hospital, and it just seemed like…” Fate. Serendipity. Destiny. No, Cliff couldn’t use any of those words. He didn’t believe in shit like that, not like his mom did. “It seemed like we could both do each other a favor.”
“Right. Favor.” There was no missing what sort of favors Scott thought they’d be exchanging, but as much as Cliff might hope it would get to that, he wasn’t betting on it. “Well, if you change your mind, the offer’s there.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. Once Drew is back on his feet, I’ll probably take you up on it.”
“Sure, sure. You’re helping out. I get it.” Scott didn’t sound like he believed Cliff, but then, Cliff wasn’t sure he believed himself either. How had he gotten so intensely attached to a man he didn’t know?
“Maybe you ought to call out for your shift. You’ve been up all night, and you’ve had a lot of stress for your first day.”
“I can’t call out. I just started yesterday. This isn’t my first time working a shift on no sleep. We’re cops. It happens.”
“The chief will understand. I guarantee it.”
“Out of the question.”
“Th
ink about it, would you? Not only are you stressed and exhausted, but you’re also checking in on a guy with a head injury. How well do you think you’ll be able to deal with your ex under these circumstances?”
Cliff dropped his head back against the headrest. If Brett was his normal, abrasive self, Cliff might not be able to prevent himself from punching the guy. Which would probably be much worse for his career than anything else.
“I’ll think about it. I don’t want to leave you shorthanded, though.”
Scott shrugged. “The Haunt Fest doesn’t start for a week. As long as I can convince Brett to order in, instead of trying the Angry Parakeet again, we’ll be good. Two of us is overkill until the groupies and shit start showing up.”
That was true. They had a few days’ grace before the hordes started to descend, and from all accounts, the hordes were much bigger than he was used to—for a Haunt Fest, at any rate. Getting some decent sleep before dealing with all that wasn’t a bad idea.
It only took a few minutes for Cliff to grab his stuff. He didn’t have much and hadn’t bothered to unpack most of what he did have. As soon as he’d tossed his duffel in the trunk, he checked out, manfully refraining from asking about the nearly empty parking lot. It sure as hell didn’t look like they were booked to capacity, but this little turn of events had put him in what he hoped was a good situation, so he couldn’t be too upset about it.
On the way out, he almost bumped into a woman. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
“That’s a new one.” The snarky reply came just as he realized he knew the woman.
“Kristi. What are you doing here?”
Her expression said she could barely be bothered to speak to the shit she’d just scraped off her shoe, but she answered nonetheless. “Just paying for a reservation. If you’ll excuse me.”
Kristi brushed past him without another word, and his discussion with Scott in the car shed some long-needed light on Kristi’s attitude. Kristi had disliked him because she’d been jealous of him—or, more specifically, jealous of his relationship with Brett. Why she still hated him, he wasn’t sure, but as sure as there were birds in the sky, Kristi had wanted Brett and had been pissed beyond measure that Cliff had had him, however briefly.