by K. C. Burn
Kyle patted his leg. “Doesn’t matter. You’re on a first-name basis with one of the local cops. We’re going to be able to waltz right in. Trust me.”
“Shouldn’t I…call him instead?” That was better. Then he wouldn’t have to face Cliff looking at him like he was insane. Why hadn’t he thought of this before Kyle bundled him out of the house?
“Nope. Face-to-face is better. You’ll be better able to convince him of your sincere need to know, in person. Especially with…” Kyle waved a finger to indicate Drew’s war wounds. “Trust me. He won’t be able to deny you anything.”
Drew wished he was as confident of that as Kyle, but they were here, and he was still incredibly unsettled about the whole thing.
“I suppose it can’t hurt to try.” As long as Cliff didn’t dump him after this. Or move out. It hadn’t been very long, but Drew already liked having Cliff around the house.
“That’s the spirit. C’mon.”
An unwelcome suspicion hit Drew as he got out of the car. It was entirely possible Kyle was pushing because this gave him a better chance at gaining Brett’s attention. However, Drew wasn’t interested in having an argument about it, especially since he didn’t want to get stranded here if Kyle got offended and drove off in a huff. Besides, Kyle’s logic had been irrefutable, although that was possibly the head wound talking.
They managed to make it all the way to the guesthouse before anyone even questioned their presence, which seemed weird to Drew. After all, he must look incredibly disreputable since he hadn’t bothered with any cover-up. If he wasn’t working, it was too fucking hot to bother with makeup.
Or perhaps he just looked like a zombie extra or something. Not that Phantoms had ever had a zombie episode, as far as he knew.
A uniformed police officer strode to where they’d been detained by a crew member. The lights might be playing tricks on Drew, but he was pretty sure Cliff hadn’t suddenly turned into a blond man. His heart fluttered at the prospect of trying to explain to a complete stranger why he wanted to interrupt Cliff at work. For a completely ridiculous reason. A cop wouldn’t believe in the supernatural any more than Drew did.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The guy smiled as he approached. “Hey there. I was going to give you the standard spiel about how the film shoot is closed to bystanders and all that, but you aren’t just bystanders. Let me radio Cliff.”
Drew would have raised his eyebrows in shock, but he’d learned the hard way to curb that motion. The cop turned away and spoke quietly into his radio, and somehow, Drew had no idea what he said.
“What the fuck is going on?” Drew whispered to Kyle. No way it should be this easy. No fucking way. Although…half the town must know Cliff was staying at his house. Had gossip linked them as a couple already? Drew didn’t have a problem with that, but he had no idea how Cliff felt about it.
The cop turned back to them with a smile that would have been goofy if he hadn’t been wearing a very official-looking uniform. “I’m Scott Hunter, Cliff’s friend.”
“I’m Kyle Grainger, and this is Drew Drummond.” Kyle positively simpered at the good-looking blond. Ridiculous, really. After all, Drew might have the world’s most useless gaydar, but there was no way Scott was gay.
Scott chuckled. “I was pretty sure I knew who Drew was. If the red hair didn’t give it away…” Scott looked uncomfortable and waved a finger in the vicinity of Drew’s forehead. “But it’s nice to officially meet you both.”
Drew smiled uncertainly. He wasn’t sure how to act around Cliff’s friends, mostly because he didn’t know how Cliff wanted him to act around Cliff’s friends. Hell, half the time he was still worried about slipping up and actually calling him North. He hoped that maybe he’d have the opportunity to get to know Scott better, but a few good orgasms and a place to crash didn’t necessarily spell the foundation of a relationship, no matter what Drew hoped for or wanted.
“How’s the head, by the way?”
For a single, insane moment, Drew thought Scott was asking about the quality of the last blowjob. Kyle’s muffled cough-slash-laugh told Drew he wasn’t alone with his mind in the gutter.
“Oh, er, well, it’s not as painful as it was.”
“Good, good. You had Cliff worried there.”
Was that a good thing? Drew couldn’t deny the sudden warmth that flooded his belly, knowing Cliff had worried about him.
Fortunately, Drew didn’t have to figure out the most appropriate response, because Cliff was jogging toward them. The warmth in Drew’s belly intensified, as it always did at the sight of Cliff.
SEEING DREW CALMED the initial spurt of dread Cliff had felt when Scott radioed him. There was no good reason for Drew to seek him out here, and he’d worried that something was wrong. But Kyle was standing next to him, which eased Cliff’s mind a bit. While Kyle and Drew both looked slightly overwhelmed at the crazy bustle of the crew, aside from some lingering exhaustion, Drew looked… Cliff didn’t know how to finish that sentence. There was no denying that Drew’s good looks were temporarily marred by the bruising and stitches, but the sight of him comforted something deep in Cliff, and it was good. Cliff couldn’t imagine seeing Drew would ever be bad.
Cliff skidded to a stop in front of Drew. “Hey there.” He was tempted, oh so tempted, to cup Drew’s face and kiss him right there in front of everyone. Stake a claim. But that wasn’t the sort of thing he could just spring on Drew. Not until they’d talked about it. Not even when Drew took a tiny step forward, with a look in his eyes like he’d welcome such a gesture.
“Hey.” Drew smiled, and for a moment Cliff was able to shut out everyone else and just stare into Drew’s big blue eyes.
Drew licked his lips, and Cliff bit back a groan. God. He was as horny as a teenager, but it wasn’t just the sex. There was something else about Drew. Something that meant he was crashing headlong into feelings he shouldn’t be feeling yet. But he didn’t know how to stop it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Kyle cleared his throat, and Cliff finally paid attention to the other two men, both of whom were unsuccessfully hiding smirks. Maybe Cliff’s dreams of a relationship—out and proud—with Drew weren’t as farfetched as he feared.
“Are you okay? What’s up?” Cliff peered closely at Drew, trying to assess him for medical reasons this time.
Drew shrugged. “I’m okay. I just…wanted to ask you about that crash on the highway.”
Odd. “What did you want to know?” It hadn’t been pretty. Lots of injuries and a couple of fatalities.
As though he could sense Drew’s discomfort, Scott offered to grab a couple of coffees from craft services. Such as they were. Brett had spent the last hour bitching about the limited options available in a small town late at night, and Cliff had been only too glad to get a break from his babysitting duties.
Scott jogged off, and Kyle wandered away as though trying to give them some privacy, although Cliff had no idea why that would be necessary. He waited for an answer to his question.
“It’s just that…” Drew frowned at him. “I don’t want to upset you.”
Fuck it. Cliff stepped forward and cupped Drew’s face. “I know this has been a crazy few days, but this is more than just sex for me.” God, that was fucking scary to say, especially since he felt more strongly for Drew in less than a week than he’d ever felt for Brett. If this crashed and burned like his last relationship, Cliff might never recover.
“Me too,” Drew whispered and licked his lips again.
The temptation was breaking Cliff. “I want people to know we’re together. Are you okay with that?”
“I am if you are. You don’t mind people knowing about you? About us?”
“Not at all.”
The happiness thoroughly drowned out his Brett-induced crankiness and the lingering heartsickness from dealing with injuries and fatalities at the highway pileup. He’d probably have to put up with some more shit from the evil Drummond twins, but they were just g
oing to have to accept that Cliff was going to be in the picture as long as Drew wanted him there.
Without even glancing around to see who might be watching—and since most of the crew had been imported from California, it was unlikely they’d care—Cliff kissed Drew. Tenderly, sweetly, and with all the burgeoning feeling in his heart.
Drew pressed himself against Cliff, and Cliff fervently wished he weren’t on duty. When Drew made moves to deepen the kiss, Cliff gathered the tattered remnants of his self-control and pulled back.
For a split second, Drew looked confused and hurt, until the sound of someone shouting orders reminded him where they were. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Don’t be sorry. If you’re still awake when I’m done my shift, we’ll pick up where we left off. If you’re not, we’ll have time in the morning.” If Cliff had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t be spending another minute sleeping on that futon.
“I’d like that.”
“Now that we’ve got that settled, what brought you all the way out here?” He’d ask about Kyle’s presence, but Cliff didn’t give a damn if Kyle had lied about having plans this weekend. If he hadn’t, it might have taken weeks or months to get where Cliff was with Drew. Or maybe even never. Without their being thrown together, Cliff might have been scared off by the thought of getting involved with a Drummond.
“The accident on the highway. I did a reading with a tourist, right before she was heading out of town, and…I was just worried she might have been involved. She was a nice older lady.”
Surprisingly, Cliff only felt a tiny twinge of discomfort at the reminder of Drew’s occupation. But then, it was something he’d have to accept if he was going to be in Drew’s life, which meant Cliff was going to give Drew the benefit of the doubt. “I really shouldn’t talk about the people involved, not until that information has been released to the public.”
Tension tightened Drew’s face, and he clutched at Cliff’s forearms. “Please. I need to know. Her last name was Gillespie. She was in a silver car with…with Connecticut plates.”
Agitation was making Drew shake, and Cliff wasn’t going to aggravate Drew’s health. “I’m sorry, Drew. She was badly injured, and her husband was killed on impact. I’m not sure if she’s going to make it or not, but I know they’ve contacted her son, who is on his way down.”
Drew paled and lifted a trembling hand to his lips. “Oh my God.”
“I’m sorry.” Cliff didn’t know what else to say. He wouldn’t have expected Drew to care so much about a random tourist who’d come in for a reading.
Scott returned at that moment with coffee, and Kyle gravitated back to the group as well. Drew grabbed at the paper cup like it was a lifeline, and Cliff wished there was something else he could do to make Drew feel better.
“This is where you disappeared to.” Brett shouldered his way into the circle, making Cliff’s lip curl. The chief had certainly called this job right. Babysitting, through and through. None of the fans who’d appeared so far had been dangerous, and Brett had positively preened whenever one appeared and worshipped.
“Where’s my coffee?”
Scott raised an eyebrow and lifted his cup before taking a big sip. “At craft services, same as mine was.”
Cliff barely held in a laugh. It hadn’t taken Scott long to realize what a jackass Brett could be, and the shiny celebrity adulation had tarnished far quicker than Cliff had expected.
“Aren’t you going to get it for me?”
“Not hardly. We’re glorified babysitters not glorified waiters.”
This time, Cliff couldn’t hold in the laugh, which earned him a glare from Brett. “Get your own fucking coffee, Brett. I’m sure you remember how, from back when you were one of the little people.”
Brett’s struggle with his temper was visibly apparent, and he pasted on his trademark smile, which Cliff knew was fake as all hell.
“You did bring me some pretties, so all is forgiven.” Brett leered at Kyle, then turned his attention to Drew. Brett’s expression of distaste was readily apparent even before he opened his mouth. “Well, one pretty, at least.”
Between Brett’s grimace and harsh words, Drew’s cheeks reddened, and he moved to take a step back, away from Brett’s noxious influence.
Cliff couldn’t let it go, though, and wrapped an arm around Drew’s shoulders. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Brett?” Drew was gorgeous, no matter how banged up he was now, and fault for the bruises could be laid squarely at Brett’s feet, even if it had been one of Drew’s temperamental brothers who’d actually delivered them.
Brett frowned at Cliff. “Surely you don’t want him over me? Sure, he’s a sweet morsel when he’s not looking like a zombie, and if you want, we can play with him later. You know I never objected to bringing in a third.”
Cliff flashed hot and cold, unable to believe Brett had just laid out their dirty laundry like that. Kyle and Scott had both gasped, but Drew stiffened beside him and stepped away.
“You may think you were a dream in bed, but you clearly didn’t think I was, or you wouldn’t have cheated on me,” said Cliff. That brought another gasp from Kyle and caused Drew to step even farther away, but Cliff wasn’t done. “I’m not sure when you became the biggest asshole on the planet, or maybe you always were and I just never noticed, but there is simply no cause for taking out whatever anger you have toward me on Drew. He doesn’t deserve it.”
Brett’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. When you’re back in LA, you’ll be begging to get back into my bed.”
What would it take to get this through Brett’s thick skull? Picturing Brett as a stalker was no longer difficult. This inability to understand that someone wanted nothing more to do with him was typical of stalkers.
“I’m not coming back to LA. As I’ve told you numerous times.” Until now, he hadn’t been sure if he was planning to stay in Sandy Bottom Bay either, but if things worked out with Drew, Cliff was home for good. And surprisingly, he was more than okay with that idea. Assuming he could smooth this over with Drew.
“Please. You’re not serious about wanting to stay in this little podunk town. Not when you worked so hard to leave it. As soon as you get tired of this little boy toy, you’ll come crawling back to me.”
Cliff clenched his fists. “Don’t fucking talk about Drew like that.” He was coming close to losing his cool, and he didn’t think his new chief or the mayor would consider Cliff punching out a celebrity to be appropriate publicity for the Haunt Fest.
“Whoa.” Scott stepped between him and Brett. “The name calling is completely out of line. Brett, I think you should take a walk, calm down a bit.”
Normally Brett would have sneered at someone telling him what to do, but Scott was a big guy, and right now there was no doubt he was the authority figure a cop should be. With a curl of his lip, Brett whirled away and stomped back to where the crew was working.
Cliff didn’t give a shit about Brett’s temper tantrum. Sure, it might come back and bite him in the ass later, if Brett decided to complain to Chief Walker, but through the wondrous magic of breaking up, Cliff didn’t have to worry about placating Brett. He was far too worried about placating Drew, who did not appear to be taking Brett’s ill-timed revelation well.
“Drew. I’m sorry. There never seemed to be a good time to tell you.”
Drew rubbed the back of his neck, and Kyle moved in close to wrap an arm around him. It made Cliff grit his teeth because he didn’t want Kyle to be the one comforting Drew.
“I wish you had said something earlier. I feel like…I feel like Brett was laughing at me the whole time. Like this was some sort of joke on the redneck hick, and you were in on it.”
The pain in Drew’s words was like a kick in the stomach. “I wasn’t. I swear. I really had planned to tell you. It wasn’t a secret—I’d already told Scott.”
Drew narrowed his eyes, some of the hurt giving way to anger. “Scott? And not me?”
; Cliff held up his hands in supplication. “Not because I didn’t think you deserved to know. But I suspected Brett was going to use our past relationship to try and make trouble for me at work, and I wanted Scott to be prepared. I had planned to tell you, but there really hasn’t been a lot of opportunity to have a discussion with you, not since we decided we were serious about us.” Cliff’s stomach twisted, just a bit, at having this conversation in front of two bystanders. He’d wanted to be out and proud in a relationship, but he hadn’t necessarily imagined that would include airing out a huge snafu in front of an audience.
He stared at Drew, hoping his sincerity and regret was evident in his expression. “And if I’m honest, I was hoping he’d crawl away without you ever having to deal with him. I’m sorry. I should have said something.”
Frowning, Drew remained silent while Cliff wondered if the good thing they’d started was going to be over before Cliff had even had a chance to get comfortable.
After an interminable silence, Drew nodded, and a faint smile curved his lips. There was something still bothering Drew, though, and Cliff would make sure he figured out what it was, just as soon as he was off duty.
His and Scott’s radios crackled, reporting a fire at the bakery on Main Street and calling in all available officers. It probably made more sense for Scott to go, since he had more experience with Sandy Bottom Bay emergency services, no matter how uncomfortable it would be for Cliff to babysit Brett.
Scott glanced at Drew before speaking. “You go. I’ll stick it out with Brett until you’re back.”
Relief flooded Cliff, and he had to bite back a huge grin because it was hardly appropriate to be happy about a bad fire.
“Thanks, man.” Cliff took a good look at Drew, who had paled considerably and was clinging to Kyle as though he was having trouble standing. “Hey. Are you okay? Do you need me to take you back to the hospital?”