by Lynda Aicher
“A boyfriend, huh?” He ignored the escort part in favor of going with the positive.
Carter stiffened. “Fuck buddy then.”
“I like boyfriend better.” Rock let the word wrap around him. Yeah, that sounded good. He wanted to lean over and brush a kiss over Carter’s lips, but he resisted. “What was the trigger this time?”
“Trigger?” Carter asked, confusion lining his frown.
“Like PTSD. There’s usually something—a trigger—that sets a person off. You flipped so fast, I just wonder what yours was.” There had been one. That second when the panic hit and Carter had simply reacted. But Rock didn’t know what it was.
“You said I’m your first.” Carter swallowed before the rest rushed out. “That’s special.”
“Yeah.” Rock definitely agreed to that. Yet there was an element of hesitation in his voice because he wasn’t sure where the conversation was going. “But you already knew that.”
Carter glanced around, his fingers tapping on the table before he finally said, “There’s no value in what I do.”
“I’m not following.”
“What I do is seen as worthless and degrading. Even the johns who pay for me see me as something they can toss aside when they’re done. I get that, even if you don’t.”
“Still not with you,” Rock said, keeping his voice even as he tried to piece the logic together. “I’m not a john and I don’t agree with what you’re saying.”
“What part?”
“The value part.”
Carter stared out over the diner, his face blank. “To the world, what I do is worthless. You shouldn’t give away something special to someone like me.”
Rock’s anger was stalled by the arrival of their food. He clenched his teeth and shuffled through the rise of cascading thoughts as he processed what Carter had said.
“Here you go, boys.” The waitress set their plates down, and with a quick glance between them, left with a “I’ll be back with more coffee.”
Neither of them touched their food and Carter wouldn’t look at him. His appetite had apparently vanished. Not surprising.
“Look at me,” Rock said. He needed Carter to see that he meant his next words. “You are worth more than I’ve given you. What you’ve given me has nothing to do with what you do or what anyone else in this damn world thinks. When are you going to separate what you do from who you are?”
“I can’t,” he insisted, the fire of belief fueling his angry advance. “When are you going to get that I am nothing more than this?” He waved a hand down his body, his meaning clear.
Rock shook his head in disbelief. “You are so much more than a body. You’re the only one who doesn’t believe that.”
“Bullshit. Don’t you see? I have nothing to offer you.”
“And what are you going to do in six weeks?” The way Carter froze told him he hadn’t expected the question. Shock changed to anger then defeat before he turned away to stare stonily across the diner. Carter tried to move his leg away, but Rock followed, not letting the contact go.
“You know I have the data.” He waited for Carter to acknowledge him but got nothing. “Are you renewing your contract?” He’d like to say Carter’s answer didn’t matter, but it did. He could be distant about Carter’s job now. He worked at a sex club and he logically understood that acts didn’t mean shit without the emotional connection. But the more his emotions got tied to Carter, the less he wanted to share him. The less he wanted to see the pain and hurt Carter tried to hide.
“It fucking sucks that you know that shit about my life.” Resignation and annoyance were both in Carter’s voice.
“I want to help you.”
“Why?”
“You really have to ask that?” The sharp clench of his stomach felt like he’d received a hard kick there. He grabbed his fork and shoveled a heap of hash browns into his mouth to keep from saying anything else. He tasted nothing but chewed diligently before going back for more.
The motions of eating were just that, motions. He focused on his food and methodically took each bite as he worked his way through the cooling breakfast. The waitress had never returned to refill their coffee and he couldn’t blame her. Their body language screamed fight as well as loud voices and flying fists would.
“I’m not signing again.”
The low words had Rock going still, his egg-filled fork halfway to his mouth. He looked up to see Carter staring at him, his food untouched.
“I’d already decided that before I met you.” He wet his lips and pressed them tight. “I’m done with the agency.”
Rock set his fork down and wiped his mouth with his napkin, careful to keep his expression neutral. There was no way he’d show the relief that rushed through him. “Do you have a plan?”
Carter’s shrug was stiff. “Some ideas.”
“Care to share?”
Carter dropped his gaze to the table before looking back to Rock. “I was thinking of trying to make a go at it with my photography. My savings are good. It’ll hold me for a while. That’s the only skill I have besides what I currently do.”
Rock nodded, taking the next step carefully. “I can help you build a website.” It was pointless to argue Carter’s perception on his skills and worth. No one could change that view except Carter himself. He knew that from experience. But damn, he would do whatever he could to show the man how wrong he was. Carter’s self-doubt was keeping him—them—from moving forward.
“Yeah?”
“No problem. You can upload photos, set up a shopping cart and define prices based on size, framing, et cetera. Offer your services—”
“Wait.” Carter held up his hand to cut Rock off, his eyes wide. “You’re way ahead of me.” His laugh was thin, but good to hear. “I don’t even know if anyone will buy my stuff.”
“And you never will if you don’t try.”
Carter picked a blueberry off his plate and flicked it at Rock. “Smartass.”
He caught the flying fruit and popped it into his mouth with a smile. “Can’t help it. It’s part of my natural charm.”
“Oh, that’s what it is?”
Rock picked his fork back up. “Definitely.” He winked at Carter and ducked his head, smiling. The breakfast was beyond cold now, but he was suddenly hungry. He could help Carter. He had a purpose now. Once they got the website up, Carter could see how people responded to his work. Give him some confidence to back up his ability. There had to be some contests out there he could enter to get more exposure. Rock could dig into that too.
“Thanks, Rock.”
He looked up. “For what?”
“Never judging me.” Carter bumped his leg against Rock’s in a move that was so normal between them now that it was like a hug.
“Have you ever judged me?”
“No.”
“Then what right do I have to judge you?” He thought of the list of things that were judgment-worthy about himself, the top of which was his years of denial that had bound him to a life of unhappiness.
“That usually doesn’t stop people.”
“True.” He shrugged. “But I’m not like most people.”
Carter laughed, the sound easing more of the tightness that had clenched around Rock’s chest. “That is way too true.”
“Lucky for you.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, distracted. “Lucky for me.”
And lucky for Rock too. If he was even close to what others considered normal than he never would’ve had a chance at being with this man. That was just too damn lonely to think about. “We can head over to my place after this and I can show you some ideas for a website if you’re interested.”
Carter speared a piece of melon on his plate. “Yeah.” He nodded, his voice growing stronger. “I’d like that.”
“We can run through options and layouts today then you can think about what you want to do with it.” He was pushing, but Carter’s hesitation was clear. He couldn’t let him back out of someth
ing that would be so good for him.
Carter just nodded before focusing on his food. That was a start. Rock would work on the rest later, because even the thought of Carter backing away from him left him cold and empty inside.
Chapter Twenty
The harsh buzz rang through the loft, the deep sound bouncing off the open space to reach Rock in a hollow rumble. He jerked away from the computer screen, glanced at the computer clock, then swung the chair around to the computer behind him. He typed in the access code to the security camera that monitored the building entrance and was greeted by Deklan’s scowling face as he stared directly into the camera.
Rock chuckled and sent the code that unlocked the front door. Dek gave a short salute then disappeared from the screen. He’d never told the man he’d hacked into the building’s security network. Deklan just knew him well enough to know that he would.
He shut down the programs he’d been running on two of his other computers then closed down the windows on another. His home office was a windowless cave of technology. The builder had thought he was crazy, saying it would lower the resale value when he’d requested the inner room. Like that mattered to him.
He locked the door out of habit more than a worry that Deklan would go in there. It wasn’t a secret that Rock did contract work for the Army. It was the information he worked on that was.
The rap sounded on the door as he walked through the living room. He pushed the sleeves up on his shirt and unlocked the door.
“Hey,” he said as he stepped back to let Deklan in. “What are you doing here?”
Deklan hung his coat up and sat his tall frame down on the bench to remove his boots. “I was in the area, thought I’d stop in.”
Rock gave a snort and headed into the kitchen for a couple of beers. “Right.”
“You don’t believe me?”
It didn’t matter if he did. The man was obviously there for a reason. “What do you want?” He twisted the lids off and handed a bottle to Deklan before tossing the caps into the trash.
“A beer.” Deklan took a long swallow and smiled, his lone dimple appearing on his cheek. All traces of the stoic military man disappeared behind the boyish appeal. That one thing countered the beefy muscles and high and tight haircut that was only slightly grown out. “Got any cookies?”
Rock was already setting the container on the counter. Deklan popped the lid off, grabbed two peanut butter cookies before snapping it closed again.
“Thanks,” he mumbled around a mouthful of cookie. “I think these are my favorite.”
“You said that about the macadamia chocolate ones, too.”
Deklan waved his hand. “Whatever.”
Rock leaned on the counter and sipped at his own beer as he waited for Deklan to talk. For two men who didn’t care a whole lot for conversation, they managed to communicate just fine. What Deklan was saying now was he had something to talk about and he’d spit it out when he was ready.
Deklan went to the living room and plopped down on the big leather couch, making himself at home. He was the only person besides Rock’s little sister who ever did that. Of course, it wasn’t like he had a lot of visitors dropping by either. Not until Carter, anyway.
Yeah, Carter did that now, too.
Rock sat in the big chair next to the couch and studied his friend. There were stress lines around his eyes and a stiffness in his shoulders that went with the tight grip he had on his bottle.
Rock kicked out his feet and crossed his ankles, settling in until Deklan was ready to spill. If he did. There’d been times in the past when the man had shown up, drunk a beer and left with barely a word. Rock understood that too. There’d been more than one occasion when he’d done the same thing to Deklan.
He reached for the remote and clicked on the television. A search of the channels found nothing, so he turned the volume down and left a sports station on that was running highlights of last weekend’s games.
“I bought Kendra a ring.” There was no inflection in Deklan’s tone. It was just a flat statement that left Rock guessing on how to respond, so he didn’t. Deklan finished his beer and sat the bottle on the end table before he scrubbed his hands over his hair and sighed. “I never thought I’d want to marry someone.”
Rock gave a grunt of agreement. Marriage had definitely been off his list of things to do. He’d never entertained the thought, even when his denial was at its deepest. Spending his life with someone had always felt like a sentence of penance.
Until now.
He stared at his beer bottle, his gut clenching at the realization. He was having way too many of those shiny new realizations lately.
“I’m still not sure,” Deklan finally admitted. He dropped his head on the back of the couch and rubbed his eyes.
Rock shuffled through a couple of possible responses before he ended up saying his initial reaction anyway. “So hold on to the ring until you are.”
“Yeah.” Deklan dropped his hand to the couch but kept his eyes closed.
The low tone of the sports journalist flowed through the room, taking up the dead air without pressuring either of them to talk. Ultimately that was one of the best things about watching sports. There was never a requirement to talk about anything. You only had to cheer when appropriate and know enough to grunt an agreement or disapproval if someone wanted to debate a call or play.
“I don’t even know if she’ll say yes.” There was the doubt that was eating at Deklan.
Rock took a drink to hide his smile, not that Deklan was looking at him. “You won’t know that until you ask.”
“No shit.”
“So ask.”
“What if she says no?”
“If you really thought that, you wouldn’t have bought the ring.” Rock knew that for a fact. The man rarely moved without knowing what was ahead. His instincts were outstanding.
Deklan scoffed out a laugh. “Right. It’s impossible to know what a woman is thinking.”
There was another statement Rock couldn’t respond to. He might agree, but it wasn’t what his friend wanted to hear.
Deklan swiped his empty off the table and stalked to the kitchen. Rock shook his head when the man held up another beer in silent question. He still had work to finish before Carter came over that night. It was hard to believe they’d been “dating” for almost two months.
The weeks had blended into days of lunches filled with conversation that finished with hot sex and more and more nights of Carter staying over. Dinners at home, even the grocery shopping beforehand, had become events they shared. Things he looked forward to.
“What’s that look for?”
Rock jerked upright, instantly on guard. “What?”
Deklan narrowed his eyes. “That is the happiest expression I think I’ve ever seen on you. Who in the hell are you fucking?”
If the floor had dropped out beneath him, he wouldn’t have been more shocked. As it was, he was frozen in place, dread holding him in a death grip, a manic cackle of doom ringing in his mind.
He finally barked a gruff sound that was supposed to have been a laugh and rolled his shoulders. “Like I’d fucking tell you.” He knew he was caught, so full denial was pointless.
“So that’s why you’ve been taking so many nights off.” Deklan raised his beer in a toast as he sat back down. “It’s about time.”
The sick stew of self-disgust brewed in his stomach and he dropped his gaze, unable to hold the lie with Deklan. The man was his commanding officer, his best friend and someone he trusted with his life. But could he trust him with his secrets?
“Rock. What’s wrong?”
He couldn’t look at Deklan, even though the man had used his order voice. A good soldier looked his superior in the eye. And a good soldier wasn’t a pansy. He wasn’t gay.
And who the fuck made that rule? Who the fuck equated being gay with being a weaker, lower-classed person? Who the fuck defined that being gay was wrong? And why in the fuck had he listened to
that crap for so long?
He snapped his head up, eyes drilling into Deklan with the hardness that had settled through him. His heart rammed against his ribs, the enormity of the moment beating through every nerve, despite the cold that had settled into his bones. “His name is Carter.” He waited a beat. “I’m gay.”
He’d said it and he still couldn’t believe it. His jaw ached, his stomach churned and he couldn’t move. His focus was on every tick, flinch and reaction that came from Deklan. Only nothing came. The man was immobile, his reaction nonexistent.
“You expect me to react to that?” Deklan never dropped his gaze and his voice held no inflection.
“Most will.”
“You say that like I’m most people.”
That got him and he should’ve felt bad. It was what he’d said to Carter and now he’d done the same thing to Deklan, but he was too ready for the attack to process that. He set his beer bottle down, his hands fisting as he waited for Deklan to move. Expecting him to.
Deklan slowly sat back and took a long drink of his beer. He shook his head before looking back to Rock. “Have I ever given you the impression that I was a bigoted ass?”
He analyzed the question, his mind shuffling through the facts filed within it to come up with a single answer. “No.”
“Then why are you sitting there poised for an attack?” Deklan raised a brow then took another drink.
Rock’s defenses slowly started to uncoil when Deklan didn’t say or do anything more. He straightened his fingers and pressed them flat to his thighs in an effort to relax. But he kept his eyes on Deklan, watching, waiting for the ambush.
Deklan heaved an exhausted breath. “I run a fucking BDSM club. I’m a Dom, for Christ’s sake.” He shook his head and focused on the flat screen, but Rock caught the twitch of muscles that bunched along his jaw. “I don’t care who you’re with or what you do. I thought you’d know that.”
The relief and embarrassment flushed away the adrenaline spike, leaving Rock jittery. He picked up his bottle and swallowed down the last of the brew before he hung his head. The bottle dangled from his hand as he focused on the decreasing rate of his pulse. Deklan didn’t hate him.