Ghost of a Chance

by Kris T. Bethke

  “Your turn.”

  “Yeah. I—” Derek cleared his throat. “Uh. Homebody or social butterfly?” He had to get back on more neutral ground.

  “I hate social settings. Much rather be at home.” Blake’s tone was still rough, and his smile turned just a little bit wicked. “Especially if I’ve got someone special there.”

  “That sounds good,” Derek said before he could stop himself. “But it’s been a while for you, huh? That’s what you said. Miss it?”

  Blake’s grin dropped. “That’s not an Or question.”

  Derek nodded. If Blake felt more comfortable within the confines of their game, Derek could do that. “Okay, then. Rather be playing the field or in a committed relationship?”

  Blake sucked in a breath and straightened, his posture rigid. “Relationship. Not that I’ve had much experience, though, right? Guys run when they learn what I am.”

  Derek stepped closer, wanting to soothe, but he could tell by the way Blake held himself that he wouldn’t welcome comfort just then. Instead of pulling Blake into his arms like he wanted, he kept his voice soft and apologized. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You didn’t. It’s fine.” Blake squinted again, and Derek knew he was lying. He wasn’t going to call him on it, though. “You need to answer the question.”

  “Relationship.” Derek kept his voice soft.

  “You leave anybody behind in Albuquerque?”

  Derek didn’t point out that wasn’t an Or question. He was an open book. It was all about trust, and Derek had learned quickly that Blake was the kind of man he was happy to place his trust in. He also learned that Blake was much more apt to open up if Derek shared first.

  “Nope.”

  Blake raised his eyebrows in question. Or perhaps it was disbelief.

  Derek let out a small laugh. “Don’t look at me like that. Why is that so hard to believe?”

  “Because. You’re amazing. Only a fool would let you go.” Blake’s eyes widened a moment after he finished speaking, as though he were surprised he’d just said that.

  “That’s a very nice thing to say.” Before Blake could get embarrassed, Derek continued, “There were a couple of false starts, sure. But I was focused on my training, and I knew the assignment there was temporary. I could end up being sent anywhere in the US. I didn’t want to start something real if I was just going to leave.”

  Blake’s brow crinkled as he thought that over. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it. Then he did it again. Finally he sighed. “That’s a shame. You’re made to be someone’s other half.”

  “I’ll find someone someday.” Derek was purposefully vague. He was pretty sure Blake would complement him nicely, but that wasn’t in the cards for them. Shouldn’t be anyway. Fate was a cruel bitch sometimes. Giving him someone who had all the makings of being his perfect counterpart if they could just explore the connection between them.

  “Video games or card games?” Derek steered them back to neutral ground.

  Blake frowned, shook himself, and gave Derek a grateful grin. “I’m no good at those game systems. But I like a good card game.”

  “Good. Me too. I have an Uno deck in my bag. Why don’t I get it, and we can play a few rounds while the meat marinates?”

  Blake nodded and pushed off from the counter. “Want something to drink?”

  “Sure.”

  Derek left the kitchen while Blake pulled out a couple of glasses. Derek fought not to notice the way his body stretched as he reached for the top shelf of the cupboard, how the muscles in his back played under his shirt, or the tantalizing strip of skin at his waist that was bared when his shirt rode up.

  He failed.

  Cards. That was safe.

  He gave himself a stern talking to as he went to retrieve the deck. In the morning they would end their sequester and head back to the real world and their lives. The day after that, they would begin their work. Derek needed to focus on that—not on how much he wanted to kiss Blake and see the flush of arousal color his pale neck, not imagine how they’d look entwined together, his dark skin contrasting against Blake’s, not picture laying Blake out, spreading his strong thighs, and sinking into the welcoming heat of Blake’s body.

  A tiny moan escaped his throat before he could check it, but Blake didn’t seem to notice from the other side of the suite. He needed to get himself under control and fast.

  CONSIDERING the short amount of time they’d spent in the suite and what little they each brought with them, it was surprising how far and wide their possessions had managed to roam. Okay. Mostly that was Blake. Derek was sort of particular about putting things back where he took them from, but he’d managed to leave a book lying on the end table, his favorite tea strainer beside the kitchen sink, and his tablet on the coffee table.

  Blake’s things were everywhere. He tended to get hot and pull off his sweater and then become cold several hours later. Instead of putting on the sweater he’d taken off, he’d go get something new. There were sweatshirts, sweaters, and socks strewn in haphazard locations around the suite. With their sequester drawing to a close, Derek helped Blake locate his missing articles of clothing.

  Not the socks, though. That was all Blake.

  Derek found himself more than reluctant to say goodbye, even if it was temporary. While they had the rest of the day off, they were to report back bright and early the day after to begin working in earnest. The past three days had been good—really good—and they’d gotten to know each other pretty well. In spite of that, or maybe because of it, it felt more like an ending than a beginning. He’d grown used to Blake in his space, and he liked it—liked having Blake’s scent around him, his sounds in the background as they occupied the same space. There was a connection between them that Derek couldn’t explain, a pull toward Blake that didn’t make sense.

  The more they got to know each other, the more Derek wanted to know. With each passing hour, the attraction grew. The moment they met, Derek thought Blake was beautiful, but now that he understood Blake better and knew how he thought and acted, Derek didn’t want to leave him. Even telling himself that it was just for a few hours—not even a whole day—before he would see Blake again, didn’t help. They had each other’s numbers and could text and talk whenever they wanted. Even their tablets were connected with a direct-messaging app that would work no matter where they were. Ostensibly it was so they could share files and information while on a job, but they could just talk too. They might be physically apart for the next twenty hours, but they could speak with each other whenever they wanted.

  It wasn’t enough for Derek.

  Spotting a speck of blue on the couch, Derek walked over and pulled at the fabric until an entire hooded sweatshirt emerged. Derek grinned when he thought of the way Blake had spent the entire previous evening shoving the sleeves up and yanking them down and pulling it on and off, until finally Derek got up and fiddled with the thermostat. He adjusted the settings until he got the suite to stay at a perfect seventy-two degrees.

  The fabric was soft beneath his fingers, the fleece well worn. It was obviously a loved piece of clothing. On a whim Derek pressed it to his face and inhaled deeply. Blake. His scent clung to the sweatshirt—a clean, fresh smell that reminded Derek of a sunshiny spring day—and also a hint of mint, which Derek knew came from Blake’s preferred shampoo.

  “Derek? Have you seen my—oh. Yes, thank you.” Blake wandered over just as Derek lowered the sweatshirt and gave a bright smile as he held out a hand. Derek passed it over and let his fingers slide along the sleeve. He didn’t want to let go, which was ridiculous. Blake pulled it on. As his head emerged, his auburn locks were in complete disarray. Derek fought the urge to reach out and smooth them back into place. Blake did it with a careless swipe. “I was looking for that. It’s my favorite.”

  The whole thing was ridiculous. He’d see Blake again at eight o’clock the next morning.

  Derek cleared his throat. “Have you
got everything?”

  With a squint Blake peered around. He took in the entire suite, and then he nodded once. “Yep. I think so. If I’ve left anything, the cleaning crew will drop it off in my, uh… our office. I can get it tomorrow.”

  “So I guess this is it.” Derek stepped back, and though he couldn’t take his eyes off Blake, he walked toward his own messenger bag, which was neatly stacked on top of his duffel with his sneakers lined up beside it. His coat was draped over the arm of the nearby chair.

  For a long moment, Blake didn’t say anything. His blue eyes were fixed on Derek, unwavering, and Derek felt the intensity even though a good ten feet separated them. The air was electric—charged and heavy—and Derek felt like he should say something.

  Except he had no idea what.

  Everything he thought of seemed too forward—like inviting Blake out to dinner or back to his house. He was sure Blake wanted the peace of his own place. Being in each other’s space wasn’t easy, especially when they’d been strangers three days before.

  Blake blew out a breath and broke eye contact. After a heavy pause, he sat to pull on his boots. Derek moved to the chair so he could dress his own feet. By the time he was finished, Blake was already donning his hat, scarf, and coat.

  “It’s been good.” Blake’s voice was low and throaty, and Derek fought a shiver. “I was worried. But… I think we’re going to be fine, you know?”

  “Yeah,” Derek agreed, pleased that Blake saw it too. He actually thought they’d be more than fine, but he didn’t want to spook Blake by speaking that out loud.

  “So.” Blake moved toward the door, but he stopped with his hand on the handle. He didn’t turn it. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning? I’m sure there will be plenty of cases we can pick and choose from. I’ve asked Shona to mark ones that seem like they’ll be short and easy. I think maybe if we do a couple of those to start with, we can ease into it a bit.”

  Derek smiled. “Unlike jumping into a case seven seconds after meeting each other, hmm?”

  Blake’s laugh was a little self-conscious. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave Derek a sheepish grin. “Well. It worked, didn’t it?”

  “It did.”

  Blake grinned and took a subtle deep breath and pulled open the door. Then he stepped back and held it open. Derek picked up his bags and walked out into the hall. The silence was eerie, and the thick carpets muffled his footsteps. Blake followed him immediately, and together they waited for the elevator.

  Neither man said a word.

  The silence continued as the elevator descended. Blake fidgeted, and Derek glanced between him and the numbers over the door as it slowly counted down. Almost seventy-two hours they’d spent closed up together, and now they were separating and heading back to the real world.

  In all of Derek’s training, no one had mentioned it would suck so much.

  “I’m parked out front,” Blake said as they reached the lobby and the doors slid quietly open.

  Derek blinked, not comprehending for a moment. Then he shook his head to clear it. “I’m in the side lot.” He motioned unnecessarily to the left, past the empty security desk, toward the unobtrusive glass door.

  “I was having a day, and I didn’t feel like walking.” Blake grinned and took a few steps away. His voice was soft when he spoke. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Bright and early.” Derek tried for a grin, but he knew he failed. He lifted a hand in a wave and then jammed it in his pocket. After another moment where they stood and stared awkwardly at each other, Derek shook his head, smiled again, and walked toward the exit. He heard Blake’s footsteps as he too walked away.

  Outside, the frigid air slapped him in the face. It must have warmed up in the three days since he’d parked, because most of the snow had melted off his car. But it was once again freezing. Derek dug his keys out of his pocket, unlocked the car, and slid into the driver’s seat. He tossed his bags on the seat beside him, pumped the gas pedal three times, and turned the ignition. It took a second, but the engine started up. Derek turned up the heat, adjusted the vents, turned on the defrosters, and then sat back and waited for his car to warm.

  It shouldn’t be that hard. He knew something was different about his relationship with Blake. Was it because of the layer of attraction? Was that why Derek wanted nothing more than to leave his car where it was and chase Blake down? It had to be more than that, but Derek didn’t have another explanation for why it felt so wrong to be apart.

  Unless it was just the newness. Blake was Derek’s first ghostwalker. His first partner. And being thrown together had been an intense experience. Blake had done it twice before, and he didn’t seem to be having the same problem Derek was about walking away. So it had to be Derek’s inexperience that was making it so difficult. It had to be why there was an ache in his chest, a longing to see Blake again, even though they’d only been apart for—he checked the dashboard clock—seventeen minutes.

  Heat finally poured through the vents. Derek checked his windows and saw that he had clear visibility. No use sitting in the parking lot, musing over his feelings. He’d see Blake tomorrow. Maybe he’d check in on Blake that night—send him a message just to make sure he’d made it home safely. And after a few days, Derek would be used to their working relationship and all the strange feelings would settle and die down.

  He hoped so, anyway.

  Chapter Ten

  BLAKE absently rubbed at his chest as he walked through the front doors of Requiem and into the bright sunshine. He fought the urge to glance at Derek’s retreating back. He was sad to end their time together, and he was already looking forward to seeing Derek again the next morning. That was hardly any time at all.

  Pushing harder on his chest, Blake frowned. The ache there felt like when he was recovering from a sword wound, but he’d been healed for days. Weird. That had never happened before. Maybe he pulled a muscle? Maybe something had been damaged the last time around, and he just didn’t realize it because he’d been taking it so easy, lounging with Derek for the past few days? Blake shrugged and promised himself he’d get checked out in the medical wing if it persisted.

  The freezing cold didn’t surprise Blake. He’d checked the temperature on his phone just an hour before, and the app showed it was only fifteen degrees. He was surprised by the lack of snow on his car, as the storm that had arrived three days prior had dumped more than a foot. It must have warmed up enough in the meantime to melt the majority off.

  He was also surprised to see his brother—long and lanky and wearing a smirk—leaning against the hood of his sedan.

  Blake scowled for effect, though he didn’t mean it at all. There were three years between them, but he and Sam were incredibly close. The only time they went this long without speaking to each other was all those years ago when Sam sequestered with his anchor, Dominic. Dom didn’t have the gene, but he was a natural caretaker, and he had a commanding air that Sam responded well to. Sam had never had a problem with a male partner. Not like Blake. Of course Sam didn’t come back to life as a sobbing, gibbering, vulnerable mess either.

  “What do you want?” Blake called when he was still a few feet away.

  Sam laughed and straightened. He reached out and took Blake’s bag from him when he was close. “To see you. To hear all about it. Dom and I switched our days off with Lois and Keyanna so I could spend some time with you.”

  Blake raised an eyebrow. “And King was okay with that?”

  Sam’s smile slipped a touch before he caught it and plastered it back into place. “Michael said it was fine.”

  “I’m sure he did. He’ll do anything you want.” Blake kept his voice low and softened it with a smile. He really shouldn’t tease Sam about his unwavering crush on their boss. King was gorgeous, and exactly Sam’s type. His younger brother had been pining after King since pretty much the moment he joined the unit, twelve years earlier. That was a long time to want someone and not have those feelings returned.


  Well, Blake was pretty sure King wanted Sam too. He’d seen the way King watched him when he thought no one was looking. But that would never happen, not as long as King was the boss. It wasn’t appropriate. And while King had a good rapport with his operatives and they were much more like a big family than an office of coworkers, King would never abuse his authority.

  “I looked up Derek Scott in the database.” Sam let out a low whistle, and Blake let him change the subject. “Good lord on a stick, that man is beautiful. And he has the gene. Does that make a difference? Really? Everyone says it does, but Dom is pretty fantastic without it. And Katy was too. And Keyanna, and Abernathy, and—”

  “Yes.” Blake cut Sam off before he could list every anchor currently employed in their division. “It makes a difference.”

  Blake opened his door and slid into the driver’s seat. Sam scrambled around the other side of the car, tossed Blake’s bag in the back, and then got into the passenger seat. Though he only half meant it, Blake turned and fixed him with a harsh glare.

  Sam waggled his eyebrows. “Dom dropped me off. My car is at home.”

  Blake let out a put-upon sigh. Since he and Sam lived in the same complex—their condos were across the street from each other—he’d be able to ditch Sam once they got home. He could put up with the inquisition for the fifteen or so minutes it would take them to get there.

  “So,” Sam said as Blake put the car in gear. “What’s he like?”

  “He’s….” Blake checked to make sure the coast was clear and pulled out of the lot and onto the road. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and finally settled on simply “He’s not anything like I expected.”

  “You mean on account of him being a guy?” Sam’s bark of laughter made him grin.

  Blake nodded. “Well there is that, of course. But it’s more. He’s, like, this huge dude, right? Dark skin, ginormous hands, wide shoulders. But he’s gentle and kind and caring. And he’s an amazing cook. He drinks tea, meditates, listens when I speak, and really really wants to do the job well. He thinks what we do is valid and worthy, and he’s proud to do his part. And he didn’t even freak out when he saw me come back to life and saw what a complete and total mess I was.”