Doubleback

by Lissa Ford

  Jude had his own medical issues to deal with, but they’d been a minor, overnight-stay-for-observation type. He’d been concussed, suffered some scabbing on his face from when the duct tape had been ripped away, and had hyperventilated, but other than that had come through the ordeal in fairly good shape. As soon as his health was cleared, the debriefing on Kyle Blake’s homicidal rampage had been intense. Jude’s homestead had become a crime scene once again; Jude had taken Rowan up on his offer to stay at his place until everything settled down.

  “Christ, now what?” Jude said as pulled up to the curb in front of Rowan’s loft, where a local television news crew waited with a camera and reporters.

  “You’re an Internet star, baby!” Rowan laughed. “Next thing you know, you’ll be on Good Morning America along with the cat that plays the ukulele.”

  Jude scowled. No one knew how it happened, but the video from the unmarked cruiser’s in-car camera showing Jude stumbling out of the woods with Rowan over his shoulder had been YouTubed. The footage showed Jude sinking to his knees as soon as he reached the clearing, exhausted and clutching Rowan for dear life. Both had been soaked to the bone and covered in blood. Paramedics swarmed them both, but in his delirium Jude wouldn’t let go of Rowan; the wounded homicide detective had to be gently pried out of Jude’s arms. The video had gone viral and was now hitting televised gossip shows. Jude was now a media hero. It was a nice change from being a pariah.

  “I’ll handle this.” Jude grimly put the truck into park and handed Rowan his baggie of prescriptions from the hospital pharmacy. The cameraman pointed his lens at Rowan, who flashed a smile, damn him. As Jude hurried around to open Rowan’s door and help him out, a perky female newscaster on extremely skinny heels tottered toward them. “May I ask you a few questions about the incident in the woods, Mr. Anderson?”

  “No, you may not.” Jude protectively eased Rowan out of the truck and turned his back to the camera crew.

  “You and Detective Muir seem close.”

  “Do we?” Jude’s eyes flicked to Rowan, to see how he’d take that. But Rowan was watching Jude.

  “Anyone viewing the footage would think so,” the newscaster burbled. “It’s already got over a million hits!”

  Was that supposed to mean something?

  “We’re just friends,” Jude answered repressively.

  “Did your friendly feelings for Detective Muir give you the strength and the courage to survive the horrific ordeal?”

  “No comment.”

  “But—”

  “I said no comment.”

  Undaunted, the reporter pointed the microphone at Rowan. “What about you, Detective Muir?”

  “Well, I—” Rowan began.

  “He’s recovering,” Jude interrupted brusquely.

  “Another time?” The reporter offered an optimistic smile. “Let me give you my card.”

  Jude ignored the extended card as he helped Rowan navigate the front steps under the scrutiny of the camera’s lens. “No interviews,” he said, and closed the door on their hopeful faces.

  “That was rude,” Rowan chuckled. He leaned into Jude more fully now that the cameras were gone.

  Jude got them in the elevator and rapidly poked the close button a few times in case the news crew tried to follow. “I’ll go get your stuff out of the truck after they leave.”

  “What if they’ve set up a stakeout?”

  “I’m not that interesting.”

  “You are to me.”

  Jude’s annoyance melted away. He bent and pressed a kiss to Rowan’s waiting lips. Rowan flushed, but he didn’t look away when Jude’s eyes met his. They were staring bashfully at each other when the elevator dinged and opened onto Rowan’s floor.

  Rowan refused to go straight to bed like a good boy, despite his obvious exhaustion. Instead, he settled on the couch with the remote while Jude puttered in the kitchen, preparing a simple meal. While Jude was assembling the sandwiches, his phone chirped. He pulled it out of his pocket and smiled.

  “It’s Kristy.” Jude tilted the phone to read the text out loud. “She says she made a mistake buying the jumbo pack of Three Musketeers bars because there haven’t been any trick-or-treaters yet. I told her so. Like any parent would bring their kid out to trick-or-treat at a crime scene buried deep in the woods.”

  Kristy had flown in from Costa Rica as soon as she could and immediately began taking over Jude’s domestic life. She’d dealt with the press and acted as a gatekeeper for law enforcement while Jude was in the hospital, along with his neighbor, Riley.

  Riley, who had captured the horses before the storm broke. Riley, who had poisoned Shiloh.

  It was the first time Jude had ever seen the gruff former Marine look chastened. “She must have eaten one of the poisoned rats,” he told Jude. “I didn’t put two and two together until I saw a half-poisoned crow flapping around the carcass of a dead rat that crawled away from the cabin.”

  “You almost killed my dog, Riley.” Jude was angry, but he was also relieved that there was a non-sinister explanation for his Shiloh’s poisoning.

  “Well, shit, I said I was sorry.”

  “God only knows how many other animals you’ve poisoned from eating half-dead rats.”

  “Another reason to keep your dog and your horses on your side of the woods, and I’ll keep my poisoned rats on mine.”

  Jude never told Kristy about Riley’s crime against nature, or she’d accost the gunny with the academic equivalent of pitchforks: reams of data about the ecosystem. Come to think of it, maybe he should sic Kristy on him anyway. Serve Riley right.

  In the meantime, Kristy had settled at the cabin, keeping an eye on the horses as well as the convalescing Shiloh until Jude came home. She’d smiled knowingly when Jude had told her he’d be spending the next couple days at Rowan’s place, “just to get him settled.”

  “Is ‘get him settled’ the new ‘we’re back together?’” she’d teased.

  “Don’t go jumping to conclusions,” he’d warned. “And for god’s sake, don’t say anything like that to Rowan.”

  “Give me a break, Jude. I won’t blow it for you. You’re too good at doing that all on your own.”

  “Not this time. I need to go slow, though, and not spook him. You just promise not to interfere, okay?”

  “Well, if you can refrain from dumbassery, then I won’t have to.”

  God, he’d missed her.

  Now he was reading texts that said instead of Three Musketeers bars she should have bought Milky Ways because they freeze more deliciously. “I’ll text her that she doesn’t need to use Halloween as an excuse to eat candy…Ro?”

  Jude looked over to the sofa. Rowan’s head was tipped on the back of the cushions. He’d fallen asleep, probably within a minute after he sat down, and obviously hadn’t heard a word Jude said.

  Quietly, Jude plucked the remote out of Rowan’s hand and covered him with his treasured NCAA Final Four fleece throw blanket. He stroked Rowan’s glossy hair lightly, overcome with a surge of tenderness. He’d come too close to losing him. Drawing a deep breath, he turned away, knowing that if Rowan woke at that moment and saw Jude standing over him wearing a goofy expression of adoration, he’d be creeped out.

  So Jude settled in to eat the sandwich he’d made while texting a smartass reply to his sister.

  Twenty minutes later, Rowan woke with a startled, “Fuck! Ow. Ow ow ow.” Wildly, he glanced around, temporarily confused. “Jude?”

  “I’m right here.” Jude slid off the barstool at the kitchen counter, bringing Rowan’s pain meds with him.

  Rowan calmed at Jude’s voice. He sighed when Jude dropped next to him on the couch. Jude suppressed a smile when Rowan inched closer.

  Gratefully, Rowan swallowed down the tablets. “I’m sorry I was such a shit to you about these when you were laid up with your leg and dealing with pain,” he said, indicating the bottle of prescription painkillers. “I was caught up in my own issues, and I just
didn’t get it.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  A sigh lifted Rowan’s chest. “No, not really, but I owe you an explanation about why I pulled so far away from you when you were in the hospital, especially since you felt the need to end…it.”

  “You already gave me one,” Jude interjected, wanting to spare him more pain.

  “No. I mean the details. You deserve to know everything. I want you to know everything.”

  “Alright,” Jude said quietly when he fell silent. “I’m listening.”

  Rowan took another shuddery breath. “Dad was diagnosed with stomach cancer when I was twelve. By the time he had it checked out, it had metastasized to Stage Four and spread everywhere. So he died, and I was left alone with my stepmom and stepbrother. It…wasn’t great. It was actually pretty rough.”

  Rowan’s mouth clamped shut, and by his shuttered expression, Jude knew he was wrestling with tough memories. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” Jude asked.

  “We’d been dating a few months and not exactly talking much when we were together, if you get what I’m saying. When’s the right time to say, ‘hey, let me dump my handbag of childhood issues on you?’ Right after being boned against a wall?”

  Jude remembered his own uncertainties when it came to thinking about his relationship with Rowan, and couldn’t really argue with him. They were both good at the fucking and the horsing around. The intimacy part was a whole ‘nother scary thing altogether.

  “After we split, I let my pride get in the way,” Rowan went on. “I should have manned up and told you about my dad passing. It’s not—” Rowan exhaled a careful breath. “It’s not easy for me to talk about.”

  They fell silent while Jude’s heart ached. He covered Rowan’s hand with his own and cleared his throat. “Well, let’s table your groveling until I feel comfortable kicking your ass. Right now you look like one of those baby seals with the big sad eyes in the Save the Animals commercials.”

  The pain on Rowan’s face cleared. “Hey! That’s a low blow.”

  “You want something to eat?”

  “No.” Rowan withdrew his hand from Jude’s and plucked fretfully at the blanket, equilibrium restored. “Baby seals, bah.”

  “Well, that’s too darn bad. Either eat or have those pills destroy the lining of your stomach.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “I made you a nice sandwich with your godawful sprouted wheat bread. If you finish all of it, you can have some apple juice to wash it down.”

  “Shouldn’t you be nicer to me because I’m sick?” Rowan moaned piteously. “I was shot with a fucking steel-tipped arrow by a psychopathic killer.”

  “Yeah, yeah. After you heal up, we can compare scars.”

  Rowan ate half his sandwich and drank all his apple juice. Jude held back on ribbing him with words of praise, knowing they would enrage him, which would be funny but not conducive to Rowan’s convalescence. Instead, Jude leaned back and draped his arm on the back of the couch behind Rowan’s head in blatant invitation.

  Rowan sighed and settled closer to Jude’s bulk. They both put their feet up on the coffee table while the Charlie Brown cartoon flickered on the television with the sound turned way down.

  It was quietly domestic. Peace flooded Jude, followed by a swell of emotions. “I really thought I was going to lose you,” he heard himself saying. He covered his embarrassment by pressing his mouth to Rowan’s uninjured temple and inhaling the scent of his hair.

  Rowan relaxed even further into Jude. “Me too,” he whispered. Jude heard the vulnerability in Rowan’s voice. “I was flipping out on Natsios when we pulled up to your cabin. He almost Tasered me to get me to calm the fuck down but I knew something was wrong. Now he’s dead—” Rowan broke off.

  Jude stroked Rowan’s hair and waited, knowing that Rowan needed to say what he wanted to say. After a moment, Rowan continued.

  “I let emotion cloud my judgment. Don’t they teach us to watch out for that as rookies? Don’t let your emotions get in the way of your effectiveness. Well, I fucked that up. I was halfheartedly following other leads like the homophobic email, which by the way went nowhere; the email had been run through an IP shield. I couldn’t let go of the Tully line. I was so sure that son of a bitch had something to do with Gruber’s death. You almost paid the price for my negligence. Natsios and Trooper Brady certainly did.”

  “Ro—”

  “Let me finish. I had a lot of time to think about it, and I need to say it.” Rowan swallowed before drawing a shaky breath. “The reason I went after Tully so hard was because I was trying to make up to you what happened in the aftermath of the Morelli shooting—what happened to us.”

  “But our split was on us, Rowan.”

  “I know. I guess I didn’t want to admit that I fucked up with you. Focusing on Tully was easier than blaming myself.”

  “There was plenty of blame to go around. I’m going to have to live with the fact that my missing you and seeking comfort cost a man his life.”

  “Don’t do that. Kyle Blake is responsible for taking Gruber’s life.”

  “And he’s responsible for Natsios’s,” Jude pointed out. “And the state trooper you sent to pick up my stuff.”

  Rowan sighed. “Natsios’s funeral is tomorrow, and Brady’s is the day after.”

  Jude tightened the arm around Rowan. “We can go together,” he said. Then he added carefully, “If you want to.”

  After a moment, Rowan said, “I’d like that.”

  Jude pulled back to look at Rowan more intently. “So, you’re coming out of the closet?”

  “Well, the Internet kind of outed us, don’t you think?”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  A flicker in his eyes told Jude he wasn’t being entirely truthful when he said slowly, “I think that I am.”

  But people went down the road of their life at their own speed. Jude knew how to be patient. He brought his mouth to Rowan’s. “Good,” he whispered.

  Their kiss grew heated. Jude savored the warmth of Rowan’s lips against his, the way Rowan’s tongue demandingly surged into Jude’s mouth. Jude licked back, coasting his tongue over Rowan’s lower lip until Rowan moaned.

  Jude pulled away on a gasp. “We should stop before we go any further.”

  “No, we shouldn’t.” Rowan’s hard dick nudged insistently against Jude’s thigh.

  “But you’re sick—”

  “You’ll just have to be careful.” Rowan’s wicked grin delved into Jude’s libido and turned the furnace up.

  “Stay there,” Jude said thickly after a few more heated kisses and careful gropes on Rowan’s willing body. “I’ll be right back.”

  Jude stumbled to the bedroom where he snatched up supplies. On the way back, he stripped off his shirt, exposing his own impressive array of bruises smudging his freckled skin.

  Rowan had settled back on the couch, propped up by pillows. He’d finished unbuttoning his shirt and was in the act of tugging his sweats down when Jude stopped him. “I’ll do that,” Jude told him, and laid his mouth over Rowan’s.

  “Bossy,” Rowan murmured when their lips parted. He softly ran his fingers over Jude’s bruises. “We’re a mess.”

  Jude had gotten Rowan’s pants off and was working on easing his briefs down. “Yeah, we are. Guess that’s the way it’s gonna be. If we are going to be together.” He met Rowan’s eyes shyly. He didn’t want to assume.

  Rowan was gazing back at him with his own shy expression. “I’d like that,” he said. “I’d like to try again.”

  Jude realized he was grinning like an idiot in relief. He’d had no idea he was so invested in Rowan’s acceptance of restarting their relationship until the other man had actually agreed. “Okay. We’ll take it one day at a time.” He palmed Rowan’s balls for good measure, to hammer home the benefits.

  Rowan groaned and pushed up into Jude’s hand. “Less talking. More dick sucking.”

  “N
ow who’s being bossy?” But Jude lowered his mouth to the tip of Rowan’s flushed cock and gave it some attention. Rowan flopped back onto the cushions and swore and winced when his stitches pulled and moaned while Jude went down on him again.

  “Damn it, I’m gonna shoot,” Rowan gasped out after a few minutes. “You’re too good at this.”

  Jude pulled off with a wet smack. He planted a sloppy kiss on Rowan’s bitten lips. Quickly, he prepped them both, slathering lube over the condom on Rowan’s dick and reaching around his own hip to twist his hole open. Under Rowan’s watchful gaze he carefully mounted. Rowan’s mouth dropped open in pleasure when Jude fully seated him inside.

  “Yeah,” Rowan muttered, thrusting up. “So hot, Jude. You’re so fucking hot like that, taking my cock. Jesus god, look at you.”

  Jude circled his hips to chase the sensation of Rowan’s blunt head rubbing his gland. “You’ll tell me if I’m hurting you, okay? I don’t want you going back in the hospital tonight.”

  “Shut up and ride me.” Rowan grabbed Jude’s hips with both hands and jerked him down. Jude gasped but he sped up and wrapped a hand around his own cock, stroking.

  “I’m not gonna last,” Rowan moaned.

  Jude swallowed down a needy keen. “Me, either.”

  At that moment, Rowan shuddered under Jude. “Oh fuuuuck, fuck it’s so good. Jude.”

  “Baby,” Jude whispered at the moment his balls lifted. The sight of Rowan’s body taut with pleasure as he emptied into Jude’s ass sent him over the edge.

  When the last rope of pearly liquid spattered across Rowan’s belly, Jude released a huge sigh. He caught himself from dropping like a sack of potatoes over Rowan, who was blowing hard like a horse just thundering in from a meadow, and wincing from his shoulder wound. Jude pulled off quickly and stumbled away for the clean up.

  In a docile trance, Rowan let himself be wiped down. He was so pliant and drowsy, Jude thought he’d be better off in bed. But Rowan simply turned his face into Jude’s chest while he lay on the couch and mumbled something about not wanting to go to bed yet, pulling the fleece over them.