Broken Protocol (Smoke & Bullets)

by A. R. Barley

  “And you’re actually going to be there? You’re not going to take an assignment in Guam when things get rough?”

  “I’m never leaving your side.”

  Luke considered for a long moment. Too long. Was he going to say no? Dante’s breath was coming faster. He began to peel himself away from Luke’s body.

  “Yes—” Luke lunged forward, slamming him back against the rough brick wall and pressing their lips together. One of his feet connected with the window to the bar with a thud. There were at least a hundred people inside, all of whom knew Dante and Luke by name. Some of them were family friends. Most of them were cops. A few of them would definitely have a problem with two guys making out in front of their favorite watering hole.

  And Dante couldn’t care less. He was too busy kissing Luke back. Devouring his mouth. Celebrating him with his body. Damn. This was really going to happen. The two of them were going to move in together. He broke away, panting. “This isn’t just for a few weeks or because you need a place to keep your stuff. I’m buying the place. This is forever.”

  “Absolutely.” Luke kissed him again.

  “And we’re not just going to be roommates. We’re dating. We’re committed. It’s too soon now, but in a couple of months I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll say yes.”

  “And Charlie wants grandkids soon, so that’s something we’re going to need to think about, whether we want to use a surrogate or adopt.” He’d love the kid the same either way.

  Luke’s hands wrapped tight around the back of his neck, holding him in place. His eyes were a bright emerald. His smile practically reached his ears. He laughed. “Dante Green. I love you, but you talk too much.”

  And then they were kissing again.

  They never did make it back to the party. He and Luke had something of their own to celebrate. Dante slipped inside to grab their jackets and wave goodbye to Charlie. They bundled up tight and caught a cab to Inwood. The ride was intense. Their bodies were squeezed together, knee touching knee, thigh touching thigh. Luke’s fingers were woven together with his so tight it almost felt like their bodies might stick that way.

  The stairs to the apartment had never taken so long, but when they finally fumbled their way through the front door they were home.

  “Are you really buying this place?” Luke asked as he dropped his jacket on the floor and tugged his T-shirt off over his head. Damn, he was pretty, all lean lines and taut muscle. Every time Dante saw him naked it was like a little piece of heaven.

  “We’re buying this place. I’m not paying the mortgage by myself.” It was all part of his long-term plan to bind the two of them close together. Moving in together. Marriage. Kids. Eventually they’d grow old together. They’d have gray hair and matching rocking chairs. Grandkids. “Unless you’d rather be close to the firehouse?”

  “Are you kidding? I love this place. Two bedrooms, a real kitchen, a sexy boyfriend. It’s perfect. Besides, my commute’s going to be cut in half.” Luke considered that for a long moment before pulling a face. “It’s going to take me forever to finish Dad’s sweater.”

  “We can move farther away if you like.”

  “Not going to happen. I’m an Inwood resident for life. I’ll get Dyckman and Broadway tattooed on my ass.”

  “That’d be sexy.” Dante stripped off his own clothes and Luke drew in a sharp breath. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who liked to look. Good to know. He flexed his biceps, putting on a little show. Then he turned to show Luke his back.

  “Fuck,” Luke growled. “I’m never going to get sick of those wings.” With one finger he traced the ink that covered Dante’s shoulders. The calluses on his fingertips were like sandpaper, scraping against his skin. Then there was a hot breath against the back of his neck and—fuck. “You know that night with Carl and Tim, I thought you were my guardian angel.”

  Dante laughed as he turned back to push Luke up against the wall, cover his body. “I’m no angel.”

  “No, but you are mine.” Luke’s green eyes glittered, dark with want and need. “And I’m never going to let you go. We’re family.”

  “Family.” A bond stronger than blood and deeper than bone.

  Forever and ever.

  *

  Look for SHIFT’S END, the next book in the SMOKE & BULLETS series, coming from A.R. Barley and Carina Press in 2018.

  To find out about other books by A.R. Barley or be alerted to new releases, sign up for her newsletter at http://bit.ly/ARBarleyMailingList

  Keep reading for an excerpt from OUT OF BOUNDS by A.R. Barley, now available at all participating e-retailers.

  Chapter One

  The first thing Jesse noticed about his new dorm room was the mess. The place looked like a bomb had gone off. There were clothes everywhere, and towers of books spiraled awkwardly into the distance. A pile of papers had collapsed on the nearest desk, leaving an academic war zone in its place.

  He edged his way in through the door, holding his breath, praying it was all one big mistake. After everything else that had happened to him, the last thing he needed to face was this disaster area.

  Something caught on the toe of his sneaker, trapping him in place, and a rush of anxiety flooded his body. Panic seized him. He couldn’t be trapped. Not now. Not again. His thoughts sizzled and skipped. His lungs screamed for air.

  Jesse opened his mouth to take a breath, mentally steeling himself against the stench that usually came with clothes piled a foot deep and empty plates on the floor.

  But the messy dorm room smelled like chocolate and coffee.

  Jesse took another breath, through his nose this time. The place might not be tidy, but there was no sour stench of sweat or leftover food. It smelled good. Like the kind of place he might look forward to coming back to after a hard day of classes—if he could unearth his bed.

  Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  The hot blond resident assistant had promised he’d like his new dorm. The blond was the one who’d found Jesse on the quad, covered in blood and numb with pain and the cold that came from sitting outside for hours in subzero weather. He was the one who’d given Jesse his sweatshirt and held his hand while they waited for the paramedics. After Jesse had finally been discharged from the hospital, he was the one who’d driven him back to campus, talking the entire time like he was trying to keep the silence from swallowing Jesse whole.

  Some of it had finally sunk in. There was an open bed on the floor in North Dorm where the guy worked. He’d already been in touch with the dean. The transfer had been approved. Jesse’s stuff would be brought over by Maintenance in the morning.

  Jesse had a new place to stay.

  Somewhere warm.

  Someplace safe.

  For a while he’d thought he was imagining things—hallucinating a better end to the night—but it must have been true because here Jesse was on the far side of campus, in a dorm building that was seniors only even though he was just a lowly sophomore.

  He took another breath, allowing the rich coffee scent to envelop him, and tried to look at surroundings barely illuminated by the gray dawn light threading through the window. Underneath the mess, the room was just like the one he’d left the night before—running for the safety of the frozen quad—two beds, two desks, a mini fridge and two wardrobes because Halston University had been too cheap to put in closets when they were building the dorms.

  Of course, his old room had been decorated in coordinated blue and gray, not strewn with fabric in every color in the rainbow. He’d kept his books neatly tucked away in the bookshelf beside his desk. And, on the rare occasion it had ever smelled like anything other than laundry detergent, it had been scented with a sharp spray of Ryan’s cologne—

  Jesse’s mind balked, shying away from thoughts of Ryan.

  That wasn’t his room anymore.

  This was.

  On the bed to his left a pile of fabric rustled, and Jesse’s
heart seized. He wasn’t alone. His roommate had to be under there somewhere. His new roommate—not Ryan, he reminded himself, but that didn’t stop the dread from gripping him or the room from spinning.

  He leaned forward, struggling to draw air down into his lungs, concentrating hard on the mess in front of him: a business accounting textbook, a pair of gym shorts and glitter?

  “Who the fuck are you?” a rough voice demanded from under the covers.

  Jesse jolted backward, slamming into a stack of books. His hands rose instinctively to protect himself. His breath was coming faster—too fast—air wasn’t reaching his lungs—

  “Easy,” the voice said again. It was still deep and rough from sleep, but it was less demanding this time. “Easy, kid. I just asked you a question.”

  “I’m your new—” Roommate. Jesse couldn’t even get the word out. His hands fluttered awkwardly. He tried again. “I have a key.” He dug into his pocket, pulling out the bit of metal and holding it in front of himself like a talisman.

  “Fucking Kelly.” The voice was like dark velvet, husky and soft. “That asshole stick you in here?”

  Kelly had to be the blond RA. “He said there was an extra bed.”

  There was a long pause, then a grunt. “Fuck, it’s early.” The guy groaned and the bedcovers moved a second time. “You want me to clear my shit off the bed?”

  “No,” Jesse squeaked, hurrying over to the right side of the room before the man could get the covers off and stand up. The spare bed was on the opposite side of the room, covered in blankets and sheets. “Where do you want me to put everything?”

  “Throw it on the floor.”

  Jesse couldn’t do that. His new acquaintance—he needed to be able to say the word roommate—was clearly using the space as a linen cabinet. He folded everything neatly and placed it on the desk beside the window.

  The covers on the other bed didn’t move once. If the guy tried to get up then Jesse didn’t know what he’d do—probably run—but the body on the bed didn’t appear interested in helping.

  When everything was finally put away, Jesse climbed up onto his new bed—fully clothed with only his borrowed sweatshirt as a pillow—waiting for him to say something...anything.

  All he heard was the deep breathing of a man who needed to catch a few more hours’ sleep.

  A man who clearly didn’t give a damn why he’d been stuck with a new roommate in the middle of the semester.

  That kind of disinterest was almost reassuring.

  At least that’s what Jesse tried to convince himself before finally...eventually...falling asleep.

  *

  The kid was still sleeping when Nick left the dorm room. His body was curled in protectively on itself; his hands were clutched around the sweatshirt he was using as a pillow. His face was pale from the cold. Nick would have tossed a blanket over him, but—even sleeping—his new roommate looked like he’d jump out of his skin if anyone made a sudden move.

  Instead, he went to find Kelly, the Satan-spawned residential assistant who’d convinced him to live on campus senior year. Of course, that was back when Nick had thought there might be more to Kelly than a big dick and a controlling personality.

  Back when he’d thought the two of them had a chance at a real relationship.

  Nick finally found his ex in the cafeteria, eating shredded wheat with soy milk. Healthy fucker.

  He grabbed a cup of coffee and slid into the booth across from Kelly without bothering to ask permission. “Who’s the kid?”

  “Jesse.” Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly. “Jesse Cole. He didn’t introduce himself?”

  “He was still sleeping when I left.” Nick shrugged. “Didn’t want to bother him.”

  “Good,” Kelly said. “Don’t.”

  Like Nick was some kind of asshole who couldn’t be nice to a guy unless he was following orders. He frowned unhappily—was that really what Kelly thought about him? It didn’t matter. They weren’t dating. They weren’t even friends. Just ships in the night, and he wasn’t a very happy ship. “You going to tell me what he’s doing in my room?”

  “It’s university property.”

  “Yeah.” Nick took a long drag on his coffee, wishing he knew what to say, wishing they were outside and he still smoked so at least he’d have something to do with his mouth. “Why’s he in my room? And don’t give me some bullshit about university property. You know what I mean, why’d he need to be moved in the middle of the semester?”

  “None of your fucking business.”

  “Okay, but why’d you have to stick him in with me?” Nick hadn’t gotten a great look at his new roommate, but he’d seen enough.

  The boy had floppy brown hair, flushed cheeks, and a slim body that probably looked better naked. He was too damn pretty and so damn young Nick would have checked his ID twice to make sure he was legal if he showed up at the gay bar where Nick picked up twice-weekly shifts.

  “There’s no way he’s a senior.”

  “Sophomore.” Kelly put down his spoon and finally gave Nick his undivided attention. “Jesse’s been through a lot.” He spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. “I want to keep an eye on him, and you’ve got the only free bed on the hall. Is that going to be a problem?”

  Hell, yeah.

  It was already a problem.

  Nick was busy. Midterms were coming up. He needed to finish an assignment for accounting. And—on the nights when he wasn’t bouncing at Ale Mary’s—he was cramming for his French class. He needed to be able to focus. He didn’t have time to watch out for some jumpy sophomore who’d landed on the hall because he couldn’t take care of himself.

  Kelly was still staring at him with those ice-chip eyes, so blue they could put the noonday sky to shame and so single-minded they’d made Nick fall in love without a second thought. It wasn’t until later he’d realized Kelly looked at everyone that way.

  The dude was intense.

  “Fine,” Nick said. “But I’m not doing this for you.”

  “I wouldn’t even suggest it.”

  “I don’t owe you anything.” Nick jabbed a finger at him for emphasis. “We are not friends. I’m just doing this so he has a place to stay.” Because Nick might be a lot of things—including a hustler, a fighter and a thief—but he’d never throw anybody out. Ever. “And he better not touch my stuff.”

  Kelly nodded and clearly that was the end of their conversation because a moment later he’d gone back to eating his cereal and pretending Nick didn’t exist.

  Bastard.

  Nick slammed back the rest of his coffee, then went to his morning class. Monday was his busy day, three classes in a row with only a twenty-minute break for lunch. Afterward he went to the library and the gym, anything to keep himself away from the dorm room until Jesse Cole was all settled in.

  When he finally got back to the hall, he just wanted to grab his laptop, order some pizza and get to work. He could put on headphones if he needed to, but he sure as hell hoped Jesse didn’t listen to pop music...or country... Nick hated country. Too many guitars. Too much twang. Too many memories of his mamma’s kitchen table.

  He popped open the door and—

  Was he in the wrong room?

  It wasn’t possible. His key had worked in the lock.

  Still, he took a step back so he could see the number on the door. Howard 146. Three doors down from the bathroom. Far enough away from the lounge that he didn’t have to worry about being bothered by his idiot dorm mates on movie night. It was definitely the right place.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t look anything like the room he’d left that morning.

  Every surface gleamed. The hardwood floors freaking sparkled. His bed had been made up with fresh sheets, and his books were all put away in a shelf under the window. Had those bookcases always been there? Even the stack of personal items at the foot of his bed had been tidied away—

  Nick surged forward, not caring when Jesse jerked to the side and retreated to
his own bed in surprise.

  “What the fuck did you do?” He ripped open the wardrobe door. Every piece of clothing he owned had been laundered, folded and put away. The shirts had been sorted by color. He couldn’t see the box that had been there a few hours earlier. No such luck. He grabbed at the clean shirts, leaving them in an awkward heap, then lumbered over to the bookshelf.

  The books had been freaking alphabetized. He grabbed at the nearest one and tossed it to the ground.

  “Where’s my stuff?” He turned and—

  The edge of a wooden box was poking out from underneath the bed.

  Thank God.

  He dropped to his knees, grabbing for the only thing he had left from his childhood. He slid the box out and popped open the lid. The pictures were right where he’d left them. The rosary from his confirmation was tucked in beside the swimming trophy he’d gotten in sixth grade. The sum total of his life before he’d left home, and it all fit into an old cigar box. At least the kid hadn’t tried organizing in here.

  When he was sure everything was present and accounted for—safe—he turned to glare at the fucking invader who’d dared to clean his room.

  Jesse was sitting awkwardly on his bed, shaking like a leaf, in the same clothes he’d slept in—too-tight jeans and an oversized sweatshirt that looked suspiciously like the one Kelly had stolen from Nick when they broke up. The room might be spic and span, but Jesse was anything but clean. There was a bruise on his cheek, a cut under his right eye, and blood staining his floppy hair.

  Fuck, he was a mess.

  Nick sighed. “This isn’t going to work.”

  Don’t miss OUT OF BOUNDS by A.R. Barley.

  Available now wherever Carina Press ebooks are sold.

  www.CarinaPress.com

  Copyright © 2016 by Aleah Barley

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank my editor, Deborah Nemeth, and the amazing team over at Carina. They always do a wonderful job with my books, and they make the editing process a delight. I’d also like to thank Jodi Linton and Annabeth Albert for encouraging me every time I get stuck. Last but not least, special thanks go out to my husband, who supports me in everything I do.