by Anna Lee
“You wanted to hurt Kason. I know your type—jealous, angry and no common sense,” Ryen said in disgust. “But you’re right, you wouldn’t have hurt me, because you’re no match for me. Now, shut up.”
Sirens filled the air and a cop car pulled in beside them. Ryen held up his gun and called out to the officer, who turned out to be a friend of his father’s. The officer placed Blake under arrest and made him sit in the squad car until an ambulance arrived to splint his wrist.
It all went by in a blur to Kason as he and Ryen gave their statements, agreed to press charges against Blake and gave the officer Jenny’s number and information so she could testify to the attack in the shop. Throughout the conversation, which he hardly listened to, Kason kept holding Ryen’s hand, relieved that the nightmare was over.
The officer bagged the knife as evidence and a paramedic asked if Ryen needed attention. Ryen declined it. “I’ve had worse from shaving,” Ryen said, likely to make Kason laugh. “My partner was hurt earlier when that jerk knocked him out of his chair though.”
Kason nodded. “Yeah, my side is really hurting.”
The paramedic had him remove his shirt and examined his ribs, prodding gently before taping them up. Kason listened on autopilot as he was told he probably had two cracked ribs and if he felt worse he should see a doctor.
They were then free to go and Kason was told to go down to the station to file a restraining order against Blake, which he thought was a good idea. Ryen then helped him back into the truck after seeing the paramedic, and drove home.
Chapter Nine
“So, extra chocolate chips?”
“Huh?” Kason was thrown by the question as they entered the apartment then he remembered Ryen offering to make brownies before… “Baby, you don’t have to do that. We’ll make some later.”
“I thought we could do it together then have a TV marathon and lounge around.” Ryen dropped his keys in the bowl by the door then toed off his shoes before heading to the kitchen.
Kason followed, greeting Brutus along the way. Cooking was a stress reliever for Ryen and relaxed him. Maybe it would help them both unwind, and it would be nice to make his favorite dessert with Ryen. He parked by the barstool.
“Help me up?”
“Sure.” Ryen came over and gingerly helped Kason lift himself onto the stool. His ribs ached but the pain wasn’t as bad as it had been. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve definitely had worse,” he replied with a grimace, looking down at his legs. “Man, Lexie is gonna hunt him down when she finds out.”
“She already told me after the last time that she has her Navy SEALs on speed dial so I won’t have to give her any numbers.”
Letting out a strangled laugh, Kason said, “Yeah, Jase will be on board now that he’s home.” He buried his face in Ryen’s chest, hands clenching his shirt. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Not a scratch.” Ryen kissed the top of his head. “Can I ask you something?”
“Mmhm.” Kason ran a hand down Ryen’s back.
“Did he ever hit you?” Ryen’s voice cracked and he held him a little tighter.
“No, he knew I could kick his ass before I got hurt. We had some epic shouting matches, but that was about it.”
“And afterward?”
“He was hardly around until the day he left. Spent all his time with Milo, I guess.”
Ryen relaxed in his arms and Kason could feel the tension leaving his body. “Good, that’s a weight off my mind.”
Kason pulled back so he could see Ryen. He was the silver lining in all of this. His knight in shining armor and the love of his life. Sappy as that was, every bit was true and he wanted Ryen to know that.
“Everything I went through led me here. I wouldn’t change a thing. All that matters now is I have you. You’re everything to me.”
“Always yours, baby.” Ryen sealed it with a lingering kiss. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Kason ran his fingers across Ryen’s jaw. “And I’m yours.”
“Mine.” Ryen nipped his lip. “All mine.”
They kissed for another long minute before breaking apart. Ryen got all the ingredients they needed and set them on the counter. Kason helped him make the batter. After opening up the bag of chocolate chips, he popped a few in his mouth.
“Hey!” Ryen pointed the wooden spoon at him. “Don’t eat all those or there won’t be enough.”
“It was just a few.”
“Mm, you’ll have them all gone in minutes. I know you.”
Laughing, Kason poured some more in his hand and acted as if he were going to drop them into the mixing bowl then instead ate them.
“You think you’re funny?”
Kason could see Ryen fighting a smile. “Of course I am.”
“Give me the chocolate chips.”
Kason took one and tossed it at Ryen. The shock on his lover’s face was priceless. “Want some more?”
“Oh, if you weren’t hurting right now, I’d—”
“What?” Kason challenged, gazing at Ryen from under his eyelashes. He then gave him that smile that he knew Ryen loved. “Tell me, baby.”
“I’d pick you up to distract you then get some payback,” Ryen said, his voice husky with need.
“Lots of payback.” Kason tossed another chocolate chip at Ryen. He really shouldn’t have been laughing so hard because it did make his ribs hurt, but he didn’t care. It was worth it to see Ryen smiling and not worried anymore. “Go on, I dare you.”
“You do, huh?” Ryen smirked then took the wooden spoon full of batter and flung its contents at him.
Sputtering, Kason wiped it from his face then licked his fingers clean to tease Ryen. “Mm, tastes good.”
“Oh, that is it.” Ryen’s eyes had darkened and he stepped around the stool so he could lift Kason into his arms. The pain was forgotten as Kason dropped the chocolate chips and wrapped his arms around his lover. Everything else faded away. There was only him and Ryen. It felt right and good.
“I’ve got you,” Ryen breathed against Kason’s lips. “What are you gonna do now?”
Cupping the back of Ryen’s head, Kason leaned in so their lips were almost touching.
“This,” he whispered then kissed Ryen. The broken road to reach this moment had been hell. There had been hurt, tears, and a broken heart. But he really would go through it all again to be there in Ryen’s arms, happy and loved.
Epilogue
Six months later
It was the day of the championship tournament between Kason’s team, The Rolling Mets, and the Tampa Bay Rays. He was all pumped up and excited to be a part of the big event. He couldn’t wait to get out on the field. The only disappointment was he had yet to see Ryen join their families in the stands. He had to work that day at the restaurant with Chef Scott but had promised he wouldn’t be late. Kason stared down at his glove, worry bubbling up. Ryen wouldn’t miss this. He never broke a promise. What if something had happened? That thought sent a cold chill down his spine and he reached for his phone tucked away in his duffel bag. He had to call and see where he was.
“Hey, ain’t that Ryen? What’s he doing on the field?” Spencer, his friend and center fielder, pointed from the dugout.
To his relief, Ryen was jogging out to the pitcher’s spot. Now curious, he saw his lover had a microphone in hand.
“Hey there, everyone. I promise I won’t take too much of your time. Those of you on the Mets know me, I’m Hot Wheels’ partner, and hey, Tampa, watch out, I’m telling you.” Ryen paused as there was laughter in the crowd and Lexie cheered. Kason’s face heated up as he wondered what Ryen was doing. ‘Hot Wheels’ had stuck permanently—it was now his nickname on the team.
“Anyway, Kason and I have been together six months. The moment we met I thought to myself, ‘There he is. He’s the one I’ve been waiting for’. He’s made my life special since then, got me to go after a dream of mine, and made me realize how lucky I am to be h
ere.” The crowd awwwed. “So, Kas, could you come out here, please?”
Already wheeling out, Kason felt the tears in his eyes, completely blown away. Ryen never ceased to amaze him. He thought the day was going great already but this…this was going to be one the best days of his life.
Ryen took Kason’s hand when he reached him then smoothly dropped down on one knee. He gave Kason a crooked grin and passed him the microphone so he could reach into his back pocket.
“Kason Tyler, you are the love of my life. Will you please marry me?” He opened his palm, revealing a silver band.
“Yes, of course I will, Ryen!” Kason could feel his grin splitting his face as Ryen slipped the ring on his finger. There was applause and cheering. Without a care for what anyone thought, Kason held Ryen’s face in his hand and kissed him, thinking at that moment life couldn’t get any better.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Flibbertigibbet
Willa Okati
Excerpt
Chapter One
Donovan didn’t know what he’d expected from the marina, but this wasn’t it.
“You can’t get there from here?” He hitched the carrying strap of a bulging Army surplus duffel higher on his shoulder and took two steps back from the edge of the dock to better eye the Water Taxi sign above his head. At five foot three inches, Donovan was all too accustomed to seeing the world at odd angles. “Seriously?”
The taxi driver laughed, hearty and easy. “You could try to swim, if you like,” he suggested.
Donovan couldn’t make out much detail on the man, hidden as he was by the shadows from his ball cap and the taxi’s canopy. Is it called a canopy, or something more nautical?
“It’s only about thirty yards, and the water’s right at sixty degrees. Nice and refreshing.”
Honestly, he made it sound almost tempting. Slogging his duffel five blocks from the nearest car park on an unseasonably warm day had left Donovan sticky with sweat. Short-cropped wisps of hair stuck to his forehead and temples.
On the other hand, the distinct possibility of drowning.
The taxi driver cracked a broad, white grin at Donovan. Surely he had more teeth than the average man. Either that or a second job as a walking Colgate advertisement. Good thing he did stand in the shadows—otherwise, he might have put someone’s eye out with that gleam. “Five bucks, one way.”
Donovan winced as he reached for his wallet. He might have five dollars in there if he searched every card slot for forgotten laundry money. “Highway robbery, isn’t it?”
“Waterway robbery, more like,” the driver said with a carefree shrug. He winked at Donovan. Leaf, said the name tag pinned crookedly to the left side of his sleeveless muscle shirt, just over the marina’s logo. “Tell you what, though. I’m headed back over there anyway. I could give you a lift instead of a fare this once. Our secret.”
Who would I tell? Donovan wanted to ask, but didn’t. Better to shut up and say thank you. These days, he had to count every penny and squeeze each dollar until it squeaked. He picked up the knapsack he’d rested at his feet as a counterweight for his larger duffel and stepped carefully across the eight inches or so of open water between dock and taxi. He wasn’t at his best when it came to deep water. “Appreciate it. I’ll pay you double some other time.”
“Not a problem.” Leaf swung the taxi’s half-door shut and took off his ball cap to wave it in front of his face. He’d had a tumble of black curls hidden under there, offsetting surprisingly severe eyebrows and cheekbones the likes of which Donovan’s female friends would have cheerfully killed for.
Sweet Lord have mercy. Donovan mentally bit his fist. All that and full lips, too, as well as a pointed chin and a sharp arrow of a nose that Leaf lifted to sniff the air.
“D’you smell smoke?”
And there went the bubble, bursting open with a tiny, disappointed pip! that reminded Donovan of why he was there in the first place.
“I smell of smoke,” Donovan said. “House burned down a few weeks ago. I still haven’t gotten it out of the stuff I salvaged.”
“Ooh.” Leaf whistled and threw Donovan a grimace of sympathy. “Tough break.”
“Yeah, well…” Donovan shrugged uncomfortably. “I lived. Can’t ask for much more than that, can I?”
“I don’t know. I think you could ask for a hell of a lot more. Like your house not burning down in the first place, for one.” Leaf waved backward at the taxi’s three rows of utilitarian plastic bucket seats. “Sit anywhere you like. It’s not as if I’m full up. Or you could stand right where you are—I promise I won’t let you tip overboard—and pass the time of day.”
Wait. What? “Are you flirting with me?” Donovan asked, taken wrong-footed. “Me?”
Leaf’s white smile widened further still, which Donovan would previously have thought an impossibility. It should have looked odd, or a bit like a lean timber wolf who’d just spotted a particularly tasty morsel wandering by, but it didn’t. “Why not you? You seem like an interesting sort. I can always spot the ones with good stories to tell. I’ve got an eye for it. Also, sorry if you think it was, but the way you’re looking at me isn’t exactly subtle.”
Oh hell. Yes, he’d been looking, but not looking. Absolutely not looking. On purpose. Much.
See, here was the thing—while thirty years old might be a bit early for a mid-life crisis and a profound need to reassess his priorities, from where Donovan stood—over the ashes of his former home—it might be none too early to take a step back and try to wrestle out a measure of control over his life.
To be master of my destiny and captain of my fate. Or is it the other way around?
Whichever. The quote didn’t matter. Intent, on the other hand, did, despite the loud wail from a small and unhappy piece of Donovan’s lizard brain. He would almost certainly hate himself for this later, but… “Are you going to drop-kick me off the boat if I say I’d better not? It’s just that it’s a bad time right now, and—”
Leaf laughed, a bright and happy sound, stopping Donovan in his verbal tracks. In his experience, that wasn’t at all the usual sort of response to rejection. “Calm down. If you’re not interested, you’re not interested. Though now I really am curious about your story. I’ll probably get it out of you if you stick around for a while. Are you?”
Donovan had the oddest feeling that he’d missed something there. He cleared his throat. “I’m staying on my friend Eve’s boat until the claims agents get through with their business.”
“So, a few years?”
“If they have their way? Yes.”
“Tsk. Damn the establishment, anyway.” Leaf finished motoring the putt-putting water taxi into place at the end of the marina’s dock. He tied it off with good strong ropes, then hopped out quick as a wink to offer Donovan a hand up. “When you want to head back, just give me a shout. If I’m not here, I’ll come when I’m called.”
Weird guy, Donovan thought. Weird, weird guy.
Cute, though.
Eve waited for Donovan near the far end of the long floating dock. She waved cheerfully to him, beckoning him on with one hand while she jiggled a lump of sleeping baby strapped to her chest with the other. Donovan waved back to indicate that he’d be there as soon as possible. Which, on a dock like this, wasn’t very soon at all. While logic told him the dock had to be as sturdy and secure as an armored car, his legs refused to believe the information coming from his brain.
Again, Donovan hadn’t known what to expect—he hadn’t been able to make it to the housewarming party Eve and her then fiancé Tanner had thrown when they’d bought their live-aboard boat—but reality did not match his imaginings. Sturdiness aside, the dock was plenty wide, with room enough for at least two or three people to walk abreast, but surprisingly cluttered on either side with neat coils of line, potted plants, folded deckchairs, and the occasional charcoal grill.
Still, surprisingly…nice. The deck’s boards were a homey shade of ho
neyed pine, and spotlessly clean. Houseboats bobbed companionably side by side in the gentle ebb and flow of the tide. The potted plants were fragrantly green and floral, bright red geraniums and dappled violets and even a few sunflowers.
He’d lived in apartments far less welcoming. If overall drier.
Eve greeted Donovan in her customary style, wrapping one arm around his neck and dragging him down into a firm hug. Yes, down. She only stood four feet eleven in flat shoes. Which might or might not have been the reason they’d struck up a friendship in the first place, way back when. Vertically challenged solidarity, oorah! “There you are, finally,” she said as she squished him. “I’d started to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”
Donovan took care not to squash the contents of the baby carrier, peacefully snoring away. Looked like the little man had inherited his father’s calm, nearly somnolescent personality. Good for him. And for Tanner too, probably. “Got a later start than I’d wanted. The insurance adjuster called and took up nearly half an hour arguing the fine print on my policy.”
“Any luck?”
Donovan wrinkled his nose. “Luck, in a conversation with an insurance company?”
“Good point.” Eve patted Donovan’s back. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. And don’t you dare ask me again about rent, understood?”
Understood, yes. Accepted, no. It wasn’t that Donovan didn’t appreciate crash space while the insurance company decided on the eventual fate of his living situation. God, did he appreciate it. But before this whole fiasco, Donovan knew Eve and Tanner had started making noises about selling the boat to help bolster their post-kid budget. They’d need the money, and now. As soon as someone took pity and cut him a check, he’d pay them back.
“Just down here, Donovan.” Eve guided his steps. “This one. The Knotty Boy. Don’t laugh.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Donovan said, almost virtuously, and almost believably. He hoped. To distract himself from what looked—to him—like a miniature trailer with floaty bits, he shot a curious look back over his shoulder. Leaf had tucked his curls back up in his cap and set to work with what looked like a power washer, blasting away at the deck. “Question first, actually. I just met the strangest guy driving the water taxi—”