Accidental Roots The Series Volume 1: an mm romantic suspense box set

by Elle Keaton

  Micah woke up coughing violently, scraping his lungs from the inside. Heavy smoke filled his living room; piercing sirens sounded close by. A bulky figure kicked his front door open.

  Micah kept trying to tell the EMTs he was fine. They insisted on taking him to the emergency room regardless. He had inhaled a lot of smoke; they needed to run some tests. The fire had been burning for maybe ten minutes before the fire department was called. All Micah could think about was his cat. He tried to ask, but the oxygen mask was over his face and the EMT wouldn’t let him take it off. Finally, he got so agitated they sedated him. Even as he passed out, Micah was angrily noting his name: Sorenson.

  At St. Joe’s they set him up in an exam room. He was hooked up to all sorts of beeping machines that measured gas levels or something. The oxygen mask was still on, too. The nice nurse explained what the machines were for, but Micah was too agitated to pay full attention. He finally grabbed the guy’s hand as he chatted about what they were monitoring and croaked, “My cat?” Understanding dawned, and cute J. James exited the room with a promise to see what he could find out. Exhaustion and meds pulled Micah under again, and he drifted off into a dreamless daze.

  When Micah resurfaced, Adam was slumped in the single chair he could see from the bed. They’d moved him to a different room; this one had a window. There were three beds, but he seemed to be the only current occupant. His head ached; his mouth felt like he’d slept with a rag in it. A dirty rag. His brain hurt.

  Memory came flooding back. It wasn’t just smoke inhalation; he also had a monster headache from the cider last night. He groaned. Adam lifted his head, his hair sticking out in every direction, his eyes full of fear and worry.

  “I hope I don’t look as bad as you,” Micah rasped and tried to swallow. “Ugh, can I have some water?”

  Adam hit the call button, and J. James came in. He authorized ice chips only for the time being.

  “The doc is being careful; you were really coughing and wheezing. They’re going to take a chest X-ray, I’m pretty sure.” Micah’s lungs chose that moment to seize up. Adam looked miserable, standing close to pat his back and hold his hand until he could get a breath again. Tears streamed down Micah’s face because holy fucking cow, it hurt.

  “Don’t talk. Put the mask back on,” Adam said. “I’ll try to answer your questions. First, Frankie is at the vet getting checked out. Smoke inhalation, just like you. Vet thinks he’ll make a full recovery.” Micah sighed in thanks and relief. He loved that stupid, arrogant cat. “They’re not sure about your house. The fire burned hot and did some damage before the engines could get there. I haven’t been over to see it. I came straight here after I’d been reamed by my boss.”

  Adam looked worn out, but Micah needed answers. “Why? How?” he croaked.

  “How’d it start, or why was I reamed?”

  Micah nodded.

  “Yeah, um, the fire marshal was still at the scene last I heard. But it looks like it was deliberate. Which is why they were pounding on my door.” At Micah’s raised eyebrows, he continued, “I was seen leaving your place by a neighbor. You were sleeping like the dead. Ugh, terrible description. Ah, anyway. But I had some stuff to do, and I knew you were tired and had work piling up. I left you on the couch and fed your cat before I took off. I got working this morning, and the next thing I knew, the Jolly Green Giant was knocking my door down with his sidekick Blue.”

  “That’s a really weird reference,” Micah whispered, slipping the oxygen mask back off.

  “Yeah?” Adam smiled tiredly at him.

  “And the rest?”

  “Well. Um. I wasn’t supposed to involve myself in a local investigation. I’m here to clean up my dad’s property, not to work. I know we haven’t talked about it. But, uh, I’m a federal investigator.”

  “Ed told me. He was kind of worried, since my dad was a DA.”

  “I didn’t not tell you on purpose,” Adam said. “It just never came up and, to be honest, I kind of liked that you didn’t know. Or I thought you didn’t know.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair; it still stood in wild tufts, defying gravity. “I love what I do. But my boss, Mohammad, wants me to step back. Apparently I can get a little intense. And I have a shit-ton of vacation time saved up. So I am supposed to be taking care of my dad’s estate, not interfering. Even though we are here officially now,” Adam grumbled.

  The fire marshal thought the blaze was deliberately, but unprofessionally, set. The accelerant had most likely been gasoline.

  “The cops want to talk to you; they’re waiting in the hallway. I don’t count,” Adam told Micah before he could protest. “Answer all their questions. I’ll wait outside.”

  Two detectives Micah had never seen before, not that he was an expert on local cops, entered. They were stern but kind. One was a bit older, probably his dad’s age, and Micah wondered if they had known his dad. It was hard sometimes. He answered their questions as best he could, but he was a terrible witness; he’d been asleep and didn’t even remember Adam leaving. He hadn’t heard or smelled anything until the firefighter had broken down his front door and dragged him out onto the front lawn, all in front of Mrs. Brower, who was now going to have gossip for a year. She’d probably been on the phone to her church group before Micah had left for the ER.

  He told them about being at the Beaver for several hours because he and Adam had both been upset about Mr. Abrahams’s death. Micah hadn’t wanted to be alone or cook, so they hit the Beaver for broasted chicken and fries. Adam had driven him home and poured him into bed—well, onto the couch. He wasn’t much good after more than a couple drinks. “He stayed for a while, I’m pretty sure, but I don’t see why you’re asking about him. We just met; why would he want to burn my house down? And why would he leave through the front door if he was going to do something like that?” The pain medication was starting to wear off; even whispering hurt.

  J. James must have had ESP, because he came back into the room and made them leave. They promised they would have more questions for him and told him not to go anywhere.

  “Doc says we’re keeping you overnight just to be on the safe side. Your boyfriend can visit for a little while, but then he’s going to need to go home. Visiting hours are over at nine p.m. sharp.”

  While the investigators had been taking his statement, night had fallen. Micah felt disoriented and groggy. “He’s not my boyfriend,” he whispered under his breath. “What does the J stand for, anyway?”

  “Joey.” The nurse smiled at Micah. He was extraordinarily handsome. A little on the small side, with short-clipped brown hair with red highlights, a narrow face, and high cheekbones. His expressive eyes were hazel-green and very kind. “Okay, fine, he’s not your boyfriend, but your not-boyfriend sure showed up here in a tizzy wanting to make sure you were okay. Then sat here all afternoon while you got your beauty sleep. How about I let him in one last time before visiting hours are over, and you two can discuss your relationship status. He’s a hottie; if you toss him back, let me know!” Joey left the room, a mischievous grin on his cute face.

  When the door opened again, Micah expected to see Adam. Instead, the human whirlwind named Brandon Campbell rushed in. Micah’d spaced that Brandon was on his emergency call list but was genuinely glad to see him. One look and the tears he hadn’t let out in front of Adam were flowing.

  “I really thought, when they called me, that I had lost you this time,” Brandon rasped out while holding Micah in a too-tight hug. Micah squeaked at the fierce love.

  “Oh, sorry, I forgot about your lungs. Stephanie is making up a room at our place. You can stay until the house is sorted out,” Brandon said, rubbing Micah’s back, before handing him a tissue for his nose.

  Right then Adam walked in, and the look on his face when he saw Brandon was priceless. Adam had no idea he didn’t need to worry about Brandon. Or Joey. Or anyone else. If he wanted Micah. A sharp pain in Micah’s chest made him whimper. He blamed it on the smoke inhalation.<
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  Twenty-Four

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Adam could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Of course Micah would go and stay with his friend whom he knew and trusted. He wouldn’t want to stay with Adam in his shitty motel room where there were probably mold spores just waiting to infect his lungs. He tightened his grip on the gym bag he had brought with him to take Micah’s stuff home and took off.

  The hallway was still bustling with nurses darting in and out of rooms, orderlies with carts, and, occasionally, an actual doctor. Adam turned a random corner and stopped short. His heart was beating so fast it hurt, and his fingers were icy. He leaned against the closest wall, trying to stay out of the way, but he couldn’t move any farther away from Micah’s room.

  It wasn’t a panic attack; he’d had those before. His heart felt bruised, like it had been pulled out of his chest without anesthesia and jammed back in. He didn’t know how he was still breathing. And, worst of all, he hadn’t realized how quickly he had fallen for Micah. Adam was so embarrassed he had assumed Micah would come home with him.

  About a millennium later, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

  The irritatingly cute nurse, Joey. The one who had flounced around earlier, flirting as he took Micah’s vitals, until Adam had wanted to throttle him. He now stood in front of Adam with his hand on his hip. He was shorter than Adam, which didn’t happen too often.

  “So, big bad cop guy, you’re going to belly up and run away?”

  Adam sighed, running his fingers through his hair. Why was he having this conversation? “We just met. I mean nothing. We hardly know each other. That Brandon guy knows him. He’ll take care of him. I’ll just be in the way.”

  A pugnacious expression crossed Joey’s handsome face. “Are you a coward, or an asshole? From here it’s hard to tell. Micah Ryan? He is gone for you. I didn’t hear him asking for—what’s that guy’s name?”

  “Brandon.”

  “Yeah, Brandon. That’s not who he was asking for in the exam room. He was asking for you. I wish someone would ask for me that way.”

  “We just met.”

  “You know what? That is a bullshit excuse. My parents—don’t get all in a twist, I’m not planning your wedding—my parents met, and within a week they both knew they were it for each other. They both felt it and accepted it and have been together for fifty years.”

  Adam stared at Joey, who looked like he was about twenty-five.

  “I was a late addition to the family,” Joey said wryly. “My parents were out celebrating my next older sister—and all the other neighborhood kids—graduating from college, with all their friends when they announced they had another bun in the oven. Anyway,” he shook his head, “are you going to get over yourself or let something that looks hot from here pass you by because you’re scared?”

  Had Joey just dared him to go get Micah?

  Apparently Adam harbored an inner twelve-year-old; he turned and stomped back down the hallway, hearing a wolf whistle in the distance. He was going to kill that kid and bury him in a shallow grave. He knew how to do it, after all.

  Back in the room, Brandon and Micah were chatting about Brandon’s farm and what sounded like dogs the size of Volkswagen Bugs. This further irritated Adam. Dropping the gym bag by the door, he stomped around to sit on the other side of Micah’s bed. Damned if he was going to run off. Right now, anyway. Micah’s hand was lying on the thin coverlet; he must be tired if it wasn’t flying around while he talked. Adam wrapped his hand around Micah’s, running his thumb along the tops of his knuckles.

  “Wait. You had a guy over? Has the earth stopped turning? Did I miss the second coming? Did you say you had drinks with a guy and slept with him?” Brandon looked right at Adam as he said it, too. Fucker.

  “Shut up,” Micah huffed.

  “How come I haven’t heard about this guy?” Brandon sounded hurt.

  “Because. Because it’s no big deal. Because we didn’t even meet on purpose; he just showed up there. Plus, because you’ve been married for a hundred years and have no life anymore,” Micah muttered.

  Because it was none of Brandon’s damn business, Adam thought.

  Adam had tried to pull his hand away after the no-big-deal comment, but Micah suddenly had a grip of steel, and Adam didn’t want to cause a scene. Yeah.

  “Okay, let me reiterate from my point of view: Micah Ryan, who, as far as his best friend knows, has not dated at all since the early 2000s. As far as I know you haven’t had sex since the first fish crawled up onto the sand. This Micah Ryan took someone home with him and slept on the couch with him?” Now Brandon, who Adam hated, was laughing so hard he was crying.

  “I was drunk. I think he rubbed my feet. Plus, we did too have sex. In my bed.” The meds were taking their toll for certain, or Micah probably wouldn’t have let that spill. Yeah, and Adam had rubbed his feet, and it had been amazing watching Micah relax.

  A nurse popped her head in the doorway. “Even rule-bending-late-visitor hours are over, gentlemen. You can come back tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay, I’ll come get you tomorrow. You need a place to stay. We still have room.” Brandon grabbed Micah and hugged him again until he was gasping for breath.

  “Um, Adam said he’d be here.” Victory for Adam, who decided to brave the nurse’s wrath and stay a minute longer. He smiled his most wolfish smile right at Brandon.

  “I’ll be here in the morning anyway.” With that, Brandon left the room, leaving Micah sputtering.

  “You have yourself a watchdog, huh?” Adam loved making Micah blush. It was his new purpose in life. He knew what Micah was thinking about. And it wasn’t his friend, Brandon.

  Twenty-Five

  TWENTY-FIVE

  They let Micah go the next afternoon with strict instructions to take it easy. He was ecstatic to be leaving. Adam waited patiently, listening to Joey’s instructions, then wheeled Micah to his car.

  The morning meeting between Brandon and Adam had gone as well as expected. Adam hadn’t even been too defensive about Brandon’s embarrassingly direct questions. Brandon, however, acted like Micah was a Victorian spinster who had never had dealings with the outside world. Micah had wanted to die of mortification. Adam had said something irritatingly polite about how it was nice Micah had friends to help out. If Brandon hadn’t left when he did, Micah would soon have had one less friend.

  Brandon had left, claiming he trusted that Adam would take care of Micah properly, but not before vaguely threatening Adam with bodily harm. Micah had pulled the thin hospital blanket over his head, groaning in embarrassment, while Adam laughed.

  After leaving the stupid wheelchair by the curb, Adam asked Micah what he wanted to do, and then informed him that he was not going to let him do anything but come back to Adam’s hideous motel room and rest. Micah huffed but didn’t deny that was exactly where he wanted to be.

  Micah hadn’t gotten any sleep at the hospital. For whatever reason—latent fear, anxiety, hospital noises as the staff cared for other patients throughout the night—hospitals weren’t meant for sleep. As soon as he would start to drift off, another nurse would be in checking on him, waking him up. It was enough to make a generally calm man go bonkers.

  Micah also wanted to pick up his cat, find some fresh clothing, and get his laptop, but he had no way to do it. He was upset and frustrated; he hated feeling helpless. Being taken care of by someone he wanted to impress was galling. He tried to pay attention to what Adam was saying on the drive to the motel, but he was exhausted.

  “Your car is parked at the motel. I picked it up yesterday afternoon. You can’t stay at your house for a little while, anyway. You’re going to need to talk to insurance folks and see about cleanup. I would have called for you if I could have.” Micah leaned against the headrest and shut his eyes while Adam kept talking. “You aren’t listening at all, are you?” Micah rolled his head to look at Adam. The car pulled to a stop.

  “What?”

  “I asked
you if you wanted to stop at your house and see if you can salvage some clothes. Never mind, we’ll do that later.”

  “I want a shower.”

  “Okay, I can do that.” The car began moving forward again.

  Adam’s motel room was so tidy it hardly looked like he was staying there. His duffel was stashed in the corner, and a second pair of boots sat next to the closet. That was the only proof he existed.

  After mother-henning Micah from the car to his door, Adam commanded that Micah sit on the couch while he found him something to wear after his shower.

  Micah’s eyes were closed, but he wasn’t asleep yet, just rolling into Adam as the couch cushion dipped with the weight of their bodies. Adam slung his arm around Micah’s shoulders, pulling him even closer. Not tight enough to hurt his lungs—just tight enough to feel safe. Even if he’d had the energy, Micah wasn’t going to fight what was growing between them. Whatever it was, he was grabbing and holding tight with both hands.

  As soon as he wasn’t so incredibly tired.

  They sat like that for a long time, maybe an hour. Micah didn’t know or care. Neither of them said anything. Finally, Adam loosened his hold a little.

  “You really need a shower,” he said, leaning close and sniffing Micah’s neck.

  Micah hadn’t wanted a sponge bath from the nurse. His sputtering refusal had made Adam and Joey laugh. Which earned them both a scorching glare. Jerks.

  Adam helped Micah stand to peel his clothes off. Micah knew he smelled of sweat, smoke, and probably fear. He tried to pull away and do it himself, but Adam gripped him tightly, the fierce expression on his face making it clear Adam needed to do this. He ran his hands tenderly, slowly, down Micah’s arms to his back, cupping his ass. Tracing him with his hands. He was alive and mostly uninjured, but he could tell Adam needed the reassurance of touch, stroking and kneading his ass cheeks. Micah leaned into him, not resisting the comfort Adam needed to give. His arousal surprised him, a low hum; he didn’t have the energy to get off. But this light caress comforted them both. This was the affirmation they both needed. Winding his arms around Adam’s neck, Micah rested his full weight against him. Adam held him up.