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

by Elle Keaton

  Yet Adam had come to Skagit and woken Micah up. A prince waking . . . well, calling himself Sleeping Beauty was stupid, but Micah felt like he had been asleep for a hundred years. Now that he was awake again, it was clear he needed to take care of Adam. Whether Adam liked it or not.

  Leading a creepily passive Adam into the bedroom, where the bed was still unmade, Micah pushed him onto it. It was scary how pliant he was. Adam probably just needed a safe place to check out for a little while, but it was kind of freaking Micah out. At least Adam had come to Micah’s and not left for parts unknown, as the duffel suggested he’d planned to, or gone and gotten drunk again. Micah grimaced at the thought of that little weasel Sterling putting his hands on Adam.

  Once Micah had Adam mostly undressed, shoes off and curled up under the handmade comforter that had been his parents’, he stripped down as well and slid in with him. His clients were just going to have to wait another day. Today he got to be the big spoon plastered to Adam’s back, ready to fight any dragons, demons, or other beasts, real or imagined.

  Micah woke in the early afternoon, but Adam was still sleeping heavily. The Booking Room, where he was fairly confident he’d find Ed, was a good enough place to start looking for the information he needed.

  Ed was a gold mine. He admitted that Adam had grown up surrounded by adults who did nothing to raise him. Micah had known this from things Adam had said, but it was still a little shocking to have it confirmed. Not that he’d thought Adam had lied, but he’d hoped Adam had been exaggerating the extent of his abandonment.

  “That boy. We all thought we were so goddamned marvelous. Gerald would have him making drinks for us, fetching this and that.” Ed paused, clearly ashamed. “When Gerald died, I hoped the boy would come home. I wanted to apologize. I saw him at the funeral, but he didn’t stay to greet anyone. The thing was a dog-and-pony show anyway, the city wanting to show how much they loved Gerald Klay when all they ever liked was the dollars he brought from selling his work. Adam just stood at the back, like always, and watched.” He was silent for a moment.

  “I don’t think anything bad happened to him out there, but probably nothing good, either. Unless Gerald was working, we were smoking and talking about stupid shit; we thought we were real smart. When Adam was real little, Gerald kept women around. We all did. But seems like that kind of ended when Adam could get himself to the school bus out on the county road.”

  “Did all of you live out there?” Micah couldn’t imagine.

  “Yes . . . no . . . I guess, sometimes. Look, Micah, I’m not proud of that time. I did a lot of wrong. I don’t believe in that AA stuff except for apologizing; not many of us left to do that.”

  “Yeah?”

  Ed rolled his eyes up, thinking. “The guys helping clean Gerald’s place—except for Charlie Maker, who’s in jail for tax evasion, it’s just us left. Used to be a group of about ten. We’ve drowned, frozen to death, plain disappeared, a couple overdoses in the early days . . . we never were half as smart as we thought. Except for Gerald, who was too smart to live normal.” He rubbed his scruffy chin. “Don’t know much about the women. Except for Sara’s mother. She was a snake; sure looked like a fairy, though. I didn’t know Sara existed until she showed up. Sara’s mother didn’t care about me. I guess she tried to use Sara for all sorts of scams and stuff when she was little, welfare and stuff. Never came to me, though; probably knew I wasn’t much use back then.”

  “How did Sara find you?” Micah asked.

  Ed huffed. “Funny. I guess Rhonda pulled one too many scams and was sent to Purdy for a while. Sara ended up living with a variety of so-called family. She was sixteen or seventeen, and one of them asked why she wasn’t living with her dad, why she was leeching off people who couldn’t afford her. She said she didn’t know who he was, and this person pulled out a whole handful of papers and my name was there somewhere.”

  Ed hastened to say he had insisted on a DNA test, not because he didn’t want to be Sara’s father, but to protect her. Although just looking at them Micah knew they were related. Sara had Ed’s dark hair, and her eyes were the same color and shape.

  “I’m not saying it was easy. At first I was angry and resentful; you would have thought I was the teenager. But Sara, she’s persistent and kind of just wears a person down after a while. She got a job and started school, and the next thing I knew I was looking forward to spending time with her. Anyway, you didn’t come here to talk about me and Sara.”

  Micah had gotten swept up in Ed’s story, derailed from his purpose of finding out more about Adam. He felt weird going behind Adam’s back, but Adam was in no state to share his childhood with Micah.

  “Right. I was just wondering what it was like for Adam. Uh, you know, to grow up here, with Gerald Klay as his dad.”

  “Gerald was no treat himself. But he had a way with the ladies, if you know what I mean.”

  Micah didn’t know, but he nodded to keep Ed talking.

  “Like I said, there was always one hanging around, willing to do the cooking and cleaning—to be the artist’s girlfriend. Adam’s mother lasted longer than most. I guess he brought her home from a show he did in San Francisco. She musta got knocked up right away. Had that baby and then got the hell out. She didn’t even want to touch it, Gerald said. Well,” he mused, lost in the past for a moment, “there were other girls after that, of course—and now there was a baby. Gerald did love that boy, in his own way. But eventually I guess he got tired, or they got tired, or just the lifestyle got to them and they stopped coming around. Adam was about school-aged, like I said. He pretty much raised himself from then. It wasn’t right.”

  Micah missed his family. It was something he would never heal from; he could only move forward. At least, though, he had good memories to pull out to comfort him on lonely nights. He’d been lucky. Not lucky that they were taken; that had almost killed him as well. But lucky to have been loved and accepted for himself.

  Memories of hilarious Thanksgiving dinners when his mother would invite the single grad students and divorced secretaries, encouraging illicit matches. They would all play board games, and after dessert everyone had to play melon football. The team not in possession of the melon when it finally exploded won. Birthday parties, family vacations—all memories he was sure Adam did not have.

  He’d been selfish not appreciating those things and instead focusing so much on the fact that there wouldn’t be any more memories made with his parents and sister. He had been living in a stupor for a while, but that was over now; he was stronger now. His parents would be ashamed, maybe even angry at how Micah had fallen apart and then let himself stay that way.

  Micah felt weirdly energized. It wasn’t just the incredible sexual experiences with Adam, although he wasn’t going to discount sex. It was as if he had woken from a deep sleep. He was done with that; sleep was for the dead. The thought made him wince, but the truth was he had been like the dead, not honoring his parents’ or sister’s memories. Shona would want him to run and be happy, collect shells and heart-shaped rocks from the beach. Have a dog like they never did because Mom was allergic. Mom and Dad wouldn’t care that he didn’t do things the same way they did; they would be sad that he had limited himself to things he could do from the house.

  He didn’t think it was his place to talk to Ed in depth about the mysterious brother who had popped up in Adam’s life. From what he had said, though, it was certainly possible that another groupie had borne a child. Their lives seemed to have consisted of drinking and fucking and getting up around noon to start it all again. No wonder Adam was a mess.

  Thirty-Nine

  Thirty-Nine

  The rain was closing in on snow; Micah had forgotten gloves or a cap, and he shivered on his way from the car to his house. The repaired front door glimmered under the porch light. Another weird thing; after years of fighting the same sticky deadbolt he had watched his parents struggle with—now it was gone. Opening the door was easy.

  N
othing had changed inside the house. The afternoon chill was not disturbed, the air hanging still as it had before he’d left. He peeled off his coat and padded down the hall. Adam was still sleeping in Micah’s bed, safe under the warm covers. Adam was in the same position, but the cat had replaced Micah. The large orange fluff tucked against Adam’s back didn’t bother to look at him. Traitor.

  Micah didn’t want any more coffee, but he needed something warm to hold while he thought. He turned on the kettle and began making himself a cup of tea. It wasn’t until he reached into the cabinet for a mug that he realized the one his father had always used had been smashed during the break-in. He stood still and waited to feel devastated. It didn’t happen, and he almost cried in relief.

  Adam slept until late that afternoon. The man was obviously sleep-deprived as well as on emotional overload. He eventually shuffled into the kitchen with an adorably confused look on his face. Realistically, zero about Adam should be adorable. When Micah had first seen him at the Booking Room, he had been intimidated by Adam’s stern demeanor. Nothing about him was soft. Even his hair, sun-kissed as it was, usually dared not step out of place. Today it stuck up in all directions. Apparently, the spell was broken.

  Micah’s sleep pants were too long for Adam, and the hoodie he had found, God only knew where, was way too small and was gaping while he struggled like a small boy to zip it anyway.

  “That’s a great look on you.”

  Adam looked down at himself and groaned. “Fuck me.”

  Grabbing him by his gorgeous shoulders, Micah led him back into the living room, pushed him down onto the couch, and wrapped him in a fleece blanket he kept out for movies on cold nights. Even though he had just woken up, Adam melted into the corner of the couch and shut his eyes. Micah wanted to take a snapshot; who knew when he would have Adam like this again? He debated for about a quarter of a second before plopping down next to him. There was stuff they needed to talk about. Adam scooched closer and let his head fall onto Micah’s shoulder, his warm scent rising from the blanket.

  “Hey,” Micah whispered, nudging Adam with his elbow.

  “Mmm?”

  “I need to talk for a minute.” Adam tried to sit up, but Micah held him in place. “Just stay there, okay?”

  “Okay.” Micah could hear and feel the tension shoot back into his body. Dammit.

  “First, I need to confess that I talked to Ed Schultz this afternoon. I’m asking forgiveness after the fact, but . . .” he ran his hand through his hair, “I needed to understand more about Gerald and what it was like out there. I didn’t think you would mind; it’s probably common knowledge around here, but the more he told me, the more I felt like I was violating your privacy. I’m sorry.”

  Adam kind of grunted, and laid his head back down. “Yeah, that was a mess,” he said softly.

  “Ed told me his story—about Sara and everything. To be honest, I’m surprised all those guys don’t have a passel of kids. I’m sure they were too high and drunk to use condoms.”

  “Just don’t ask me about the first time I caught one of them having sex. Emphasis on first time. That was enough to keep my dick out of shit for years. They were living the dream, I guess. Gerald paid for everything, let them stay in the house or cabin. Some of them did produce work, but mostly not. Gerald was the only one who could focus in the chaos.”

  “You’re not angry?”

  “I’m numb, Micah. Mohammad’s been bugging me for years to talk about it. I guess now is as good as ever.”

  “Uh. Okay. So, it seems to me that the possibility of this half-brother being the real deal is high. Do you want to meet him?” He hadn’t gone through the stack of paperwork Adam had tossed onto the coffee table, but the letter right on top had been clear.

  “Here’s where I am a selfish asshole, Mic.” Adam sighed deeply before continuing. “I had this shitty-ass childhood, yet I wanted for nothing. I wasn’t hungry. I had clothes and a roof over my head. Gerald paid for a lot, even after I left. The one thing I wanted was a dad. Or a mom. Because I tell you, Carolyn is a piece of work.”

  “You don’t have to tell me all this.”

  “I want to. The one thing I wanted was the kind of family I saw other kids at school have. Probably the kind you had. Then Gerald and I had this big, stupid fight when he was wasted that I refused to let him apologize for, and we just let that fester for years . . . until he died. Now I’m angry that he died, that he let shit pile up, and that he was way more fucked up than I am. I’m angry that he did the best he could but it wasn’t enough. Just, fuck. Now I’m angry that I didn’t know him. How could he have another child and not tell me?”

  “I wonder if he knew? Ed didn’t know.”

  Adam looked at him. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What time is it?”

  “What?”

  “What time is it?” Adam repeated.

  “Uh, around four.”

  “So five in Phoenix.”

  “I guess?”

  “I think I want to call him.”

  Wow, this was not what he expected from his repressed, calculating fed.

  “I might as well get it over with.”

  That was more like it.

  “Hang on a sec. I, well, I talked to Mohammad, your boss—”

  “I know who Mohammad is. How did you talk to him?” Adam sat up, looking around for, Micah assumed, his cell phone.

  “Look, your phone was going off. It started buzzing about two and didn’t stop, so I finally answered.”

  Adam leaned back again with a groan. “Jesus Christ.”

  “Well, firstly he was worried about you because you hadn’t called and told him you were bored in a few days. Secondly he was, and here I quote, ‘very glad Adam decided to finally let himself relax.’ I’m supposed to tell you that he’s got news about the Hide case—”

  “Rochelle Heid,” Adam corrected.

  “Okay. Anyway, he said it looks good, solid. Also, something on the ‘other thing’ and that Weir will catch you up this evening? And,” Micah held up his hand, “he said you’d be mad, but he’s been assigned as your partner so get over it and don’t treat him like shit, he’s a great investigator, and not to take it out on me because I’m just the messenger.”

  Adam was generally hard to read. At first Micah had thought it was the investigator thing, but the closer he got, the more he figured it was Adam’s way and it just happened to mesh with being a fed.

  “I should quit being such a hard-ass. Weir’s a good guy. He doesn’t fuck up like the rest of them.”

  “I kind of think that might be the attitude Mohammad was talking about.”

  Adam grinned, his face lighting up, the little lines around his eyes making him even more handsome. A smile made him look like an entirely different person. A person Micah was growing very attached to. He was a stupid romantic at heart; he had to turn his head so Adam wouldn’t see what was very clearly written across his face.

  “Yeah, I know. I think Weir can handle it, though. And I’m not going easy on somebody who makes mistakes. I only get burned once.”

  “In the spirit of all this honesty we are throwing around, I should also tell you—”

  “Oh my fucking God, you told him about Seth!” Adam struggled to get up, but he was trapped between Micah and the arm of the couch. Micah grabbed Adam’s face between his palms, almost immediately distracted by the soft day-old stubble Adam had going. Something about something was what he’d planned on saying, but instead he pressed his mouth to Adam’s. Adam played hard to get for about two seconds before his lips opened and let Micah in.

  The heat of his mouth, the roughness of his tongue, the heady scent that was entirely Adam … Micah licked inside, holding Adam’s face still, and bit his full bottom lip, feeling Adam’s hot breath across his own cheek. His hands slid up into Adam’s hair. Adam’s hands had snuck down and begun pulling Micah’s shirt up to get to his sensitive nipples. He’d only been semi-aroused befo
re; now his dick was throbbing in time with his heart.

  Adam had the advantage now. He pushed Micah back onto the plush cushions, pulling his shirt off at the same time. The hoodie Adam had been wearing was gone like magic. Micah couldn’t see that magnificent chest and not make a fool of himself. Adam lowered himself onto Micah, his weight delicious, warmth touching Micah’s own hot, tight skin. The rough hair on Adam’s chest caught his nipples, and Micah gasped and moaned. He was so needy, but he needed more.

  Adam sucked Micah’s top lip into his warm, wet mouth. He slid his hands into the elastic waist of Micah’s ratty sweatpants, pulling them down just enough to expose the top of his dripping cock, which was throbbing in time with his heart. Adam’s pants were down, too, and he lined them up so they were touching and wrapped his large hand around both of them. His other hand was pinching Micah’s nipple. Two strokes had Micah grinding so hard against him they were both going to have blisters, but he couldn’t stop, there was just no way. His balls tightened, and everything he knew disappeared when Adam pressed back down against him. Micah could feel hot streams of come pulsing onto his belly. His, or Adam’s? That thought made him tighten up and, God knew how, he shot again. He couldn’t move his limbs.

  Adam rolled against the back of the couch, throwing his arm across his eyes. Neither of them moved to get a washcloth. Micah reached over his shoulder to try to reach the tissues he thought were there.

  “Did you just distract me with sex?” Adam’s tone was teasing.

  “Not on purpose. Did it work?”

  Adam snorted. “We both need a shower now, I’m not angry, and I guess I have to be a big boy and behave myself. Is there anything else I should know, or do you and Mohammad have it all worked out?”

  What Micah wanted to do was to lie around the rest of the evening naked under blankets, with a fire roaring in the huge fireplace. And to fuck. More. Again. His body felt so alive and aware. He wasn’t allowed call it “making love,” though, not even in his head. If he did, it would mess this fragile thing up. Adam was still X factor, intentions unknown; Micah couldn’t expect him to stay in Skagit, even if he did suspect Adam might feel something for Micah as well. Something more than casual.