by J. M. Dabney
“You can come in,” Pure said without looking up from a stack of mail he was going through. “Hungry?”
“Nah, I'm good.”
“It's too late to cook, but I have some leftovers.”
Pure was nervous about him being there, so he figured letting the man feed him would be a good distraction. He knew they weren’t best friends and probably never would be. With his background, relationships were a no-go, and Nicolas Warner screamed commitment. Who else would hold on to their virginity for thirty years? Pure would be like touching the sun. Someone who would wash away his sins or at least help him forget them. He couldn’t allow himself to get burned.
Once he had Pure, he wouldn’t let go, and that would turn into his biggest sin of all.
“Okay, what ya got?” he asked as he headed for the kitchen area.
When he walked in, he found Pure already bent over and looking in the fridge. Black fabric molded to the most spank-worthy ass he’d ever had the good fortune to see. Holy fuck, but was that ass deserving of a brutal pounding. That thought right there made him unworthy of Pure. He was not in any way, shape, or form the person to be someone’s first anything, especially not fuck.
“Fried chicken, roasted brussel sprouts, and mashed sweet potatoes.”
“You made that for just you?” He had a moment of jealousy thinking Pure was cooking for someone else.
“Yeah, we eat a lot of take-out, so when I'm home, I like to cook. Mom made me self-sufficient.”
“Ain't a bad thing.”
“If you don’t like any of that, I can cook something else.”
“Sounds perfect. I was just going to hit the fast-food drive-thru. Thanks.” The word sounded foreign coming from his mouth. He didn’t thank anyone because he never asked for anything. His parents worked their asses off to make sure he could take care of himself. His dad was a cop, and his mom was a nurse, and he’d done everything possible to make raising him hell.
“You’re welcome.”
Pure went about gathering everything and setting it on the small island, then turning to heat the oven. It was so domestic and shit, then a thought struck him. “Brownies.”
Pure spared him one glance. “Brownies?”
“Where did you get the brownies you brought in last week? I asked Ben over at Decadence, and he had no idea.”
“Oh, I made those. I think I have another—” Pure’s voice trailed off as he opened another cabinet and pulled down a gallon-sized bag. “These?” Pure laid them on the island in front of him and went back to reheating dinner.
“Yeah, those were fucking amazing. So you cook and bake?”
He’d always wanted to ask Pure about himself, learn every detail, but he’d refrained from doing so. Maybe it overwhelmed his curiosity since he was about to spend the night to watch over Pure.
“Mom is a chocoholic. While she was working in the evenings, I’d make her brownies and cakes, whatever she mentioned she was craving. So, when she got home, she’d have something. I spent most of my chore money on learning to bake her the things she liked.”
Could the man get any fucking sweeter? Pure couldn’t be real. “Why’s that?”
“She gave up a lot for me. The least I could do is make her a batch of cookies.”
“What about your dad?”
“High school quarterback, the college star, then professional, but that’s all I know. He went off to college and left Mom behind, pregnant.”
“Didn’t he help out? If he reached the professional level, then the man could afford—”
“He denied it, and, well, Mom was too embarrassed to come forward. Her family was fundamentally religious and disowned her. Mom just wanted to go on with her life and try to forget.”
He looked around and noticed a picture on the fridge door. Pure with a tiny woman leaned against his side. Her head didn’t even meet his armpit. That woman pushed out Pure. That shit boggled the mind.
“Is this her?” He walked around the island and pulled the picture from under the magnet.
“The day I left for bootcamp.”
“Marine?” He’d known Pure was a sniper in the military, but he hadn’t known which branch.
“Yeah. Mom couldn’t afford college, and they’d pay.”
“Why are you working as a bounty hunter slash sniper at Trenton, college boy?”
“Didn’t go. I was out of the Marines by twenty-one, spent a year on the Atlanta PD S.W.A.T. team, and Linus recruited me to work for him. I got the chance to move home.”
“Not all there is to it, I’m sure.”
“Some guy on my team didn’t like the word no, I loosened his teeth and broke his jaw.”
“Good for you.”
“Thanks. My commanding officer didn’t see it that way.” Pure opened the oven and slid in a baking sheet with their dinner on it, then straightened.
The idea of someone else putting their hands on Pure enraged him. Hell, he didn’t even like other men standing near Pure. He needed to get over this obsession, or he was going to have to move on. It was easier to ignore when he was only a freelancer, getting the occasional call from Linus. For six months he’d been in the office full-time and living in Powers.
“Pure, man, you home, please be fucking home!”
He spun on his heels. He’d locked the damn door behind him, and suddenly Little was on his knees in front of Pure.
“Poe won’t talk to me, ya gotta talk to him.”
Poe was Little’s pretty, little husband. They fought constantly, and it was actually cute to watch the tiny, chunky man take on a behemoth like Little. Little caved instantly.
“What did you do now?”
Little threw his arms around Pure’s thighs and hung on tight. He wasn’t liking Little touching Pure, but he had no right to say anything.
“He fell on my dick.”
Pure groaned and threw his head back, then went back to glaring down at Little. “The last time Poe fell on your dick was when he woke up to pink hair, and you failed to tell him as he’s panicking that it was temporary color. Or when Poe woke up, and you told him he was going to marry you. Or…”
“I get it, man, I do, but he’s so sexy when he’s mad, and I gotta have my man on my dick. Ya gotta call him, man. He always listens to you.”
“Fine.” Pure sighed and pulled out his phone.
“You made food?” Little surged to his feet and rushed to the oven. The man opened it and started picking things off the pan.
“Help yourselves.”
He watched Pure roll his eyes and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“Speaker,” Little yelled with a mouth full of food.
“Yes, I’ll put it on speaker.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” he demanded.
“Poe only listens to Pure when he’s mad at me.”
“Are you sixteen? Take care of your own shit.”
“I can’t,” Little loudly whined, and he looked more like a kid than a badass in his thirties.
“Pure, I don’t want to talk about it.” Poe’s voice filled the kitchen.
“Poe, tell me what Little did this time. If you talk it out, then you can get his oversized ass out of my house. He ate everything I had last time. How do you afford him?”
“It’s not easy. It’s a full-time job just to keep him in groceries. His paycheck barely covers his energy drinks!”
“Hey, I make—”
“I’m not talking to you.”
Poe yelled, and he even flinched at the high-pitched tone. Poe was a bit high-strung. The couple was weird, and they deserved each other—who else would put up with Little’s shit except someone as crazy as him?
“Fuck, just tell me what he did.”
Pure was getting tired, and the big man was starting to look worse for wear. The man needed to eat and go to bed and not deal with acting as a marriage counselor.
“He bought me presents.”
“Do I even want to ask?”
“It
’s a hairless cat who hates me, and a huge iguana I’m sure is looking at the cat as a snack. I can’t deal with that. What if the dragon eats the kitten and then I’m devastated by the guilt? This is too much pressure. This is why I vetoed kids. What if I had broken one? Now I’m going to watch the dragon devour the cat, and that’s going to be forever burned into my brain. Little knows this. He does this to torture me.”
Raul was pretty sure that the entire statement was made in one breath. He didn’t know whether to laugh or run as far away from the insanity as he could get. He hadn’t realized the full extent of Trenton and Crew craziness until he was witnessing it as a permanent member of the team.
“Harvey was only making friends with Twinkie!”
“See, he named the cat after a snack and Harvey is take…oh my fake Jesus, he’s licking the cat again. He’ll probably ask me for salt so the stringy little shit tastes decent. Did I mention I lost Harvey already or that I had to rescue Twinkie from sudden death after finding the hideous creature licking energy drink cans on Little’s cesspool of a desk?”
“I told you Harvey might have some interspecies fetish, it’s nothing,” Little growled.
“Now I have to worry about dragons that look like cats when Harvey decides to put on some slow jams and light some—”
"Do you and Little live to torture me?" Pure demanded.
"I'm the normal one, Pure. Little is best friends with Lily. There is no amount of therapy to correct that! And let me tell you I’ve tried. I can’t even sleep around him. He covered me in glitter and shined the spotlight on me so he could watch it reflect onto the ceiling! Six months and I’m ready—”
“Poe.”
Oh shit, Little had a bit of separation anxiety leftover from when he was a kid, and his abandonment issues were legendary. Little’s sad tone even made him feel bad for the guy.
“Oh shit, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I promise. I love you. You know that.”
“I want to come home.”
One fucking tear and he was out of there, concussed Pure or not. He didn’t do all this emotional stuff well. They said he lacked empathy, which was just a nice way of saying he’s an asshole.
“I’ll order pizza, and we’ll cuddle.”
“Blowjob?”
He jerked his gaze to Pure to find the man biting his lips to hide a smile. Little was leaned into Pure’s side, and Pure rubbed Little’s back.
“Anything you want. I really am sorry.”
Pure disconnected the call. “Get the hell out of my house and go get your makeup blowjob.”
“Thanks, Pure.”
Raul nearly took Little’s head off as the man leaned Pure back over his arm, kissing him on the mouth.
“Dude, I know where your mouth has been!”
“You ain’t gonna tell me you ain’t looked at my Poe’s ass a time or two.”
“He’s not exactly my type.”
He stood back watching as Little gasped and Pure just smiled sweetly.
“I don’t even know who you are.”
Little righted Pure and then stormed from the house, the slamming of the door nearly rattling the windows. “Is that all it takes to get rid of him?”
“Usually the promise of a blowjob from Poe and or food. I don’t think Little ate everything I heated up.”
Pure started to remove the baking sheet from the oven, but he stopped the man. He took the dishtowel and pointed toward the doorway.
“Go take a shower or whatever, I can take care of myself. Just point me in the direction of the important things.”
Pure turned to the side and pointed toward the large entryway leading to the living room. “Well, go down that hall, guest bathroom is the first on the right, towels and extra stuff is in the hall closet. Bedroom is across from the bathroom. Gym is in the basement, everything is dusty, though. Did you need something to sleep in?”
“No,” he answered and hated that his voice sounded harsh. He was too used to his own company.
“Okay.”
“I’m probably just gonna crash. I’ll need to check on you every couple of hours, make sure to leave your door unlocked.”
Pure acted as if he wanted to complain, but he gave the beautiful man a look that dared him to argue. Then he was left alone in the kitchen to make his plate, and he just stood at the counter eating. Typically, dinner was from any fast-food place he passed on the way back to his extended stay motel. He kept telling himself that he’d get a place—settle in and claim a spot where he didn’t feel as if he was constantly on the run.
He finished his last bite of food and turned around in order to wash what he used quickly. He’d always had a habit of leaving no trace of himself behind as if he were no more than a ghost. Permanence was an oddity to him. Even as a child, he hadn’t felt as if he belonged anywhere. He’d taken a job that made sure he never had to settle in one place, until this one.
Freelancing for Trenton Security was a lucrative arrangement, but that hadn’t factored into the reason he took the full-time job. He knew he couldn’t have Pure, yet he also couldn’t resist being around him. The sweetness of the man was something he’d never experienced before. Pure held fast to his morals. Never even playfully hinted at having sexual thoughts while everyone around them openly talked about sex.
The last mission they’d been on together to find Gage’s niece had opened his eyes to something. There was more to Pure’s aversion to sex than just waiting for the right person. They’d shared a room with double beds the two nights they were on the assignment, and each night Pure had cried out in his sleep. He hadn’t said a word about it.
He strode through the house making his way to Pure’s bedroom. He smiled when he found the door open like he’d ordered and he leaned onto the door frame. Pure’s wide chest and curved belly were covered in thick hair. It was the first time he’d seen the man shirtless. He took a moment to study the ink that covered Pure’s arms from knuckles to shoulders. They were an abstract scene that changed the more he stared. He made out hints of bodies, shapes that could’ve represented forests or warzones. There was a single tattoo that ran the length of Pure’s ribs. He eased into the room and saw the beautiful script writing. Strength is being able to love past the pain. He read the words and felt his brows draw together.
He tensed as Pure shifted in his sleep, and the sheet slipped to expose superhero briefs. He rolled his lips between his teeth to keep from chuckling. The large adorable man was his only weakness. Big and soft, ruthless when he needed to be, and he wanted Pure more than he had anyone else. It was difficult to remember he couldn’t have the man.
“Raul, what are you doing?”
Pure rolled to his side and hugged a pillow to his chest. The man rubbed his scruffy cheek against the stark white pillowcase. He looked so innocent and beautiful. He felt so possessive of the bigger man. “Was going to check on you before I jumped in the shower.”
“There’s sweatpants in the bottom drawer if you want them.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t linger in case Pure figured out he’d been watching him sleep for a few minutes longer than he should have. It had become a frustrating habit. He knew that the rest of the team thought they had a thing for each other. Little took every chance to trap them together. The last time was in the gun locker in the basement of Trenton Headquarters, and Little had decided they needed a sex talk with puppets. He was going to kill that fucker one of these days.
He chuckled to himself as he dug the sweatpants out and hurried to the bathroom to shower, then crash for the night. He’d have to be up every couple of hours to check on Pure. He was looking forward to it. Being able to stay in Pure’s space only briefly was a guilty pleasure, and he’d enjoy it until things went back to normal.
DAY WITH THE CREW BABIES
P ure opened the door before the knock sounded, and there were babies everywhere. He grabbed the double stroller with Crave and Twitch’s twins inside. They were still in the eat, sleep, and poop stage. He didn�
��t care because Lila and Annette were perfect. Once he had them pulled inside, he took Loco, Mary and Bear’s toddler, and cuddled him. Mary just shook her head at him. Elisabeth and Ricky were holding hands as they entered. They were both carried by the same surrogate, so they favored each other except for Elisabeth’s dark brown skin and Ricky’s lighter complexion.
He loved baby days.
“You sure you’re up for this? You had a rough day.”
He shook his head at Mary. “I’m fine. I don’t even have a headache.” He looked forward to his day off. Normally he had the whole crew of kids from youngest to the oldest—Juvie was in her twenties, and Princess was almost twenty.
When he was younger, he’d dreamed of finding a man to love and having a big family. That wasn’t in the cards anymore, but his nieces and nephews were the highlight of his life.
“I have everything to make cookies and decorate them. I rented the newest kid’s movie. It’s all planned out. Have they had breakfast yet?”
“No, they’re probably starving. Loco had some apple slices while I made Bear’s lunch. Just call if it’s too much.”
“I promise. Now leave.” He shooed Mary, and she shook her head at him.
He didn’t want to be rude, but he wanted Mary to go before Raul woke up. It would be all over the Crews if Mary saw Raul coming from the direction of his bedroom. Luckily, she left without further protest, and he leaned down to gently nudge the little girls to the kitchen. He had to get breakfast started. He was a bit tired and sore, but he needed the distraction of the kids, and they were always good. He rolled the stroller and turned it around in front of the patio door. Then he pulled the stools out, got each of the older kids settled with coloring books and crayons, and propped up his tablet for them to watch cartoons.
He gave them each a handful of dry cereal to keep them occupied until he finished the food. He also had another mouth to feed. He placed the bacon on a baking sheet after preheating the oven. He carried on a conversation with the kids as he chopped vegetables for omelets for him and Raul. The kids would get scrambled.