Chapter 17 #2
“You’re nuts. He’ll never forget.” Nico crossed his arms over his chest, as if to indicate that this was his last word on the matter.
“He’s bound to,” Daniel insisted, squeezing the handle of the basket.
An army of ants marched back and forth over his scalp, but having Nico beside him stopped him from hiding in the back when he was here to shop for Gareth’s birthday dinner.
“Jack’s thousands of miles away, and he’s busy.
You’ve seen how long he takes to answer a text.
And Gareth said last night that he’s not sleeping, and you know how he gets then. He won’t remember what day it is.”
Nico took the leeks from Daniel’s hands, and then the basket, too. “Do you think we should call him? Or text?”
“Because now you think he’ll forget?”
“He won’t. But not being home will bug him. And then he’ll blame himself for not solving this case faster. If we tell him we’re making a birthday dinner for Gareth…” He glanced from the basket to Daniel. “We’ll, you’re making dinner, at any rate. But if we tell him…”
Daniel turned from his contemplation of vegetables and wrapped an arm around Nico’s neck. “He won’t be reckless. He can’t have goes at us and then do it himself.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Now make yourself useful. Monkfish or beef?”
“Beef. Why are you even asking that? I know! Remember when you made these thin slices of beef? You fried them so quickly the meat was barely cooked and—”
“You weren’t going to eat it.”
“I know. But once you dip it in the sauce and have wasabi… Gareth loved that.”
Daniel walked the length of the meat counter. Twice. “That’s an excellent idea,” he said and went to buy a slab of beef.
Gareth was already home when they trooped in. He sat in the kitchen, surrounded by wrapping paper, and with an expression on his face Nico couldn’t interpret.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing much,” Gareth said, folding the gaudy paper. As he cleared the table, Nico saw boxes with Japanese writing, and he remembered Christmas Eve, when he’d gone with Jack to collect a selection of Japanese whisky for Gareth’s present.
“Did Jack send this?”
“He did. And it must have cost him an absolute mint.” Gareth’s smile was something else.
He freed a bottle of Suntory from its box, cracked it open, and poured two fingers into the glass at his elbow.
“I may need to fortify myself before I unwrap the other present,” he said, taking a sip.
“I can’t read what it says on the box, but I have a sneaky suspicion I know what it is. ”
Removing the paper exposed a flat wooden case with metal clasps. Gareth opened the top almost reverentially to reveal the most magnificent set of chef’s knives Nico had ever seen. And judging by Gareth’s awestruck face, he wasn’t the only one.
Even Daniel, who didn’t care about aesthetics as long as his knives were sharp, drew in a deep breath. “Oh, good,” he said a moment later. “You can slice the beef.”
“I wish long-distance blow jobs were a thing,” Jack muttered when he got an eyeful of Gareth in nothing but boxer shorts, stretched out on their bed. The tousled hair and touch of colour in his cheeks told Jack at least one of his gifts had been sampled and appreciated.
“Long-distance… what? It must be eight in the morning where you are!”
“Half-past. What has that to do with anything?” Jack felt the urge to giggle and buried his face in a coffee mug instead.
Gareth, after a couple too many, was so much fun he felt another pang of guilt that he’d taken Aidan’s job.
Missing Gareth’s birthday hadn’t been part of the plan, and while they’d made progress, they were still a long way from unravelling Max’s mess.
“It’s still today. That’s all that matters. Happy birthday!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Gareth muttered. “I mean… who wants to be reminded that they’re getting old?”
“Old? Yeah, you look it.” Jack didn’t bat an eyelash. This was the reason he’d wanted to be home. When Gareth’s moments of introspection came on the heels of a drink or two, he needed Jack to distract him. “Did Daniel design a crazy dinner?”
Gareth smiled. “Seared beef with ginger, soy, and wasabi dip. I think it was Nico’s idea.”
“He’s getting a taste for the wasabi.”
“And he was eyeing my new knives. How did you even get those?”
“They have shops over here.”
“Granted. But… I’ve looked at these knives. They’re special order.”
“Yeah, so? I ordered them.” Jack didn’t mention the favours he’d traded.
Tokaji-sensei had the contacts, Tempest had the clout, and the trickiest part had been the international courier service.
When Jack put his mind to it, he could move mountains, and Gareth knew it.
Or, at the very least, he stopped badgering for details.
Silence fell, and Jack felt Gareth’s gaze like a physical touch.
When he’d missed Gareth before—after walking out on his army career—it had been a diffuse sort of longing.
Now he knew how good they were together, missing Gareth felt like something sharp-toothed tearing at his gut.
Jack didn’t care for the sensation, but he would have fought with all he had to keep it.
“You’ve been thinking too much,” Gareth observed, and the sharp-toothed things laid into Jack again.
“I’ve been drinking too much coffee.”
“That too. But you have been thinking.”
“Old ghosts.” Jack thought of Tempest’s living room and a wall of guitars.
Of a hungry kid, a fridge with a padlock, and a star who cooked to keep sane.
He thought of a roof in a rainstorm, and that accepting a fist to the face could be an apology.
Most of all, he thought of a calm oasis in the middle of busy Tokyo, of high walls and an austere garden made from rocks, moss, and water.
“I wasn’t convinced I had unfinished business here until Akane met me at the airport, and I found out that Max headed Tempest’s security.
It’s the one case I never saw the end of, and I’d resigned myself to that.
Now I get another crack at it. Life’s strange. ”
“No stranger than us meeting up again after seven years,” Gareth said, as always totally on the same page.
“Like that, yes. And yet… I wish I was beside you in bed right now. I can think of all kinds of enjoyable things we could be doing.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Gareth growled, though his smile had become just a touch more feral. He didn’t miss a trick, despite the extra glass or two he’d had. “Do I need to go beat up Conrad? What is that crap doing to you?”
Jack had no answer for that. He’d become less quick to bury thoughts and emotions he didn’t want to deal with.
Not that he spent hours going through his memories, but he could admit that he’d never trust Max again, not fully.
And that it made working together… uncomfortable.
“I never thought I’d like a rock star,” he said.
“But Tempest is… he’s considerate. And Min—that’s Max’s business partner—is rock solid. ”
“What about that Max guy?”
Jack smiled. “You mind-read now?”
“Don’t need to. I know you, Jack. Now answer the fucking question!”
“Max has ghosts of his own. First time I was here, he abandoned us in the middle of an op, without explanation. So…”
“Don’t turn your back on him.”
“Something like that.”
“Right.” Gareth punched his pillows into a more comfortable shape. “You working yet? Or are you still up?”
“Still up, but I’m due to head down to Tokaji-sensei’s dojo in an hour for some R&R.
” Gareth knew about Tokaji-sensei because it was one of the things Jack hadn’t minded sharing, right after they’d met again.
He would understand, without Jack having to spell it out, why he’d choose a session in the dojo to a bed in someone else’s house.
“Think you can sleep after that?”
“Doubt it.”
“Then why don’t you crash with me until you need to leave?”
Gareth moved his tablet to keep Jack in view even as he settled deeper into the bed. He looked all kinds of sexy, and Jack found he didn’t want to argue. He crossed the room and stretched out on the bed, dog-tired, but wide awake and buzzing.
“Now what?” he asked, grinning at the absurdity of it all.
Gareth’s grin made his breath quicken. “Now you can tell me about those long-distance blowjobs you’ve been thinking of.”