Chapter 11
Will wasn’t thrilled about revealing one of his safehouses to Cole, if only because this was one of his favorites.
On the other hand, it was the closest to Montreal—they could drive there in two hours, which seemed kind of important as the bruises from almost falling out a fucking glass cage began to set in, Jesus Christ. The first night it had been bearable, because adrenaline was a hell of a drug, but day two was bad enough he hadn’t wanted to get out of bed in the morning.
Not that he’d let Cole know that. The guy had been kind of twitchy ever since Will’s near-fall, which… Will got it. Cole didn’t have to like Will to not want to see him splashed across the pavement, although it seemed like he might be coming around on the liking part.
The thought made Will grin to himself as he recalled what his brother had said about him the last time he’d been home, when his in-laws had gone out of their way to make his favorite dishes his second night back.
This was after years of barely tolerating his presence on their ranch. “You grow on people. Like a fungus.”
He’d take it.
Even better, Reed was close enough to meet them at the safehouse tomorrow, which meant they could get serious about hunting down Marcus. Hell, between the two of them, Reed and Cole probably had the skills to hack the CIA. They could find one idiot art thief, even if he was having a run of luck.
Getting over the border was a simple matter of providing the right-wrong passports and looking resigned at having to go back to America.
Then Will drove them to the outskirts of Montpelier, down a rural road with a sign that read Shelly’s Sugar Shack, and finally stopped in front of the last of four rustic log cabins.
That was the one he asked Shelly to keep available for him year-round, and she was happy to do it, given the screaming good deal he gave her on the mortgage on this place.
Will parked the rental as quietly as he could, then turned to his companion, who was out cold.
It had been so tempting to start blasting Taylor’s “Shake It Off” the second he realized Cole had fallen asleep, but Will had decided to be merciful instead.
It had been hard enough convincing him to come here instead of flying out of the city.
Will had only won that argument because neither of them wanted to chance being recognized by people at the airport after the articles about them came out.
They didn’t need to carry this publicity back home if they could help it.
Thank fuck Baby Boy didn’t know what had happened. There’d be no stopping him from tearing Will a new one if he did.
Will got out of the car and hunted up the spare key from the pretend pile of moose shit out back—so Vermont—and opened the cabin up. It smelled a little stale, but it wasn’t dusty and the sheets were clean. Good enough. He went back out to the car, opened up Cole’s door, and—
Almost got head-butted as Cole woke up with a start. “What the hell?” he muttered hoarsely, looking toward the lit cabin with confusion on his groggy face.
“We’re here, honeybee,” Will said.
“Where is here?”
“Montpelier.” Will let Cole process that as he got their bags out of the back, then tapped the bumper with his foot to close it. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
Cole got out of the car looking decidedly rumpled, a far cry from the well-groomed way he preferred to present himself. Even at the hotel—hell, even in his own apartment—Will had never seen him less than put-together.
Looks like you just have to run him down to empty to be treated to the sight of ruffled Cole.
Not the way Will would have preferred to do it, but…
“Why do you have a safehouse in Vermont?”
“Because I like maple syrup,” he said dryly. “Now get inside before the neighbors see us, huh?” Not that they’d care; these cabins were for tourists who came looking for the farm experience, not regulars who’d wonder who the fuck they were, but still. Safety first.
Cole ran a hand through his hair as he headed for the stairs, messing it up even further.
Will resolutely ran through this season’s Cowboys statistics as he followed Cole inside, because he did not need to follow that other train of thought to its logical conclusion, which of course was replacing Cole’s hand with his own.
Get a fucking grip on yourself. In private, preferably.
“Living room,” he said as he kicked the door shut behind them and dropped their bags on the floor. “Kitchen’s to the right, bathroom’s to the left, bedroom is straight back. There’s only the one, but the couch unfolds into a pullout.” He smiled. “Hope you enjoy it.”
Then Cole just… nodded.
Wait. What the fuck?
“I’m using the bathroom first, though,” he said, taking his bag over to the couch and rummaging through it until he found his sleep clothes. Sleep clothes, because the man was too posh to call them jammies.
“No.” It slipped out of Will’s mouth before he could stop himself.
Cole glanced over at him. “While I agree that you need a shower, I’m about to fall asleep standing up, so—”
“I mean, no, you’re not sleeping on the fucking couch.” It just didn’t compute. Cole Dalton didn’t sleep on creaky pullout couches when there were other options available.
Cole rolled his eyes. “You just said I was.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to agree with me!”
Cole stared at him for a moment before coming over and laying his wrist across Will’s forehead.
He resisted the urge to lean into it. “What?”
“You must be running a fever.”
“Oh, shut the barn door.”
“I don’t think that’s how that idiom works.”
Will batted his hand away, then snatched Cole’s bag off the couch and carried it back into the bedroom.
Cole followed him, irritation written across his face.
It was enough to make Will smile. “Enjoy the bed,” he said with a grin.
“It’s king-sized, so almost big enough to fit your body and your ego at the same time. ”
“Absolutely not.” Cole sounded unexpectedly firm about being denied the simple pleasure of a bed that didn’t suck.
“Why not?” Will asked.
“Because your back is killing you.”
Uh. Um.
“It has been since the Tower,” Cole went on, blithely destroying Will’s former impression of his place in the man’s mental hierarchy.
“You’re good at hiding your discomfort, but I was awake for most of that car ride and I saw you come out of the bathroom after your shower this morning.
You’re covered in bruises and that tackle on concrete didn’t do you any favors, either. You need the bed.”
“I’ve slept better in worse places,” Will said almost by rote. He was not mentally or emotionally equipped for this level of attention to be paid to him by Cole.
“Yeah, well you won’t have to tonight.” Cole went to pick up his bag again, and—
“We could share.”
It fell into the air between them like another fake Puffin, heavy and awkward and probably about to get shattered with a “no.” But Will didn’t want Cole to say no.
“It’s a big bed,” he went on, hopefully not so fast that it came off as a ramble.
“And the couch really is shit. Neither of us should sleep there if we can avoid it. It’ll be fine. ”
Cole looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding. “All right. I still get the bathroom first, though.” He stepped past Will into the hallway, and Will…
Bless my motherfuckin’ heart, I’m an idiot.
But he was an idiot who was going to have to live with the consequences, so he went and got his own bag and didn’t think about the fact that he was going to get into bed with Cole in a few minutes.
A freshly showered, minty smelling Cole wearing stupidly soft sleep clothes and, shit, maybe even reading glasses if Will was really lucky.
He was even luckier—Cole was fast asleep by the time Will got out of his own shower and back to the bedroom. Will breathed a sigh of relief as he crept around to the far side of the bed and slid under the covers. The sheets were almost uncomfortably cool, but he knew he’d warm up soon enough.
All on my own, God willing and the creek don’t rise.
Surely his body wouldn’t betray him like that. He’d trained himself out of that habit years ago; he almost never ended up plastered to whoever he was in bed with these days. It would be fine.
Will set the alarm on his phone to wake him up a little before nine—almost six hours from now, luxurious—and closed his eyes.
It would be fine.
He woke up deliciously sweaty, the kind of warmth his body craved after a childhood spent living in the humid heat of Texas.
God, it was nice. Felt like the first time he’d been really warm since…
he couldn’t even remember. His phone was being annoying, though.
Will grunted where he had his face pressed to someone’s shoulder blade and reached back with his top hand for wherever he’d stuck that damn—
Fuck.
Will froze for a second, then followed through on his first impulse and found his phone, thumbing off the alarm with a minimum of movement.
It seemed like Cole was still asleep, breathing so softly Will could barely even feel it, and he didn’t stir as Will carefully loosened the octopus-like hold he had on his bedmate.
Bedmate. Ha. I wish.
But as much as Will could be an asshole, he didn’t actually want to make Cole feel cornered after he’d basically forced the man to sleep beside him last night, so he pulled away as delicately as he could, filling in the space with blanket immediately after so Cole didn’t feel the chill of the room.
Shit, it was cold here in the morning. Thank God it wasn’t winter.
Will pulled the Air Force hoodie he’d stolen from his brother out of his bag and slipped it on as he escaped into the hallway, leaving Cole none the wiser behind him with a little sigh of relief. There was a little regret, too, but it was what it was. And his back did feel a lot better, so…