Chapter 3 #5
Considering how tense yesterday was, he’d expected to wake up angry, but Kyle’s efforts last night had proven effective in helping Jamie burn through his anger. The lingering issues with his father would always be there, but the fight last night no longer colored his mindset.
“Good.” Kyle levered himself up onto his elbow for a kiss marred by morning breath, but Jamie didn’t let that stop him from responding. He had Kyle with him, in his bed, and that would always be worth waking up to. “I’m hungry. Feed me.”
Jamie laughed. “There goes the romance.”
Kyle smacked Jamie on the chest, glaring half-heartedly at him. “I’ll romance you again later so long as you feed me now.”
“I thought your mission would run longer while I was away. I pushed back the food delivery for a few days, so there’s not much left.”
Kyle rolled his eyes and crawled off the bed, evading Jamie’s wandering hands with deft ease, and headed for the bathroom. “Then you’re paying for breakfast.”
“I see how it is. You only like being with me for my money.”
“And your dick,” Kyle shouted.
Jamie laughed a little at that, well aware of how much Kyle liked his cock.
Last night was just further proof of that.
Climbing off the bed, Jamie stretched a bit before following Kyle into the bathroom.
Kyle was spitting toothpaste into the sink, having already finished brushing his teeth.
Jamie brushed his own teeth before joining Kyle in the steamy shower, the glass wall and door already fogging up.
The multiple showerheads and wide space meant they had a lot of elbow room they ignored in favor of washing each other up.
Not being in a rush or showering in the communal showers on base was a nice change.
They took their time cleaning up before getting out and drying off.
They dressed for a warm winter day, with Jamie opting for dark jeans and a button-down shirt beneath a gray blazer, while Kyle went with slim black jeans with holes in the knees and a long-sleeved shirt under an old Army hoodie that had seen better days.
“Drive or walk?” Jamie asked as they left the condo for the private elevator outside in the foyer.
“Walk. I’m too hungry to deal with traffic.”
Jamie figured he knew where Kyle wanted to go.
One of their favorite breakfast spots when they had the time to spare was only a few blocks away.
The walk there on a sunny Monday morning was nice.
Kyle kept his hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie, their conversation light and easy.
Jamie enjoyed the sound of Kyle’s laughter when he found something funny, and Jamie couldn’t stop his own smile from forming.
Being with Kyle outside of work always grounded him in a way that was becoming more and more obvious with every week that passed.
At this point, he honestly couldn’t imagine his life without the other man and didn’t want to.
The French-inspired café that was their destination was located on the ground-floor level of a residential skyscraper and had an outdoor seating area stretching into a pedestrian plaza.
The weather was warm enough that people were being seated outside, but Jamie and Kyle preferred a wall at their back and a clear line of sight of the exit.
Since it was Monday, and most people were already at work at 0900, they didn’t have to wait long for a table.
A hostess eventually led them to a table, and Jamie let Kyle take the seat facing the door without a fight.
The unease Jamie usually felt with his back to a room full of people was eased by knowing Kyle had his six.
Kyle picked up the thin tablet where it sat on the table and scrolled through the menu, ordering their usual. They rarely picked something different at this place, and Kyle knew what Jamie liked. When he finished ordering, Kyle leaned back and quirked an eyebrow at Jamie.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Jamie admitted.
His answer stemmed as much from being with Kyle as the fact he was no longer in his family’s presence. Jamie would feel guilty about that if he didn’t know his father was more interested in using him rather than supporting him right now.
“Good.”
Kyle smiled a little crookedly, but the warmth in his green eyes was for Jamie alone.
He wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous—no one was these days except with enhancements or genetic luck—but he was definitely nice to look at, especially his full mouth.
Jamie had to kill the urge to reach across the table and take Kyle’s hand in his.
Some days, he hated needing to hide their relationship so nothing got back to their superior officers.
“Should probably get an order of groceries delivered if you’re staying here rather than in Manhattan for the next few days,” Kyle said.
“You can access my food account just like everyone else on the team. Feel free to pick out what you want.”
Since his condo was an unofficial hangout for the team on certain days, Jamie had long ago appointed himself the team’s food provider.
The private catering service his mother had set him up with years ago was used to filling large orders for him.
He didn’t care about the price of the food, so long as it was eaten.
Their breakfast eventually arrived, carried to their table by two servers.
A ham-and-leek tartine was set in front of Jamie while a sizzling bowl of shakshuka was placed before Kyle.
A basket of warm croissants and tiny French baguettes, along with small dishes of cloned fruit jam and butter, were set in the middle.
One of the servers poured them both two cups of synthcaf before departing.
While Jamie could afford the luxury of real coffee on the regular if he so chose, he’d been drinking synthcaf for his entire military career and saw no reason to stop.
They dove into their food with gusto, talking blandly about current news stories and Madison’s latest television show obsession.
Her pop culture consumption was a little on the terrifying side, and she inevitably managed to drag someone on the team into her binge-watching activities.
She and Kyle were currently watching some historical drama set at the turn of the last century in Canada about the melting Arctic ice and its impact on the First Nations of that country.
Apparently, it had won a couple of Emmys last year, despite it being ridiculously depressing.
Kyle was trying to bribe Jamie into watching it when his gaze shifted a little to the right. Jamie tensed up a little at the subtle changes he could read in Kyle’s expression.
“Problem?” Jamie asked in a low voice, careful to keep his tone calm and easy.
“Maybe. Your eight o’clock. Guy was seated after we were and won’t stop looking our way.”
Jamie knew better than to turn around and look. “Any tech in use?”
“Tablet is out on the table. He keeps picking it up and putting it back down. Odds of him taking a picture are high.”
Jamie grimaced, careful to keep his face averted from their watcher. Since they were off duty right now, accessing the team’s encrypted comms was inadvisable. Instead, Jamie called Katie through a private, similarly secured line. She answered almost immediately.
“How’s Manhattan treating you?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t know since I’m not there.”
“Well, shit. I owe Donovan a hundred dollars now. I told him you’d at least make it to the second day.”
“His lack of faith in me would be terrible if he wasn’t right. That’s not what I’m calling about. I need a favor.”
“Small or big?”
“Big.”
“Who am I hacking?”
Favor was the team’s code word for needing Katie’s skill with computers when it wasn’t authorized by the MDF. Most of the time, their requests fell within legal parameters, but not always. Katie was their communications specialist for a reason, and most of that stemmed from her hacking abilities.
“Kyle and I are at Café Eloise. We’re being watched.”
“Jamie’s eight o’clock. Male, late thirties, M-pattern baldness, and terrible taste in clothes,” Kyle quietly added.
“Since when are you an expert in clothes?” Katie wanted to know.
“Since Jamie.”
“Too much information.”
“You asked.”
“And I’m regretting it already.”
CCTV saturated all fifty states, especially in megacities.
Privacy outside the home was nonexistent these days.
That didn’t necessarily mean crime kept to a low threshold.
Any dedicated hacker could bypass the firewalls protecting the mazelike security systems authorities controlled.
Crime didn’t stop merely because people were being watched.
“I’m in, and I see him. You’re right, Kyle. Who thinks orange-and-blue paisley print is a good idea?” Katie said after a minute or two of silence. “Running facial recognition now.”
Jamie continued to eat his breakfast in an unhurried manner as Katie worked her magic from a different location in DC.
“Got it.” She paused, humming a bit. “You’re not going to like this, Jamie. Your admirer is Adam Dixon. He’s an investigative reporter for The New York Times.”
Jamie’s breakfast churned uncomfortably in his stomach. He was careful to keep his expression blandly neutral as he picked up a croissant and broke a piece off. “Thanks, Katie.”
“Want me to erase his tablet’s memory? Pretty sure he’s been taking pictures of you guys. If he’s hooked into the café’s system, it won’t take me very long.”
“You do that and he’ll know there’s a story to follow with me.”
“If you’re sure. I’ll see what I can pull up on my end about him and get back to you.”
She ended the connection, and Jamie looked up from slathering jam on his croissant to meet Kyle’s shuttered gaze. “Let’s finish up here and head out.”
Kyle nodded easily enough, even if Jamie could read the anger in the tightness of his jaw. “What if he follows us?”
“I’ll handle it.”
He was the only one who could, after all. Jamie’s family wasn’t anyone else’s problem except his own.
They finished breakfast quickly after that, and Jamie paid for their food using the RealIdent chip buried in the bioware embedded in his left hand and wrist. His account was debited, and they left the café without a backward glance.
They weren’t even halfway down the block on their way home when someone called out his name.
“Jamie! Jamie Callahan, right?”
Jamie didn’t stop. Beside him, Kyle slipped his hand beneath his hoodie in possible preparation for needing to draw his gun. Jamie shook his head minutely at Kyle and got an eye roll in return. Kyle dropped his hand back down to his side, so Jamie considered it a win.
The reporter caught up to them, slim tablet in hand, its voice recorder app running on the screen. He kept it angled in Jamie’s direction. “Got a minute to talk about your father’s decision to run for the presidency?”
“No comment,” Jamie replied blandly, looking straight ahead as he quickened his stride.
“You know, you’re a hard man to track down. Your father’s been telling the media you’re deployed, yet here you are.”
Jamie didn’t say anything, and thankfully, Kyle followed his lead, though the scowl on the sniper’s face was a sure sign Kyle was thinking unpleasant thoughts about the reporter.
Jamie felt the same way, even if he didn’t show it.
Jamie knew how this game was played, had known how to play it since his parents first paraded him before the cameras as a very young child.
You did not engage the press unless it was on your own terms.
Getting sandbagged in the street wasn’t on Jamie’s terms, so Adam Dixon wasn’t getting jack shit from him.
Adam kept up with them all the way back to their residential skyscraper, trying to get Jamie to talk, but he’d said the only thing he was going to say outside the restaurant.
Nothing more would be forthcoming. Adam could try to goad a quote out of Jamie all he liked; he wasn’t getting anything but silence.
They were meters away from the entrance to the building when Kyle broke away to access the biolock and get them inside.
Jamie half hoped the reporter would try to follow them into the building—Jamie would be within his rights to throw the guy out on his ass if he did—but apparently, Adam understood the law when it came to trespassing.
“Fantastic conversation,” Adam said with an oily smile. He rapidly took a couple of photos of them as the clear plas-glass doors closed nearly on his toes. “We’ll have to do it again someday.”
“Can I shoot him?” Kyle asked as he waved off the security guard manning the front desk in the lobby.
“No,” Jamie retorted as they headed for their floor’s private, dedicated elevator and stepped inside. “Do you know how much paperwork that would entail, not to mention the headache it would give me? We have two more days of libo left, and I have no plans to be doing paperwork.”
“I hope those plans involve doing me.”
“They won’t if you shoot the reporter.”
“I was joking.” Jamie gave him a long, long look as the elevator ascended at a fast rate. Kyle rolled his eyes. “Okay. I was mostly joking.”
“Sure you were.”
“If it’s a choice between testing out my new sniper rifle and getting fucked by you, we both know what I’m going to choose.”
Jamie arched an eyebrow. “Your rifle?”
“How is it you became a captain with such shitty decision-making skills?”
“Excellent NCOs.”
Kyle burst out laughing as the elevator slowed to a halt and opened up onto the penthouse level. He grabbed Jamie by the hand and hauled him out of the elevator, a wicked smile on his face. “Good answer.”