Chapter Eight #2
The front door opened and Cassidy came back inside just as I’d brought the coffee over to the table.
I passed it around as Cass retook his seat.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “That was the detective who is handling the homicide Marigold Bishop apparently witnessed.” He looked at Mike.
“He cleared up a few things and promised to work with us as we try to solve the Eli Goldfarb case.”
“Who the hell is Eli Goldfarb?” I asked, tired of their questions. My gut told me Wes had nothing to do with this bullshit.
“All we can tell you is that Eli Goldfarb is a case Mike and I are working on,” Cassidy said. “It relates to the man who was murdered—Abraham Feldman—because he’s the victim’s son-in-law.”
I stared at them and then looked back at Wes’ blank expression. It was easy to tell that neither name meant anything to him. Cassidy who was watching Wes, obviously saw the same thing.
“Neither name rings a bell, Mr. Chaudry?”
Wes immediately shook his head. “No. I told you, I don’t know those names and I never met them.”
“You’re sure?” Mike asked. He tapped the sketch. “This man looks like you.”
“I know,” Wes said, shaking his head. “But a lot of people look like me. It doesn’t mean I killed anyone, Detectives.”
They asked the bog-standard questions about Wes’ whereabouts at the time of the murder but with no real reference points like work, or friends he might have seen, he couldn’t answer them.
They sat back in their chairs, studying him for a second.
Cassidy leaned forward and picked up the sketch, refolding it and sliding it back into his pocket, then turned to Mike.
“I guess we don’t have any more questions at this time, right, partner?
” When Mike nodded, Cass looked back at us and offered a sincere smile.
“We’re sorry to have inconvenienced both of you. ”
When he and Mike stood, so did Wes and I. Cassidy held out a hand to Wes. “Sorry to have troubled you, Mr. Chaudry. By the way, I don’t have an address to reach you in case we have follow up questions.”
“Wes will be stayin’ with me, Cassidy. If ya need to talk to him again, this is where he’ll be.”
Cassidy stared for a few seconds before nodding slowly. “Good enough, then. See you later.” He looked at Wes. “If we have more questions we’ll call you.”
“Of course,” Wes said. “Good night, Detectives.”
“Good night.”
I walked them to the front door. “Call me if ya want to talk to Wes again, Cassidy. I’ll make sure he has a lawyer present.” I wanted them to know if they were going to accuse Wes of murder based solely on a four-year-old’s memory, I’d be making sure my friend had counsel present.
Surprisingly, Cassidy and Mike both smiled. “I’m glad, Patsy,” Mike said. “It’s good that you want to be a loyal friend.”
I smiled back, glad the lawyer remark didn’t go down the wrong way. “Thanks, guys,” I said, sincerely. “Night.”
“Good night, Patsy,” Cassidy said.
I watched them walk away before shutting the door.
Wes was in the kitchen, both hands braced on the kitchen bench, head hung low. He lifted his head and looked at me for several long seconds before straightening up. His eyes were wet with unshed tears.
“I swear I never killed anyone, Patsy.”
I stepped closer, opened my arms and wrapped him up in them. His arms immediately pulled me in as he laid his head on mine. The tickle of his soft beard on my ear sent heat rolling over and through me. “I know ya didn’t, Wes,” I whispered against the side of his head.
His arms tightened as he pulled me closer. The scent of my bodywash on his large, warm body made my own react in ways it probably shouldn’t. The way he dwarfed me was probably comical.
“How can you be so sure of me, Patsy?” He loosened his hold but didn’t drop his arms as he leaned back to look down into my face. The longing in his eyes took me by surprise.
“I believe in ya.” When he slid his hand around my neck, I swayed, feeling suddenly weak at the knees.
“I can’t believe it. You hardly know me.”
“Maybe not, but I know people, mate, and I trust my instincts.”
A frown flitted across his features for a second before the corners of his mouth turned up. “I’m beginning to hate that word.”
I looked at him, puzzled for just a second before it sank in. “Mate?” He nodded. “It just means friend.”
He stared down at me, and I didn’t miss the flare of heat in his eyes. “I know what it means.” His gaze dropped to my lips. “But that’s not the way I feel about you.”
I swallowed, feeling slightly off balance because it’s not the way I felt about him either.
Other people would have seen my belief in his honesty as foolish, but I’d spent years going to the likes of AA meetings where honesty was critical but also talking to counselors after Afghanistan.
But bugger all that. I could feel the electricity buzzing between us and I couldn’t remember when I’d been attracted to another man as much.
“Me either,” I whispered a second before he ducked his head and took my lips in a warm kiss.
I leaned against him, relishing the heat radiating from his large body as I parted my lips at his urging.
Wes’ tongue tasted of rich, sweet coffee, but it was the soft, growly sounds coming from the back of his throat that made my knees weak.
He tightened our hug, grabbing my arse with one hand and practically lifting me off the floor as he drew me up flush with his groin where an enormous erection tented his jeans.
I groaned, rocking my hard cock against his, loving the way we seemed to fit together so perfectly.
I kissed Wes passionately, eating at his mouth as he echoed the strokes of his tongue like for like.
He slipped his hands up under the hem of my shirt to knead the muscles in my back before sliding them back down to my arse again.
I wanted him more than any man I’d ever wanted and just as the thought occurred to me, so did another one.
For some godforsaken reason, I wanted to slow things down which had never been my M.O.
with guys before. Gay bar hookups never got a midnight breakfast and some conversation before I brought them home for a hot fuck.
With Wes, I wanted more. I wanted to savor him, have a wee kiss and a cuddle, enjoy our connection before falling into bed, regardless of how easy it would be, judging by how worked up we both were.
I let go of him and slid my hands between us, gently pushing at his wide chest. He instantly broke the kiss and leaned back.
The curiosity lighting his smoldering gaze, spoke volumes as he searched my eyes.
He immediately dropped his arms and took a step back.
The urge to chase him and press him against the kitchen bench was nearly overwhelming.
“Patsy…I’m sorry…I—”
I pressed two fingers against his full lips as I shook my head.
“Don’t finish that thought, Wes,” I said, panting and shivering, feeling horny as hell.
“I want ya. Make no mistake about that.” I grabbed my dick, drawing his gaze to it as I squeezed it.
When he glanced back up to meet my eyes, I read the questions in them.
I shrugged. “It’s just that…I know how hard ya worked today.
” I reached out and gently ran a hand over his soft T-shirt.
“And if this night ends the way I want it to, we’re both goin’ to need our strength. ”
His eyes twinkled, but it was the sound of his low laugh that sent electricity to my balls. “Okay, Patsy, what’s your plan then?”
I stepped back, turning to our tea cooling on the marble. “How about we finish the amazin’ meal and then…we’ll see how things go from there?”
Wes nodded slowly. “Okay.”
I smiled before standing on tiptoes and pecking his lips.